It’s amazing what you learn while traipsing around the Internet - today, I learned about the Dunning-Kruger Effect:

The Dunning-Kruger effect is the phenomenon wherein people who have little knowledge (or skill) tend to think that they know more (or have more skill) than they do, while others who have much more knowledge tend to think that they know less.

I actually have a lot of experience with both ends of this. For example, I am firmly convinced that, if push came to shove, I would be fairly decent in a fight, despite the fact that I am out of shape and haven’t won a fight in, oh, ever. But, in part because it’s been a while since I’ve been in a fight, I have a certain unjustified confidence that I could at least last more than the 0.8 seconds it would take for someone to square their fist against my jaw. Conversely, the more I learn about my career, the less I feel I actually know - I know enough about System Administration-type work to have a much better understanding of what I don’t know than I did when I first started, so I can more clearly see my ignorance on many aspects of that field.

So, where am I going with this? Glad you asked…

Actually, no I’m not.  I have no idea where I’m going with this.  I can normally find millions of stories where this very principle applies.  Not today, though.  Today seems to be a Dunning-Kruger Free Zone, and for that, I am deeply offended and mortified.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a bunker to crawl into.  I hear they’re coming for Murphy’s Law next.

A couple of days ago, I received an e-mail from someone wondering what I knew about the Fernley Flood a while back and whether I knew who the builders out there were.  Unfortunately, I didn’t have much knowledge; I personally knew one of the attorneys that was doing a little work in the ensuing civil disputes so I sent the person their phone number, but that was about it.  In the process of the conversation, though, we began to discuss politics.  They identified as a “progressive liberal”.  I was intrigued - I hadn’t had an intelligent conversation with one before.  I think I can safely say I still haven’t.

NOTE:  This goes on for a while.  In fact, it goes on for a long while.  You’ve been warned.

Italics is my new “progressive liberal” friend.

Bold is your host.

Names have been omitted to protect the innocent.  We’re going to jump in right after I let the person know that I really didn’t know much about the Fernley Flood situation… which, well, I don’t. Sorry.

————–

Thanks, David.  My heart hurts for all those people who lost all the
owned.   Selling people property in a place they knew wasn’t safe to
build in.

Your political affiliation is?  Myself,  I’m a Progressive (Liberal).
What do you think of Assembly Speaker Barbara Buckley’s play for the
governorship in 2010?  The mining and casino industries own her like a
pair of shoes.  The three biggest TelCom’s have a piece of her as well.

————–

Thus it begins…

————–

I lean libertarian, myself.  I’ll have to admit, building homes next to a 100 year old dirt irrigation ditch was probably not the smartest idea in the free world.  Then again, neither was neglecting to purchase flood insurance when you’re living next to a 100 year old dirt irrigation ditch.  I suspect there was a lot of blame to go around, between whoever was responsible for maintaining the ditch, the people that approved the building of the homes by the ditch, those that built the homes, and those that bought homes next to an active, ancient irrigation ditch and didn’t think that might be worth insuring against.  I’d call it “systemic failure”, myself.

Ah, Barbara Buckley… it’ll be interesting to see how the next gubernatorial election shapes up.  I’ll have to admit, Gibbons has done a wonderful job of ruining the Republican brand as far as Nevada’s concerned.  Consequently, I’m not surprised that the two industries this state has (mining & casinos, of course) are doing what they can to curry favor with the “leading” Democratic candidate in the state.  That said, given a choice between her and Titus… oy.  I’ll have to admit, I’m not a big fan of Titus - I do live in Reno, after all, and she knows full well that we’ve done her no favors.  I suppose that, if I had to vote Democrat, I could probably vote for Derby without too many problems, but she seems rather fixated on Congress at the moment.  Can’t say I blame her.

————–

I was curious to see how well this person would react to that e-mail.  I touched on the concept of personal responsibility and seemed lukewarm on Democratic gubernatorial candidates.  The “progressive liberal” actually handled it reasonably well… at first.

————–

12 years of Repug failures (Guinn being a bigger failure than Gibbons)
should make voting Dem your only logical choice.  Looks like you’re have
an open field in 2016.  Obama’s natural choice for VP (Sebelius) will be
too old.

————–

Some interesting notes right about here:

1. Interesting that this person assumes that 2012 will default towards Obama & The Democrats.  It’s good to have faith in your candidate, but still, there’s a lot that can happen in four years.  Just ask our current President.
2. Also interesting that Kathleen Sebelius is considered the natural choice for Obama’s VP.  Not that I disagree, mind you - just interesting.

