Category Archives: rantings

2016 Race to the White House

Early campaign polling decided today that Donald Trump will be our next president, a full year and a half before we had to go to elections. I guess the only question is if Trump-care will cover the cost of the therapy we will need after 5.5 years of conspiracy theories and smear campaigns, which begins tomorrow with coverage of the 2016 presidential race. (But as is my way, I have begun coverage even more prematurely than other networks because I know America, and if there’s one thing we never get sick of, it’s pointless bickering and hearing me talk and elections) Early polling suggests Al Gore’s spirit medium leading for the libs and a life size printout of the Monopoly Man for the GOP.

Rush Limbaugh dropped a bomb on his listeners when he formally endorsed the medium after discovering he was actually richer and whiter than his cartoon counterpart, but only convinced 18% of his audience to abandon their pre-fabricated political opinions if favor of his new insights because 82% of them fell asleep while waiting for their nurses to bring them more butterscotch hard candies and a fresh oxygen tank. Rachel Maddow on the other hand set a new world record for witty and poignant comments in a five minute news segment which probably would have raised America’s collective consciousness and beckoned us into a glorious new era of utopian values and world peace, but unfortunately only John Stewart’s interns saw any of it because she works at the bottomless pit of boredom more commonly known as MSNBC.

Among the many hot topics for this campaign is the dreary economy. With headlines telling the sad tale of the last home in America being foreclosed on, and unemployment up this month to 732%, many folks on main street are wondering just where to look for help with their financial woes. The Monopoly Man’s plan for rekindling the sweet flame of American excess and wealth lies in a savvy combination of burning poor people to power new military bases and overseeing nigh-omnipotent corporations with what he has titled, “the honor system”. In a strange twist of irony the progressive candidate countered the Monopoly Man with his new plan to print worthless money but make it more colorful so nobody would realize he wants to spend six times the net profits of Earth on additional welfare benefits which would reward the uneducated for having as many children as possible, and set aside significant funding for a massive ad campaign pleading with voters to both forget how math works and ignore the fact that nobody gives a crap about the underlying social problems that cause multiple-generation poverty cycles in the first place.

Meanwhile in San Francisco, the spirit medium had to drop out of the race completely to spend his days tazering joggers and bikers who carelessly stomp around the trails of his local park where he was pretty sure he saw an endangered lizard last week. Sources close to him suspect a nervous breakdown due to his realization that wind energy might be causing global air stagnation due to the exploitation of free range wind by windmills. Many American socialists hope the spirit medium will be replaced in the race by Anderson Cooper’s Twitter account, but it only leads by three points, followed closely by the general inability of the left to congeal into an effective political unit or agree on anything ever. Conservatives have taken all of this as a sign that American Jesus is on their side in this election, and are super excited that he will obviously be backing their holy war against the ignorant and violent Muslim jihadists.

This has been a Broken News Update, for MSFOX, this is Josh wishing you all good luck and good grief with the coming election.

The source of human morality: an email to my father.

Paul Wilson 23 December at 20:38
In your blog about the WBC protest you wrote;
“I personally don’t need a master to tell me what is right and wrong, and I think when people let go of their fear and look inside, they will realize that none of them need servility either. We can make the world better, but we aren’t going to get any help from an outside source, it’s up to us as human beings to fix it ourselves.”  Question: If you have no standard for your morality, then how do you define what is right and what is wrong?
What follows is my answer to my father, unedited. I had planned on looking into this further to form the best possible response to this question, but seeing as my blog is more a tool for me to articulate my thoughts in an orderly fashion, mostly for my own benefit, rather than an ultimate argument for my ideas, I think it is appropriate to address some of these issues as they present themselves. So here, only minutes after I sent the message, is my response at this time on the issue of human morality. All forms of support and criticism are welcomed and encouraged. Your scrutiny makes my view better when I accept it.

It’s interesting that you would ask me this particular question. It’s one that I’ve run into many times, especially lately. Actually I’m preparing to address it shortly as part of my next blog which is going to be a response to a catholic man with some rather extremist views on atheism. It was a question I had when I was first fully realizing my atheism, and I think it is a legitimate question, although it is somewhat insulting to atheists when you examine it.


The answers that I found when I looked into it are what pushed me to choose secular humanism as a moral platform for my life. You could say that in atheism (although certainly not with all atheists, because atheism is much like the left-wing in that it is more of a loose commonality of ideas held by widely different people, skepticism and the scientific method are the most widely accepted ideas comparable to your theology, and secular humanism is the most widely accepted idea comparable to your biblical morality.

In order to answer your question I first have to critique it. You ask how I define what is right and wrong if I have no standard for morality. This is what can be frustrating for atheists. The connection between religion and morality has been enforced, by the religious, for so long that they are culturally synonymous. But I believe that religion has very little positive impact on morality, and that morality is demonstrably a separate entity from religion. And the idea that people who don’t believe in a god are incapable of understanding morality is an understandable but annoying constant slap in the face for us heathens. When religion states that it is not only morally superior, but has a total monopoly on morality, I kind of roll my eyes and try not to be the arrogant atheist dick that constantly spouts off endless examples of immoral behavior being rewarded by or commanded by god in the bible. So it’s an easy question to answer, but it’s a difficult question to answer without coming off like a jerk, because in order to answer it I have to eventually point out why I believe that all religions are fundamentally unhealthy for not just human progress, but human wellbeing.