So, I replied:

————–

It should, but the Dems haven’t exactly been impressing me, either.  Reid and Pelosi have done disturbingly little to clean up the wonderful wave of corruption the Republicans put into place, and the Democrats have been just as bad with ethanol subsidies and corporate corruption as their Republican counterparts as of late (Countrywide?).  Very disappointing.  As for the state, well, yeah, Guinn and Gibbons have been pretty bad.  Then again, what are they going to be replaced with?  Titus?  Her idea of “let’s balance the budget” was to try and throw the gas holiday measure in with the casino tax bill.  I don’t know if it was Truman or Eisenhower who said this, but one of them said something to the effect that if Democrats try to out-Republican Republicans, people are just going to vote for Republicans.  The inverse, of course, is also true.

I wouldn’t be so sure about Obama making it through two terms.  Heck, McCain is a lot closer in the polls than he really has any right to be right now, which means that Obama may be getting elected not on the strength of his positions or his platform but simply because he’s not a Republican.  Ask Carter what kind of a domestic mandate that gives you.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t see any Reagans hiding in the shadows, but if Obama overplays his hand, the Republicans might not need one.  I don’t think I’ve been so underwhelmed during a presidential election before, and that includes Bush-Kerry.  That’s saying something right there.

————–

Now, when I mentioned “no more Reagans”, I meant that there weren’t any obviously charismatic Republicans waiting in the wings to become President that people would actually get excited about.  Simply put, there aren’t any interesting Republicans in the pipes at the moment, which is why I’m one of those that would rather vote for McCain and have a nominally fiscally conservative President than vote for Obama with the idea that it’ll teach anyone anything.  The Republican Party got lucky - they had a candidate in 1980 that was charismatic and had a wildly different platform than the Rockefeller Republicans that preceded him, which was more than enough to wipe the taint of Nixon and Ford out of everyone’s mouths.  Throw in an absolutely incompetent Carter administration and you had the perfect storm.  The Republicans aren’t going to have that in 2012, and people need to wake up and realize that.

The “progressive liberal”, meanwhile, responded.

————–

What this state needs is a GRT/B&OT — or whatever name you stick to it
but mining and casino’s need to be taxed accordingly.  That free ride
going on since forever would end with a governor doing their j-o-b.

Guinn moved Hell and high water to prevent that from happening.  Between
those two entities alone we could see our way out of this [fiscal]
darkness in short order.

Obama couldn’t loss this if Larry Sinclair had video of his allegations.
His election is a forgone conclusion and the repubs know it. Unless of
course the Bradley affect takes hold ‘bigtime.’

————–

Now, I’m not entirely up on tax & spend code, but I’m suspecting that GRT means “Gross Revenue Tax”.  I’m lost on B&OT, though.  Either way, this person’s solution towards Nevada’s fiscal ills is to increase taxes across the board, which is definitely a curious direction in the middle of an inflationary recession.  Nothing says, “Re-elect me!” like voting for something that increases further the price of goods and services, hinders job growth, and shows that the government isn’t exercising the same kind of fiscal restraint that its citizens are obliged to.

Larry Sinclair, meanwhile, has been the center of a story interesting enough to grant a Doonesbury cartoon.  Whether any of it is true or not, I don’t know.  I also don’t particularly care - if Obama’s on drugs or engaging in homosexual activities, it’s not a big deal in my book.  Besides, as the “progressive liberal” pointed out, proof is in the pudding, and, so far, no “pudding” on this “scandal” has been found.  I have bigger issues with his policies and his absolutely bizarre followers.  Of course, the idea that someone would fail to vote for Obama because they don’t agree with him is probably a foreign concept to some people, but whatever.

It’s my turn to respond:

————–

Perhaps - then again, if we set up a tax system dependent on our two biggest industries, it would only be a matter of time before one of them experienced some economic hardship and we’d be right back to where we are right now.  Besides, Nevada’s two primary methods of taxation are property taxes, which casinos and mines pay (except in downtown Reno, for various political reasons), and sales taxes, which gives us money from the tourists that visit the casinos.  All increasing taxes on casinos would do is cause them to tighten their odds, which would reduce the amount of spending money that tourists have, which, in turn, would just cause our sales taxes to drop.  That’s the problem with taxing businesses - they just pass the tax on to their customers and keep the same net profit margins.