I think morality stems from two different things. First off it is a function of survival useful for most life and has been widely propagated among the species on earth through evolution. Second, it is one aspect of our higher cognitive function that gives us an advantage over less intelligent forms of life, and at the same time gives us a greater degree of responsibility for how we conduct ourselves given the ability to understand complicated and intangible concepts that affect the quality of life of our own species, as well as that of all other species on earth.

My first point is that morality is a survival tactic we received from evolution. We have the ability to empathize with other memberz of mankind, and their survival becomes a part of our survival. The most basic example of this in nature would be the tendency for almost all life to either sacrifice its own safety or its own food source for its offspring. Animals especially (as opposed to plants, fungus, or microscopic life) tend to be aggressively defensive of their young, putting themselves in much more dangerous situation than they would normally when a threat is imminent for their children. I think this is the root for our connection, and our behavior. At some deep subconscious level we instinctively understand that our survival is linked to every other member of our species. Humans are the most socially linked species on the planet, as far as I know, and so our social survival instinct would rationally be stronger than in other creatures. This survival link can be show even better when you examine other social or hive type creatures. Most species of cats and dogs work together in groups, and the group will work together for food and safety, and give up a portion of their own supplies to help feed other members of the group, say the sick and injured, or the young who can’t hunt for themselves. Hive creatures like ants or bees split the work up, so each member has its own purpose, but they all collectively reap the benefits. And so their own survival depends on the survival of their hive members, causing them to toil for the greater good and to sacrifice to protect the greater good.

And so for the most basic and fundamental aspects of morality, religion is totally unnecessary, since the ideas of not killing, stealing, or inflicting harm on members of one’s own social group, to the point of self-sacrifice for the well-being of others, are demonstrated by creatures far inferior to us. These attributes help us survive off of each other in a sort of symbiotic relationship, and are so simple and obvious to us that they don’t really need to be carved on stone tablets to be understood by all societies.

My second point was that we humans have a unique mental ability. We are by far the smartest creature in existence, at least as far as we know, and I would have to imagine that any other creature as smart as us would be capable of figuring out a way to communicate their intelligence. Anyway, that’s an irrelevant tangent, or at least a totally different debate about the possibility of higher beings. Our higher brain function allows us to grasp intangible concepts in a way that we don’t believe other life here can do. This is what gives us morally grey areas and allows us the ability to deal with them; the issues that can both harm and help life, such as how to define human rights, or how much speech should be allowed for whom, and what aspects of society should be mandated for the benefit of all, and which should be left to the individual.

This is where my idea (and I use the term “my” loosely, since most of the ideas I’m presenting here aren’t really my own, and the few that are have undoubtedly been argued better by someone else already) that religion is actually a hindrance to morality comes into play. If you assert that morality comes from your god and not from mankind and the laws that govern nature, then you will have a hard time excusing the teachings of the bible. And this is actually an issue that has bugged me from an early age, long, long before I rebelled and then eventually dismissed the idea of believing in a god. The bible has in it, especially in the old testament, but there are plenty of good examples of evil in the new as well, a plethora of commands to do things that we today consider extremely reprehensible. Abraham was made the father of all believers for his willingness to murder his own child when he heard a voice commanding him to. No normal Christian today would defend a parent who murdered their child and said God told them to do it. It’s right there in the ten commandments, thou shalt not murder. And yet Abraham inspired three completely different religions, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Not only did god reward Abraham for his willingness to murder his son, he also endorses and supports outright genocide and imperialistic warfare as a norm, in multiple situations. Believers in other faiths are routinely wiped off the face of the planet, and even for followers of gods teachings, fairly normal “wrongs” are responded to with outright bigotry and violence. For instance, a woman who was raped is commanded to either be stoned to death or to marry her rapist, as long as she was raped outside the city, if she were raped inside the city then she just has to die. The term sodomy even comes from the story of God wiping out an entire city of homosexuals, who he calls an abomination, a term poorly translated that breeds bigotry, but one supported by a story of merciless hatred. (I really don’t feel like looking up these verses, but I assure you they are in there, as I predict you will already know, and if you don’t think so I will gladly take the time to look up verses to prove my point)

And so I contend that most of what we consider to be moral, at least the moral parts I agree with, have stemmed from a secular viewpoint rather than a religious one. One common argument made by believers is that many aspects of moral improvement have been championed by religious people, and inspired by religious text. I do not argue that religious people have been instrumental in the positive changes we have made in society, especially in the last couple of hundred years, or that your bible may have inspired them to be better people. There are many passages in the bible that agree with secular humanism. Do unto others … Let him without sin cast the first stone … judgement is mine sayeth the lord; they all rehash the golden rule. Actually the first one is the golden rule now that I think about it, and I am not sure if that is in the bible or not. But it’s also the basis for all morality, which I already argued, and for example the first rule of Wiccan is, “Do what you will, so long as it harms no one.” My issue is that the rest of the bible isn’t so humanist. A famous example of morality being forwarded by a religious icon would be the civil rights movement and MLK Jr. Sure his faith was part of his passive campaign for equality, but the bible not only condones slavery, but sets out elaborate rules for how it should be done. Nowadays I doubt you can find many Christians who would admit slavery is a good idea, worthy of public support, but it’s still right there in your holy text. Likewise, few Christians would openly support a war with another religion without an excuse for it besides the opposing side being of a different faith. But again, plenty of examples of your god waging such jihads. And I don’t think I need to point out the obvious paradox of chauvinism versus female empowerment in your bible, since you and Mom have had, to my knowledge, some butting of heads with your church leaders in the past over what is and is not allowed for women by your bible.

So if we look at these things like civil rights, women’s equality, and the push for equal treatment of everyone, and you can point out examples of religious people, and the church in general, adjusting your morality to contradict your own divine scripture, then where have these ideas of right and wrong come from? I think that they are not natural to us. The simple forms of morality key to survival are natural to us, and this is what you have titled a conscience. But the grey areas of morality that we have worked out as a species are inarguably important, and the solutions to these problems, although sometimes accepted by the religious community, fly in the face of religious literature and teachings. So the question then becomes, where do we get and how do we define our system of morality. My answer, which is secular humanism, is that we should use our most successful techniques, those being skepticism, rational thought and reason, and the scientific method to constantly test our morality and determine where morality is working for our species and where it is hindering our progress. As we have seen with all areas of life with which we have applied the scientific process, I think morality will be best determined for our species when we put our greatest attribute in charge, that being our ability to think and use reason.

Unfortunately for your side of the argument, religion by its nature denies both reason and the scientific process. Any religion requires its believers to use faith in their lives, and faith by its very nature is the suspension of rational thought to accept an extraordinary claim without conclusive evidence, and often without using any logic at all. And when religion accepts faith, and claims that it’s scripture is the inspired word of god, it denies any application of the scientific method. Once you claim god said something, you aren’t allowed to challenge it until secular society comes along and forces you to adapt, and adaptation is the one evolutionary factor that is even stronger than our intelligence. By contrast, any theory or point of view on morality put forth by a secular humanist is open for rebuttal and debate by every other person on earth, and through this process of intellectual self inspection as a species, we can choose the strongest and most beneficial ideas for our future. I think any idea worth following should withstand scrutiny by the smartest minds available, and religion neither teaches this concept, nor demonstrates it, as evident by the extreme majority of scientists who are atheist.

One quote I hear a lot from the believers is that “atheists don’t believe in nothing, they believe in anything.” This is exactly why we are offended and annoyed. The entire premise that we are incapable of, or have never considered morality is ridiculous. Most atheists find the ideas of religion and morality almost all-encompassingly important, and have spent years or possibly all their life learning and thinking about it. Study after study shows that atheists are on average, more educated on matters of religion and philosophy than are the people who profess to believe in ancient scrolls. So it’s a valid question to ask where we nonbelievers get our morality, but in asking it you shine a light on the overwhelming cultural bias towards freethinkers and skeptics and atheists, and at the same time highlight your own ignorance of alternative beliefs while requiring us to have a deep knowledge of your beliefs. I’m not offended by you asking me this Dad. It was one of the first questions I went after when I realized there was no god, and so I can empathize with never having considered any other option. In fact I am glad that I get to answer it for you instead of some other atheist who may be less friendly with their world views. I hope this gives you some food for thought as far as moral alternatives, and if you have any questions for me, and I hope you do, hit me up. Remember, no idea worth following should be above scrutiny, even mine and especially mine.

Later gator,
Josh.


America In Peril: College Students Dangerously Funny

In what can only be described as the most offensive display of racism since everyone realized Kramer wasn’t actually funny, some students from the University of California at San Diego have whipped their collective pee-organs out and defiled the sanctity of black history month. According to a report by news giant MomLogic.com, students threw a, “ghetto-themed party called the Compton Cookout” where, “guys were encouraged to wear chains and high top tennis shoes and girls were encouraged to be ghetto-chicks with gold teeth and wear cheap clothes”. Even more shockingly, reports would indicate that most, if not all of these students were not black people.

The party was unsanctioned by the school, and was held off campus, but may have been attended by members of at least three fraternities. I find it utterly disturbing that members of the respected social class consisting of college fraternity members could behave in such a rude or thoughtless manner, as all of my previous experiences with frat boys have reflected the utmost moral caliber.

The Vice Chancellor is heading up an investigation into the serious misconduct carried out within the law and outside of her jurisdiction with a fervor I can only describe as inspiring. The V.C. was quoted as saying, “Our obvious initial concern was abated when we discovered that the party consisted of white students merely pretending to be poor black people. However, after numerous complaints from the you-know-whos and a bunch of mommies, we’ve officially changed our stance to that of disbelief and repulsion. We fully understand that [Black History Month] is an institution of the utmost importance and respect, and not at all an empty gesture meant to shut people up.”

I for one agree with the Vice Chancellor, it is so nice to get a break from those obnoxious disaster relief and ASCPA commercials for a month, and focus on these historically heroic figures that everyone certainly wasn’t already familiar with by the fifth grade. What an amazing idea, to dedicate a month to occasional television blurbs. I enjoy it almost as much as when I have to go to work on Martin Luther King Jr. day every year.