I think you’re right - it’s definitely Obama’s race to lose.  People are nervous about the economy, the Republicans are completely confused, and Obama is extremely charismatic.  Obama would have to make a lot of very serious mistakes to lose this one.  That said, his numbers aren’t as strong as they should be at this point.  They might improve after the nomination and after the aftereffects of Hillary wear off, but we’ll see.

————–

Now, I’ll point out that, at this point, I’m being very civil.  At least, I think I am.  I’m trying to see this person’s side of the argument.  I’m even conceding bits and pieces of it.  Apparently, though, I hit a nerve, which is good because, otherwise, I would have had absolutely nothing to write about today.

————–

Ah, they say under ever Libertarian is a fiscal conservative.  Nice try,
but no cigar.  Surly you didn’t think you could sneak that ‘Norquistian
nonsense’ pass a tax and spend Liberal like myself.  Not a snowballs
chance in the VIP section of Hell you peddling that shit as truth here,
slick.  And next you’ll tell me pancakes grow on trees.

Neither pays their way, you know, and I know it.  A GRT is ‘long
overdue’ for both players.  When you partly blamed the homeowners for
buying there [Fernley] it gave away your mentality of indifference.  And
the ‘there’s no reagan” schtick.  May his worthless soul burn for all
eternity in that VIP section.  What was that ’stupidity’ you babbled
about the porr casino’s — talk about inventive silliness?   They’ll
just tighten the odds and pass it on?

Ok, I would say this has been informative but I’d be lying.  Your ilk of
politicos is why our republic is going to Hell in a hand basket.

Milton, why post a website about Fernley in the first place and you know
‘nothing’ outside of what’s in the public domain.

Idiot grow up, you’d probably make a fine adult if you thought further
out than your own [fiscal] bottom line.   You plan to run for President
– of what?

————–

I’ll just let my response speak for itself.

————–

Some fairly quick thoughts:
- My web site is not about Fernley.  I posted a couple of blog postings on it over six months ago because I have some friends that live out there.  I post about all kinds of things, of which the Fernley Flood was one of them.
- The whole “running for President” gag is a gag.  I was originally making fun of the rather lengthy primary process and it’s “declare for the Presidency a full two years in advance” routine by getting a jump on the process in a very tongue-in-cheek sort of way.  Whether you caught that or not, I’ll never know.
- Seeing as one of the biggest precepts of Libertarianism is, in fact, fiscal conservatism, it should not be surprising that I am, in fact, fiscally conservative.  It’s kind of hard to call yourself a Libertarian when you advocate taxing everyone and spending their money for them.  In fact, that would be the antithesis of Libertarianism.
- Nevada can pay its way one of two ways:  Raises taxes or buy less.  I’d prefer for Nevada’s legislature to make fewer spending promises.  You prefer that Nevada raises taxes.  Both approaches hurt, but in wildly different ways.  Considering how a lot of new industries are moving into Nevada precisely because of our tax-friendly environment, and considering how I’d actually like Nevada to have more than two industries to draw revenue from, I’d prefer to keep our tax-friendly environment in place.  Perhaps you feel we’re farther along in our economic diversification efforts.
- Yep, I’m generally indifferent of people that don’t bother to take steps to protect themselves against problems that they can’t afford out-of-pocket.  That’s the point of insurance, and it’s because too many people think short-term that it’s now legally mandatory that I and every other driver in every state other than Iowa has to have car insurance.  I’m not saying it’s the homeowner’s fault for buying in a flood plain, but it is their fault for not insuring themselves against the possibility that the flood plain might actually, y’know, flood.  Flood plains are funny like that.  Besides, when you buy a house next to something that carries substantial amounts of water, wouldn’t you kind of have to assume that, at some point, that something might find itself carrying more water than it was originally designed to carry?  Besides, we get floods of some sort in this area about once every three or four years, so it’s not like flooding is unprecedented.
- Pancakes do not, in fact, grow on trees.  The delicious syrup that I eat with them, however, does.
- It’s good to see that, under every “progressive liberal” is a condescending, arrogant ass (donkey?) who immediately goes towards personal insults and ad hominem attacks when pushed.  Comforting.

At this point, I suspect we can mutually agree that this conversation isn’t going anywhere - it seems neither of us is particularly convincing.  Consequently, I won’t be particularly responsive from here on out.

————–

I know I was probably a bit more of an ass towards the Fernley homeowners than I should have been, though I do really, truly think that flood insurance is a really, really good idea, even in a desert.  Too many people seem to think that, because we live in a desert, it never floods.  Quite the opposite is true - because it rarely rains, it doesn’t take anywhere near as much for the ground to get saturated and turn a cute little storm into a house eater.  I also hold true to my pro-maple syrup stance because it’s incredibly delicious and tasty.