In fact I am so convinced this is a great idea I think we should step up as a country and take it a step farther. I’ve compiled a few more racist offenders who need to be investigated and tried, or at the least publicly humiliated for their racially charged stereotype crimes.

Lil John, I mean Jon

What a dickhead. This racist mother fucker is brimming so full of stereotypes he’s one pointy white hat away from completing his track suit of hate. He misspells his name, his grammar is horrible, he’s toting more gold accessories than Mr. T’s jeweler, and what the fuck is that in his mouth? Why would he mock black people like this? Frankly, I’m offended.

Are you kidding me? What kind of clansmen crapfest is this? That white guy who looks like Ving Rhames is clearly saying all black people carry guns. And why is there a share cropper at the bottom left? Just because watermelons are delicious and everyone loves eating them doesn’t mean it’s ok to say black people love eating watermelons. Go burn a cross you douchebags. As if Dolemite would appear in a movie making fun of his own peoples stereotypes, get real.

Listen actual black people from Compton, and one white guy with a 40 oz.: just because you are successful, black people who actually are from Compton doesn’t mean you get to wear gold chains, and high tops, or get gold teeth, or wear cheap clothing. That’s racist. Most especially during a month that celebrates outstanding black people who have contributed to black culture and history. Outstanding people like Ice Cube, and Easy E. Or people like Dr. Dre and the many successful black people he’s discovered during his reign as media mogul, such as Snoop Doggy Dog, or Eminem. If you keep that kind of behavior up, not only will you get kicked out of the college you never attend, but you’ll never amount to anything like the world famous entertainers you are today.

America, today is the day we need to come together and stand united. Some people may say that the only reason parties like this are considered offensive, is because the offendees have little to no sense of humor or reality. This is simply not the case. If we can’t force everyone in our country to stop propagating racial stereotypes then you know what? We’re all racist, and I for one want to live in a colorblind society, where everything is black and white. Good night and good luck.

More Like the Blowlympics

So my woman decided to write a post about how hating the Olympics doesn’t mean you aren’t patriotic, and since I haven’t felt very inspired to write anything for a few years or so, I figured I’d like to get in on that. Despite the fact that Torontonians apparently feel not supporting the Olympics is unpatriotic, I don’t know anyone around here who likes them. True, most of my friends are alcoholics, criminals, and white trash, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t a legitimate representation of everyone in America. Let’s quickly review the basics shall we?

1) The Olympics are boring. Watching them is like watching reruns of CSPAN. I would rather do chores around the house wearing a suit of fiberglass insulation than watch the Olympics. I would rather listen to Rosanne and Fran Drescher argue about yesterday’s episode of the View than watch the Olympics.

2) Almost all Olympic sports, challenging as they may be, are not spectator sports. Everyone knows figure skating sucks. Ski jumping may be scary, but if you see one jump you’ve pretty much got the idea. If you’re a dick like me and you enjoy people wrecking badly, it almost never happens. (Too soon for a luger pun?) Even the relatively exciting sports of BMX or Karate are still way lamer than watching a non-Olympic version like the X-Games or the UFC.

3) What the hell is bandy? I realize I live in a warm climate and ice sports aren’t popular, but seriously? The same thing goes for basque pelota, korfball, and boules. I may be an ignorant American, but I would argue that sports shouldn’t even be considered for a world tournament unless they are popular in more than two countries. What’s next, life saving? Oh wait, that’s an Olympic sport too. Being a lifeguard is NOT a sport, I don’t care how many boobs were on Bay Watch.

So now that I have irrefutably proven that the Olympics generally blow, let’s move on to how that applies to me being patriotic. Let me first start by explaining that I’m not patriotic in the traditional sense of actually being loyal to my country. Here are just a few things I hate about America: everyone who runs it, guidos, Fox News, people who insist America is the best country in the world without knowing anything about the world, the fact that Top Gear is filmed somewhere else, and public service announcements. (Seriously, shut up Hollywood)

However, this doesn’t mean there aren’t a ton of great things that have come out of America that I enjoy taking credit for when talking to foreigners. So if you think I’m unpatriotic, well fuck you. Here’s a list of amazing shit I or someone related to me probably were responsible for.

Look at this guy!

Grizzly Adams: He tamed fucking bears. I can only assume he settled for grizzly bears in the absence of wild dragons. Also he owned one of the coolest coat-beard combos in the history of mankind.

Rock and Roll: While the debate over who technically invented rock and roll is one that will never be agreed upon, (see Beatles vs Elvis if you’re an idiot) the fact remains that America has contributed a lot to Rock and Roll over the years. And while lots of my favorite bands are not home grown, a whole lot of them are. Skynyrd, Aerosmith, Van Halen, Metallica, Motley Crue, Guns N’ Roses, Disturbed, Green Day, Sublime, 311, Rage Against the Machine; the list goes on and on but I’m tired of copying crap from Wikipedia. The point is that without downplaying the contribution of the rest of the world, we’ve done some face melting rocking over the years.