So, there you go - I have conversed with the other side and now we are all richer for the experience.

Oh, and because it’s obligatory:

What, you thought I was going to post this?

Via Dr. Melissa Clouthier - Democrats Gear Up For Denver:

DENVER — As the Mile High City gears up to host a Democratic bash for 50,000, organizers are discovering the perils of trying to stage a political spectacle that’s also politically correct.

Consider the fanny packs.

Okay, wait… fanny packs? Are we seriously going to trust the operation of the greatest country in the free world to people that wear fanny packs? Think about it for a second.  You have a choice…

This:

Or this…

Yeah, that’s what I thought.

But wait… it gets worse!

But Matt Burns, a spokesman for the Republican convention, looks on with undisguised glee at some of the Democrats’ efforts — such as the “lean ‘n’ green” catering guidelines.

Among them: No fried food. And, on the theory that nutritious food is more vibrant, each meal should include “at least three of the following colors: red, green, yellow, blue/purple, and white.” (Garnishes don’t count.) At least 70% of ingredients should be organic or grown locally, to minimize emissions from fuel burned during transportation. “One would think,” says Mr. Burns, “that the Democrats in Denver have bigger fish to bake — they have ruled out frying already — than mandating color-coordinated pretzel platters.”

Democrats say the point is to build habits that will endure long after the convention. To that end, the city has staged “greening workshops” attended by hundreds of caterers, restaurant owners and hotel managers. “It’s the new patriotism,” Mayor Hickenlooper says.

That’s right - when you attend the Democratic Convention, they want you to build habits that will endure long after you leave.  Sounds sort of like church, doesn’t it?  You go to a building where the rules of reality no longer really apply, you get lectured for a while, people claim the food and drink does strange and unusual things, and that you’re only supposed to eat and drink certain things, and then you go home.  With any luck, after the Convention, you’ll be ready to dive into dumpsters when somebody puts plastics in the aluminum bin, buy only unionized organic cotton clothing that’s made in the USA, eat locally grown food, and, for the love of Gore, if you’re colorblind, well, that’s the affliction of Bushsatan right there.

But wait!  An old foe is attempting to repent!  They’re embracing the message.  They’re playing along.  They want to do what’s right.  What do you do?

But it’s almost inevitable that principles, politics and profit will conflict. To wit: Coors Brewing Co., in Golden, Colo., will donate biofuel made from beer waste to power the convention’s fleet of flex-fuel vehicles. A green star for the convention — but it has rankled die-hard liberals, who boycotted Coors in the 1960s and ’70s to protest hiring practices that they said discriminated against blacks, Latinos, women and gays. Heirs to the Coors fortune have long been active in conservative causes and Republican politics.

Oh yes - because of a forty year old grudge, some people are upset that Coors has the gall to turn their beer waste into biofuel and actually donate it to the DNC. How dare they provide free fuel when they were oppressing my grandparents’ gay black Mariachi-singing girlfriends? Remember - these are the same people that think they know how to handle the Middle East better than Bush.  I suppose they do get the dynamics of pointless multigenerational blood feuds, though, right?

Look, I’m not trying to claim that Republicans are perfect.  However, it’s becoming increasingly clear that the Democratic Party is being taken hostage by a bunch of psychotic ex-hippies who are doing everything possible to relive their adolescence in some sort of wacky midlife crisis.  At some point, we need to ask ourselves which way our country should go - down the path of endless rules, forever chasing the organic, local, unionized dream where we bury balloons in compost piles to make sure they’re environmentally kosher?  Or, do we dare to run screaming from the Environmentalian Orthodoxy and decide that the Earth will still orbit the Sun if we happen to get a cheap DVD player from China?

I know which way my vote is going - I can’t afford organic unionized local products, thank you very much.  I prefer my products to be cheap, inorganic and very much not unionized (I do have strong holdings in Confederated Slave Bonds, after all).