The Ultimate Fighting Championship: I don’t give a flying crap where martial arts come from, the UFC is a great American institution. I was always bored with sports (like the Olympics) and never enjoyed playing or watching any until I experienced mixed martial arts in an octagon fence/cage. If you haven’t seen it and have a penis, please fix one or the other. That crap is the shit. Who doesn’t like insane men willingly (or unwillingly) jumping in a cage and beating the life blood out of each other? Pussies, that’s who, and pussies stink.

Suck it world.

Man on the Moon: Face it, it was a race, to the moon, and we won. I don’t care if the USSR cloned a dinosaur/minotaur beast and puts a damn army of them on the moon, we still got a man there first, and that’s damn cool. Next race, put a man on the sun. If any country can beat us there Niel Armstrong will look like Pauly Shore if he hadn’t made Biodome. (You know that shit was funny, don’t even lie. Unless you never smoked weed, and then it probably wasn’t funny, but that’s your own fault not his)

Porn: After a lengthy break from blogging I’m back to report the ol’ USA produces more porn than any other country on earth. (I didn’t happen across any provable facts during my break, so sue me) If Faith up there can’t give you a few great reasons why porn is awesome, then I sure as hell can’t explain it in a way you will understand. If that is the case think of it like physics, and then just understand I’m pretty much Einstein when it comes to this topic. (That’s why I’m on the internet instead of out there in real life somewhere.)

Anheuser-Bush: The number one seller of beer on the planet. Sure there are a lot of other companies and countries that make much better beer, but that doesn’t change a thing. They actually are the king of beers. For all you beer snobs out there, there’s a reason such watery swill is dominating the planet. Poor people like drinking too, and for the price they actually deliver a good quality beverage. Also a little known fact about Budweiser for all you Heineken fans out there: if you accidentally leave a Budweiser under your car seat in the middle of the dog days of summer for three days and it doesn’t explode from the heat, it tastes exactly like Heineken. It’s probably not safe to drink, but I did once and it was delicious once I got it chilled down.

As you can see America has a lot of great things I enjoy, unfortunately none of them are on the Olympics. While it is true that one great thing about our country is that everyone except the Tea Party people usually make room for other folks to enjoy things they don’t support, the fact remains that the Olympic Games are exactly like the state of the union address, no matter how important it’s supposed to be, it’s still not as good as the regularly scheduled programming. That’s what highlight reels are for.

Call me Bob

I’m not an easily bummed out guy. While there have certainly been a few roller coaster moments in my alcoholic life experience when it comes to self image, for the most part I feel fairly confident with who and what I am. I’m certainly not dreaming about inventing a time machine so I can jump back and forth through the time continuum making love to myself (don’t think I haven’t thought about it though) but I don’t normally get too down on my appearances either.

I have bad skin, and I’ve made my peace with that. I have an average dick, and you know what, average is good enough for me. I brandish that mediocre dick like I’m Zorro, and if you don’t believe me ask you mom. (Ooooooh, lame burn!) I completely gave up on styling my hair in any sort of way and just cut it short so it dries and styles itself with absolutely zero effort on my part. I never match my socks, I get dressed in the dark, and almost all of my pants have paint all over them. Zoolander I am not.

But the other day I had one of those moments where you see something new about yourself and it freaks you the fuck out. I was changing clothes at work, and I just happened to glance at the mirror as I was bending over to drop trough, and I saw the sight. It stopped me in my tracks and I had to go back for a second look. The second look was certainly no more encouraging than the first glance, in fact it was even worse than I had originally surmised. I’m sorry to say ladies and gentlemen, I have moobs.

I have big, sagging, gross ass man boobs, and I am not the least bit happy about it. When the fuck did my once tight pecks turn into moobs? More importantly, how the fuck am I going to turn them back into pecks before the middle of June when my woman comes down to visit and I have to be seen neked a lot. (that is to say, I have to be seen neked a lot by a woman, seeing as I weekly endure correctional officers conducting strip searches on my person) I am ok with having a gut, I am ok with the bad skin, and the farmers tan, and the stretch marks on my cracker ass. But moobs cross the fucking line.

So now I’m on a working mans diet, and am trying real hard to do push ups and maybe even lift a weight or two so I won’t have tits the next time I have sex. A working man’s diet consists of changing nothing about my diet except I put one less spoon full of sugar in every mug of coffee, I stop eating candy, and I skip breakfast. Also I will try working harder while I am actually getting paid, that way I not only get in better shape and get a free gym, but I also impress my boss for the non existent raise my company would have given me if they had not frozen all raises indefinitely because of our cock gobbling economy. (legalize pot Obama, you know you want to make sure the first black president not only spends more money than any president ever, but also pays for it with weed)

For now I am estimating myself at a solid B cup. Wish me and my tits luck.

PS – I have named them Brutus and Hagar, (left and right respectively) please address them as such in your prayers.

Much Adieu About Nothing

I feel drained. Not in that fun masturbatory way either. I feel as if somehow I’m stuck in some boring rut and have lost all ability to be creative or offer any kind of insight into the world. For weeks I’ve been thinking about a blog post, and for weeks, I’ve come up with jack shit. What’s new in my life? Nothing, and nobody really enjoys update posts about people they don’t know anyway. What’s new with work? Not shit, we’re simultaneously slow and fast, and I still hate that cocksucker from New Jersey. Nothing to write about. The summer is here, but so what, that’s boring. Pollen season came and went, but writing about tree sperm is boring.