My brain is feeling moderately zombified today and there’s nothing good on the Internet right now, so I’m just going to kind of freestyle it…

First, a rather hilarious “interview” of Serj Tankian:

Next up… things that make me want to scream:

1. Politicians that pander on issues that truly matter.  Think Obama and his “tar sands” or McCain and his battery.  First off, batteries may not be the best way to move a car - BMW has been doing some incredible work with capacitors.  Secondly, is it really less environmentally friendly to pull oil out of some tar about a thousand miles north of us and pipe it down than it is to pull it out of the Middle East and ship it across the world?  How much longer are the American people going to find this environmentalist kneecapping of our gas prices tolerable?  People are environmentalists when they’re rich.  When they’re not, they tend to have a “I’m looking out for number one” policy.  The sickest part is that this pandering actually works - if it didn’t, they wouldn’t do it.
2. 9/11.
3. I need to get to bed earlier.
4. 9…
5. I don’t know if it’s the mild sleep deprivation or an actual problem, but it certainly seems like parts of my job are becoming increasingly complicated.  There used to be a time when it actually seemed that software writers were trying to make administrators’ lives easier.  Whether they were getting there or not, who knows?  But, it at least looked like they were trying.  However, as of late, I’ve seen weird package after annoying package that just jumps the level of needless complexity up a notch.  I don’t know why they’re doing it.  I don’t know who’s telling them it’s a good idea.  All I know is that, if somebody actually starts making some easy-to-use software that doesn’t throw around random roadblocks and call them “features”, they’re going to make a lot of money.
6. 11!
7. That’s all I have.

With that… I am done.

I had an epiphany this morning - this happens usually between that cloudy period of rolling out of the bed and when the last bit of coffee gets from my coffee pot and into my belly.  What was this epiphany, you ask?  I’m glad you did…

People that think that high gas prices are good for society because it causes people to drive less are just like those that think that the HPV vaccine shouldn’t exist because it encourages promiscuity.

What any person that says anything like this is saying is, “I don’t care how convenient or more pleasant life would be for most people if we had cheap gas/a vaccine for HPV/whatever - my beliefs are far more important than the happiness of a few million people.”  Rising food prices and increased poverty?  Small potatoes - we’re talking about the environment! Cervical cancer and unpleasant sexually transmitted diseases?  Not important - we’re talking about everybody’s eternal soul here!

What’s the common thread?  Religious fervor. My beliefs are more important than yours.  All I have to do to prove it is to require you to adhere to my beliefs, whether you want to or not.  Does this sound familiar?  It should.  It’s a message that’s as old as humanity itself.  It’s a message that carried Communism through Russia - if everybody is forced to be a Communist, we’ll see that it’s superior!  It’s a message that spread Wahabism through the Middle East - if everybody is forced to live with Sharia Law, we’ll see that it’s superior!  It’s a message that carried the message of Islam from Persia to Spain, carried Nazism from France to Stalingrad, carried the Khmer Rouge throughout Cambodia, and has, without a shadow of doubt, carried every single authoritarian bastard that thought he knew better than everyone else to power.

Just something to think about while you read this.

If a woman walks into a bar full of guys and starts talking to them halfway knowledgeably about football, all of the guys will ask for her number, assuming she’s not completely unattractive.  Conversely, if a man walks into a bar full of women and starts talking to them halfway intelligently about Sex In The City, all of the women will claim that they wish there were more sensitive guys like him, but none of them will give him their numbers, even when asked.

This means something… this is important.

If there’s one thing you can count on from the Elko Daily Free Press, it’s that it’ll point you in the general direction of something really annoying…

RENO (AP) - NAACP and American Civil Liberties Union officials have expressed concern over tougher admission standards at Nevada’s two universities, citing a report that shows they have caused a drop in minority enrollment.

Lucille Adin, president of the Reno-Sparks National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, said a further increase in the minimum grade point average from 2.75 to 3.0 this fall could discourage minority students from getting a higher education.

“We try to get these kids to go to college, and they make it so difficult by raising the grade point average and the tuition,” Adin told the Reno Gazette-Journal.

First off, let me begin by noting that, yes, this is an AP article, and I suppose that, as a blogger, I’m supposed to be boycotting them or something.  That’s nice. Unfortunately, noting this requires me to go on a tangent that I probably should save for another time, but, as the French say, c’est la vie.

I’m not into ideological purity.  I don’t care if it’s free software, Libertarianism, or whatever - I don’t believe that any single ideology can or should define my personal behaviors.  Life is far too complicated to be properly covered by a finite set of rules and regulations.  That’s not to say that a person shouldn’t have a broad, defining philosophy to guide their actions; failing to have one is a good way to drift around aimlessly.  However, attempting to be a “good” insert movement of choice here, whether that’s Christian, Atheist, Muslim, or conservative blogger, is a pointlessly limiting exercise.  In short, don’t add more rules and requirements in your life than you need in order to live your life productively without compromising somebody else’s ability to do the same.  This is why I’m not too concerned about the AP boycott - if they feel like calling me up and saying, “Hey, stop quoting our material,” fine, I’ll honor that.  Until then, I do think it’s unfortunate that the AP is being difficult with certain bloggers, and it’s unfortunate that they’re encouraging Estate 4.1 to use a different media service to meet their editorial needs, but, if that’s the choice they wish to make, well, it’s certainly within their rights to do so.

Back to the article at hand, though…

I can see how increased tuition would be unpleasant for everyone involved.  I was a college student in the University of Nevada system, and, though it was quite affordable (roughly $1800/semester for tuition for 15+ credits each semester I went there, not including books), I can definitely relate with the fact that a minor tuition increase is felt very sensitively against many college students there.  Since it’s a public university system, especially not a particularly well-renown one, many students there are self-supporting; put another way, you’re not seeing a whole lot of students whose parents are footing the bill.  That said, a 3.0 in high school is not too much to ask in order to attend a university.  If you can’t pull off a 3.0 in high school, you probably shouldn’t be going to college. Heck, I had a 3.7 in high school and, without getting into specifics, let’s just say my college GPA was not that high.  There are a lot of distractions once you go to college - nobody’s forcing you to show up to class, you probably have to do something on the side to pay for your existence, there’s minimal parental supervision, and there are a lot more social events.  If you’re doing such a poor job of handling the pressures of high school that you can’t even pull off a 3.0 there, well, how well do you think you’re going to handle college, hmm?

This brings me to Ms. Adin’s statement regarding the effect a higher GPA requirement affects minority enrollment:  Which is better for our minorities - letting them slip into college without sufficient preparation, so they’re up to their noses in student loan debt with nothing to show for it, or telling them that, sorry, they’re not prepared for college yet?  As someone with far more than I should have in student loan debt, I can tell you straight up that encouraging people to amass the kind of debt many poor students would need to accrue to successfully handle the financial pressures of college when they’re nowhere near ready or, at that time, capable of finishing a college education is morally bankrupt.  You’re staring someone in the eyes and saying, “Don’t worry about high school - you’ll be fine in college, regardless of whether your past experience has encouraged you in your abilities to handle further schooling.  It’s not like you’ll be saddled with crippling debt or waste years of your life that would have been better spent in a vocational program or anything.”  In short, if a student, minority or otherwise, can’t handle the educational pressures of high school, why should our publicly funded universities pay for that student’s education, in whole or in part?  It’s not a good investment for the student and it’s not a good investment for the state.

Besides, it’s not like the numbers for minorities are that bad:

The University of Nevada, Reno, reported a 35 percent increase in black students and a 10.6 percent decrease in Hispanic students.

Remember, folks, according to the new math, an increase in the number of a minority group’s enrollment is a sign that their ability to enroll is being threatened.  This, of course, is probably a shining example of the kind of logic one learns when you go to college without proper preparation beforehand.

On an entirely unrelated note, teens driving into a deer is newsworthy.  The more you know…

Or, I’m really tired of people ramming my truck.

Now that the ESO’s car is finally fixed, I’m back to driving my Dakota.  However, for reasons that completely escape me, it seems that people confuse it with the surrounding desert dirt (it is beige, after all).  At least, that’s my explanation for why, yesterday afternoon, somebody felt compelled to ram my truck in the middle of Carson City.

This would be the second time someone has rear-ended me in as many years.  I had never been rear-ended until I got that truck.

The best part, of course, was that, after pulling into a parking lot to talk to the lady that rammed me, I asked for her insurance card… and that’s when the waterworks hit.  Apparently, it was her dad’s car, she was a single mother, she just got divorced… in other words, Umm… I’m probably not insured and probably shouldn’t be driving this car.  Please let me go so the cops don’t arrest my sorry ass.  If you try to report this to an insurance agency, don’t be surprised if they laugh at you and you have to take me to court.

Great.

So, I looked at the damage.  It was a low speed collision (5-10 MPH, maybe) - the bumper was bent to hell but the frame was fine.  One of the nicer things about my Dakota is that you can literally see where the bumper bolts on to the frame; this means that, if I put my mind to it, I could probably replace the bumper with one from the junkyard in under an hour.  The bad news, though, is that, if I tried to report this to my insurance agency and took it to a body shop, the cost of repairing it would be under my deductible… which meant it wasn’t worth reporting, seeing as the likelihood I’d ever see a dime from Miss Uninsured Single Mother Driving Her Dad’s Pontiac was next to nil.