Blah

And on and on it goes, repeating in my head like some sick whirlpool of boredom. I feel like the narrator from Fight Club, or possibly Wanted. I have felt this way in almost every aspect of my life, not just this blog either. Do I want to make a chicken and egg bagel, toasted with garlic, cheddar, and bacon bits? Fuck it, I’ll just pour some cereal. In fact, fuck that, I’ll just skip a meal, I can always eat a mug of coffee tomorrow morning. Would I like to kill zombies on Wii? Nah, I’ll just sit it out and pet the dog. Should I go wild with some bondage and crazy machines, or keep it clean with some good old fashioned girl on girl fisting? Screw porn, I’ll just go to bed.

Can you see my predicament here? My dick never gets bored. NEVER! When I start feeling so complacent about every day life that my reproductive system gets bored, I could be in serious trouble. What next? My circulatory system? Could my asshole get tired and just stop taking craps one day? If I don’t do something quick I could wake up dead tomorrow, some mindless corpse wandering the planet, boring the living shit out of people like Ben Stein, or Frasier.

I’ve been in desperate need of some motivation defribulation. I need a fat rail of (metaphorical) coke to get my interest in life and my creativity back in the game drinking booze and sniffing while it plays spades. (or whatever you people do when you snort coke)

I tried watching movies to get me excited again. Trailer Park of Terror was basically awesome, as long as you like hookers, demolition derbies, electric guitar, and zombie gore, but there weren’t enough titties. Poor White Trash was funny as hell, and nailed the whole white trash atmosphere, but the characters were such terrible criminals that I was worried they would go to prison the entire movie long, and my vicarious paranoia for their safety from the pigs half way ruined the experience. Zombie Strippers was amazing, and had more tits than any non-pornographic movie I’ve ever seen, but I never really dug Jenna Jameson cause porn stars wear their make up in an annoying barbie-like fashion. (I like lots of make up, but not porn star make up) Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter was looking to be craptastic in the best kind of way, but the damn movie link crapped out on me fifteen minutes in. I haven’t been able to find One Eyed Monster, a comedy/horror flick about Ron Jeremy being struck by an alien comet, getting killed, and having his possessed cock jump off his body and run around killing everyone else in town. And believe it or not, despite having amazing titles, both Cheerleader Ninjas and Inbred Redneck Alien Abductions were terrible movies. How can you mess up a combination of cheerleaders and ninjas? That would almost take effort, the movie practically writes itself.

FUCK!

But then it happened. I was sitting at my computer, reading about other peoples crappy lives on Fmylife.com, and I happened to stumble across one of my old school web favorites.

DOCTOR McNINJA

DOCTOR McNINJA

There was a ton of new material for me to read, one page at a time, and I eagerly sucked it up, like he was spit and I was one of those weird tiny shop-vacs they stick in your mouth at the dentist. (side note: am I the only person who constantly plays with those things, opening and closing your mouth so it makes that weird sound like clearing a bong, and pulls your cheeks in?) I had forgotten how much I loved Dr. McNinja.

The story line basically goes that Dr. McNinja is an Irish-American ninja who lives in Maryland. His father is a ninja who’s only discerning feature is his mustache which through ninja tricks is able to grow directly through his mask. His brother is a wigger ninja, and his mother is the typical overbearing ninja matron, who tries to kill him every time he comes home to keep him on his feet. His sidekick, Gordito, is a young Mexican boy who grew a gigantic mustache when a social worker tried to take his fathers guns, after he died in a tragic trapeze accident where he was torn to pieces by a pack of coyotes, pumas, and wolves that were shot out of a canon. Gordito rides a raptor named Yoshi around shooting people, and watching Dr. McNinjas back. The Doc’s family is none too pleased that he somewhat deserted his ninja upbringing to become a doctor and save lives when he could be killing people full time, but never the less, he has a thriving practice assisted by his gorilla receptionist and butler.

After a few run in’s with Ronald McDonald’s evil franchise, and a cartel of drug dealers that were selling ninja drugs that gave everyday people ninja powers, and an ongoing war with the pirate race, the story arc pretty much settles into a kinder gentler McNinja love story. His love of killing everything. Benjamin Franklin’s clone gets tricked by Dracula into taking an eternal life serum, which backfires and accidentally awakens a plague of ninja zombies. (Ben Franklin II was buried in the same section of the cemetery as all the ninjas that the Doc had slain) So he has to track Count Dracula to his moon base, where he’s tricked into fighting Dracula’s robot double, in an effort to kill McNinja so he can sneak his way out of hell and teach Dracula about the secrets of the afterlife. But the Doc is sneakier than the Count, and after training for a few moments with Bruce Lee, he jumps from the moon back to Maryland, surfing robot Dracula, after his wigger ninja brother helps him reprogram the feet rockets installed in all robot doubles.

As the story line ends (at least for now) Dr. McNinja is back on earth working with to reverse Draculas spell which turned Ben Franklin II into one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse, and Gordito, whom the Doc has left to train with his family, had just helped them defeat a ghost wizard who shot flying sharks out of his wand.