Naturally, “her” Pontiac was fine… apparently, the Grand Prix is a surprisingly durable car.  It definitely fared better than the Honda Accord that rammed into me on the freeway last year.  As an aside, the driver of the Accord provided her insurance paperwork promptly, and, seeing as the damage was about the same, no, I didn’t report her, either.

This brings up a point - if women drivers are so safe, how come both people that rammed into me in traffic were both women? Sorry, ladies - you’re at least as inattentive as the men out there.  In fact, based on my personal, anecdotal experience, I’d say my truck would have a much lower chance of getting slammed into if everybody with more estrogen than testosterone got off of my f—ing road.

There.  I said it.  Women can’t drive.  When they stop ramming the back of my truck, I’ll stop being bitterly mysogenistic about this.  Until then, deal.

I mean, why else would they smear Preparation H all over themselves?

New York bouncer, blogger and author Rob Fitzgerald has noticed a trend among many of the macho young men waiting outside his clubs. He says the guys are slathering up their torsos with the hemorrhoid cream Preparation H to make themselves look “ripped” for the ladies.

Fitzgerald asked one of these guys to describe the practice for his blog, Clublife, “The way you use it is to take your shirt off and rub it all over yourself before you go to the club,” a man who gave the alias, Peter Minichiello, says. “If you want to get [lucky], you have to know how to dance, and if you want girls to dance with you, you have to look ripped.”

If by “ripped”, you mean “treat yourself like the giant, throbbing hemhorroid you are”, uh… wait, where was I?

“Applying it to one’s chest is an off-label use of Preparation H,” said Milicent Brooks, a representative of Wyeth Consumer Healthcare. “We don’t approve or endorse any off-label uses.”

Well, glad we have that established.  I wonder what other random crap I can pour on myself to convince the ladies that I’m “hot”?

“If anything, it would make your chest smaller,” said Dr. Darrell S. Rigel, clinical professor of dermatology at New York University Medical Center in New York City. “Medically, there’s nothing in there to make you bigger. If you put cayenne pepper on you, now that would do something — that would be the opposite of Preparation H.”

Cayenne pepper!  Of course!  That way, instead of being less of a hemhorroid upon society, I can instead become a giant puddle of flaming diarrhea upon every single woman in sight!  How can I, or every person unfortunate enough to be around a giant walking asshole like myself, lose?

Other products that do fun things to clubbers when poured on the body:

1. Hydrochloric Acid
2. Laboratory-Grade Hydrogen Peroxide
3. Leprous Tissue
4. Leeches
5. Urine
6. Raw Salmon
7. Iodized Salt
8. Borax
9. Any movie featuring Lindsay Lohan
10. Duct Tape

I think Fark’s summary pretty well nails it:

Driver calls 911 to report she can’t unlock her car doors. The operator discovered the CALL WAS COMING FROM INSIDE THE CAR

Let’s grab ourselves a slice of this bountiful pizza of stupid, shall we?

A woman called Orem police Friday afternoon needing help because her battery died and she was locked inside her car.

When police arrived, they found the woman sitting in the car, unable to get herself out. She couldn’t hear the officers instructions through the rolled-up windows so she motioned to them to call her on her cell phone, according to police.

Must not make fun of Orem.  God will kill me.  Must not point out proximity to Provo and BYU campus.  God will smite me.  Must not make fun of Mormons.  God will *bzzzzaaaaapppp*

“I’m just glad she had a cell phone to call for help,” an officer said.

Since some people are apparently confused about the nature of door locks, allow me to provide a basic primer:

Door Lock Basics

Door locks generally have two positions - locked and unlocked.  Depending on the make and model of your vehicle, you will experience door locks belonging to one of two families:

Push-rod style - This is a thin rod sticking out of the top of your door.  If it’s a powered lock, pressing the “lock” button will cause this rod to go into the door.  “Unlock” will, similarly, cause the rod to come out of the door.  In order to manually operate a push-rod style door lock, simply mimic the behavior of the lock when applying the automatic lock - pull the lock out with your forefinger and your thumb to unlock, push the lock down with something to lock it.  This style is common on American vehicles, especially older ones.