I’m not sure my mind is capable of absorbing any more awesome than has already been presented at the mind-fuck buffet that is the Dr. McNinja webcomic, but I sure plan on staying tuned to see if it’s possible for anything to get any cooler than this already is.

Long story short, if you feel a little depressed and bored with life, you can slit your wrists, get baked on prescription meds, or read a webcomic about a ninja who rides rocket powered vampires from outer space to save Benjamin Franklin’s clone. Your choice.

I wanted this for my next tattoo for a long time until I found out it was from Dr. McNinja. Now I need it.

I wanted this for my next tattoo for a long time until I found out it was from Dr. McNinja. Now I need it.

I Have the Body of a Greek God

Well, to be fair, I would only really have the body of one of the lesser Greek gods. Maybe an alcoholic god, in poor physical shape, who smokes too much and makes poor diet and lifestyle choices.

So what happened was, I was sitting at work on Tuesday, chillin’ like normal, watching Domino during our lunch hour. (fucking brilliant movie in case you haven’t seen it. Get off your vag-lips and go rent that shit right now, you will thank me) I heated up some Jimmy Deans sausage biscuit thingy, and a Tombstone personal pizza, downed an energy drink, a can of Mountain Dew, and two tums, ate half a bag of chips, two oatmeal creme cookie sandwiches, a zebra cake, and a double pack of peanut butter wafer bars. Shortly after Keira Knightley tells Lucy Liu that she’ll be dreaming of her pussy when she goes to bed alone that night, I began to feel a little ill. Actually, I was fairly hung over already, so my general state of health started at a level normal people might call “sick”, but I was getting some red alert signals from my digestive track that shouted for attention over the background noise of my throbbing head and mild nausea.

I managed to make it to the good bathroom before my lunch made a hasty exit. I’ve hurled in the “bad bathroom” before, and let me tell you, there aren’t a whole lot of things less pleasant that sticking your bare hands in a sink full of vomit because the drain doesn’t really drain worth a fuck. The good bathroom on the other hand, you could ralph gravel in that sumbitch and it wouldn’t overflow.

So I watched my lunch disappear down the drain in roughly the order I had eaten it, except reversed. Yeah, that’s definitely pizza, and yup, there’s some sausage, and that would appear to be a fairly well mixed up witches brew of junk foods. But it was the last guest in my post lunch party that threw me for a loop. Blood. I couldn’t say for sure exactly what had happened the night before, but I could fairly certainly remember never eating any blood. And yet, there it was, gleaming up at me smugly from it’s crimson pool, as if taking some twisted pleasure in knowing it was completely screwing up my plans for the day.

Now for those of you who don’t know me, namely all of you, I hate doctors. It’s not that I dislike them as people, because they are usually very pleasant and intelligent as far as humans go, but I just hate having to go see them. Partly it’s cause I don’t like feeling like a pussy, and everyone knows real men never need medical attention. And partly it’s because I know that eventually, some doctor somewhere is going to walk into a room, force me to put on a “gown” and stick his finger up my ass, and with my luck I’ll get a boner and then I’ll be gay, and I’ll be damned if a little blood puke is going to turn me gay.

My coworkers on the other hand have no problem going to the doctor, and after throwing up some more, and beginning to get dizzy, they convinced me I should probably seek some kind of medical attention rather than finish out the work day. I was already dreading it. The waiting rooms. The long forms. The throngs of overweight, sickly, rapidly breeding minorities who while legally created equal are still a total pain in the ass when in public. Other peoples kids. Why was this happening to me? Was God punishing me for one day becoming gay when a doctor fingered my ass? Can he even punish people in advance? I figured if George Bush could do it, I wouldn’t put it past Jesus. My proactive hell sentence was about to start.

I had my insurance information faxed down from headquarters, stopped by the ATM, and drove up to the Urgent Care center. After waiting in line, I got up to the counter and this very nice, elderly black woman asked me what she could help me with. By now my head was spinning so bad I had to lean against the wall to keep from falling over, and I was fighting back wave after wave of nausea. I began to weakly mumble, “I am not sure if I should be here or go to the hospital but I just …”

“IM SORRY SUGAR, BUT i CAN’T HEAR VERY WELL, YOU GONNA HAVE TO SPEAK UP, TELL ME IN THIS EAR!” she said. “I beg your pardon, but I don’t know if I should be here, or go straight to the hospital. I just threw up a belly full of blood, and I’m very disoriented. Can you handle this or not?

“OH LAWD!” she said, “COME ON AROUND HERE SWEET HEART AND SIT YOURSELF DOWN IN THAT THERE CHAIR. WE GONNA CALL YOU UP AN AMBULANCE, YOU DON’T NEED TO BE DRIVING AROUND LIKE THIS. COME ON BACK HERE. DOCTOR, COME OVER HERE AND CHECK THIS BOY OUT, HE SAYS HE’S BEEN VOMITING BLOOD. LORD HAVE MERCY.”

That was followed by twenty minutes or so of questioning and blood pressure checks, and various other general medical pokes and prods. Before I knew it I was buckled into a stretcher and being loaded in the back of an ambulance by a freakishly short lady with a dyke hair cut, and a super hot young girl who made me a little nervous even through my gagging and vertigo. Thankfully she was the driver, because if there’s one thing I hate more than medical attention while I’m sick, it’s adding on sexual intimidation to the whole pile.

So it was me and the middle aged lesbian and her student, (who was male) and they prepped me with several more blood pressure tests, some electric sensors glued to my chest, and a big fat needle. Up to this point I had been hoping to get through this without having a metal tube shoved in my body. I mean I’m not exactly scared of needles in quite the same way that I may react to spider that get on me unexpectedly, but they just give me the willies. In fact, it didn’t really hurt at all going in. The pain was really more afterwards when she rammed this fucking needle/tube around the inside of my arm for a while trying to get some blood to come out. Turns out she hit some kind of valve in my arm, and while her second try was much more successful, the first stabbing left me with a big ass track mark running down my bow-pit like some kind of junkie.

When we got to the hospital, she told me she had to rip off the four wires that were attached to my chest and stomach, and the best way to do so, in her medical opinion, was to rip it off like a bandaid. She was legitimately freaked out having to do this, which puzzled me somewhat because I felt almost no discomfort, unlike the needle in my bow-pit which was now taped to my arm for no apparent reason, and stabbed me internally every time I bent or straightened my arm.

But anyway long story short they gave me a doggy bag, ushered me in my wheelchair through the paperwork process, (at that point I still couldn’t walk without stumbling from dizziness) and plopped me in front of the TV where I could watch Dwayne Johnson completely destroy the credibility of the Rundown and Walking Tall as he starred in the Game Plan. About the time that all the special features and extra footage for Apollo 13 were finishing I got called back to triage, but not to see a doctor, just to make sure I wasn’t getting worse. By the time Freaky Friday was wrapping up and Dennis the Menace was starting I was told that I could see a doctor soon, maybe, if nobody else’s condition got worse. When I first got there, I was told by a security guard that there was absolutely NO SMOKING anywhere on hospital premises. By midnight I wasn’t even walking ten feet from the front door to smoke. I was sick, and I had been there for over ten hours with a fucking needle in my arm, and if they gave me one ounce of shit for smoking after the day I had, they would be thanking their god of choice that they had done so while at a hospital.

When I did get back to a room to be examined, the nurse told me to take off all my clothes, and put on the hospital gown. You know the ones, the light blue floral pattern gowns that kind of tie in the back, but still leave you entire ass hanging out. So of course I did, checking the room for any signs of lubricant or vaseline, suspiciously eyeing anyone who walked past the slits in the curtains. And at long last a doctor did come to see me. He checked my breathing. He poked around my stomach for a few seconds. We chatted briefly, clarifying some of the account from the paperwork he had, and then he informed me that I would just need a few blood tests and assuming they turned out fine I could be on my way.

I was frankly relieved that there would be no fingers going into anyone’s bung holes that evening. As he left I asked him if I could throw some drawers back on to cover up, and he suggested I just stay how i was until they had finished the blood tests. Suddenly my brief wave of relief vanished, replaced only with a sharp dread. Where exactly would they be drawing blood from that required me to leave my pants off? Surely no place good. I was feeling much better by then, I could probably still survive if I made a mad dash for the safety of the lobby. Surely the guards would understand and not charge me with public nudity.

Well as it turns out they only had to stick me in my arm, and I was allowed to put my clothes back on. The only problem was that they had not used the needle I had been stuck with in the ambulance ride. No sir, that needle was completely useless, and had only been stabbing me in my arm for twelve hours because nobody really knew if I might need one like it or not. A fucking precautionary needle, as if I would need immediate intravenous attention and would not have the two seconds it takes for a nurse to poke me on demand. And on top of that, I now had both arms taped up with needles in my bow-pits. I’m not sure if I can convey the mental image of what a man looks like trying to put on his clothing when both his arms are fairly immobile. The pants weren’t such a problem. Hell, even my shoes and socks went on pretty easily.

My shirts on the other hand proved to be a bit more problematic. By then my curtain was open, and I was clearly visible from a large section of the hospital. I held my wife beater over my head and slowly but determinedly wriggled into it like a crippled snake climbing into a condom. After a lengthy and exhausting bout with futility I managed somehow to get it on in approximately the right location on my body. Next came my button up work uniform. I got one arm in and held it high over my head while trying to turn my left arm behind my body to find the arm hole. But try as I might, no arm hole was to be found. In fact, after closer inspection I discovered the sleeve was inside out. But on top of that I looked up to see no less than five nurses snickering in amusement as I desperately tried to get my shirt on without stabbing myself. I jerked around for a second or two longer, looking I’m sure like a retard at a rave, until I finally gave up in shame.

So anyway, all that to find out I have gastritis, or something along those lines, and my stomach and throat has eroded the lining that protects them from my digestive acids. Life’s a bitch I guess, but overall it seems like a fairly small problem with a fairly easy solution. And the best part is, I made it through the entire fiasco without losing my flaming heterosexuality. And that my friends is something I will cheers to. (except I am not supposed to drink much anymore, or smoke much, or eat spicy or greasy food or caffeine. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! See you all in hell)