Slide or hinge style - This style has a number of variations, but they generally behave in the same way.  The door lock mechanism is either a hinged button or a slider that sits in the door and is not readily visible from the outside, at least not from the same side of the car that the lock is located on.  Depending on the type, unlocking the door will involve either pushing or sliding the lock into a position that, more often than not, reveals a colored area (usually red) indicating that the door is unlocked.  Locking is the reverse of this - make the red or otherwise colored area disappear to be secure.  When in doubt, pretend the door lock is your neighborhood; unless you plan on leaving soon, more color is almost always bad.

(Note:  If you’re drain bamaged enough to not know how to operate a car door lock, you’re precisely the target for that last line there.  Think about it.)

Thus endeth today’s primer on car door locks.

Oh dear, sweet zombie Jesus… why, oh why, didn’t someone warn me that the fifth elephant of the apocalypse had arrived?

Guys, you can survive ‘Sex and the City’

Seeing the movie about Carrie and Co. won’t cause irreparable harm to any man — even though it is a tad long at 21/2 hours.

Man should not live by bread alone. Every once in a while, he should turn off The Game, ditch the remote, put on some clean clothes and embrace his feminine side.

That’s what one man set out to do Friday when I journeyed to Glendale and dived into the first-night frenzy of “Sex and the City”.

Following in the steps of the countless legions of rabid female fans and their gay male comrades who packed theaters around the country to worship at the spiky heels of Carrie Bradshaw & Co., I wanted to see if I too could get “Carried Away.” Accompanying a female posse of devotees, my attempt at a Girls Night Out hit a few bumps.

Just thinking about this undertaking probably horrifies the multitudes of proud beef-eating men who would rather endure a thousand shopping trips with their significant others than spend more than a minute with the “Sex and the City” crew. Weeks before the opening, in locker rooms and around water coolers, they spread their anti-”Sex” venom, declaring, “Heck, no, we won’t go.” Only they didn’t say “heck.”

However, there exists a quiet ya-ya brotherhood of straight men who have a divine secret: They can enjoy “Sex and the City” even without female coercion or guidance. The writing on the HBO series was often clever and snappy, the women were smart and attractive (I always had a weakness for Cynthia Nixon’s Miranda), and the show provided valuable insight into how women view men, love and relationships.

OK men, you know it’s coming. With Sex and the City opening this week, your wife or girlfriend already is plotting ways to get you into the theater. After all, you did drag her to “Iron Man” several weeks ago. The question is, “Will you be able to stand it?”

There’s “sex” is in the title, and the R rating promises at least a few flashes of nudity, so that’s promising. But that darn TV show made a big deal out of girly stuff like fashion and gossip, and word is the movie revolves around a wedding. Bad sign.

Allow me, as a guy who has watched nary an episode, to prepare you for the theatrical experience.

The good news is that “Sex and the City” isn’t a bad movie. Writer-director Michael Patrick King, a major player on the HBO series, has crafted a feature that stands nicely on its own. That means even viewers who have never heard of Carrie Bradshaw quickly will grasp both the characters and plotting.

The bad news? The film is filled with women-first content, and there isn’t an explosion or car chase in the whole darn thing.

Okay, you know what?  I’m getting rather sick and annoyed by the constant condescension that seems to come with this show.  “Oh, it’s okay - you can spend a minute away from SportsCenter and do something the girl wants”… because, after all, that’s what men do, right?  Sit on the couch and watch ESPN for 18 hours a day?  Of course that’s all we do - we’re men! Why would we do more than that?  We learned it from our dads, who did nothing more than play golf with the buddies every day!  Yeah!

Here’s the deal - I didn’t drag the ESO to Iron Man.  Even if I were interested in seeing the movie, I wouldn’t drag her to that - that’s what my guy friends are for.  Similarly, if my ESO was the type of person to abandon all taste and sense and actually follow that vapid Cosmo girl porn shit (at which point she would no longer be the ESO - I’m serious here!), she could watch it with her girlfriends.  That’s what they’re there for. I don’t know who the “genius” was that said it was necessary for the guy to be into everything the girl is into, but, whoever was responsible for that “epiphany” needs to be taken out to the desert and “dealt with”, if you get my meaning.  Getting laid isn’t worth that.  Have some pride… or at least get some lotion and use that broadband connection for something useful.  Jesus.

Ah, the joys of parental stupidity… like agreeing to give your toddler Ritalin:

TODDLERS as young as two are being diagnosed with ADHD and prescribed drugs including Ritalin.

Figures obtained by The Daily Telegraph reveal 311 children in NSW aged five and under depend on controversial medication, including 58 four-year-olds and 13 three-year-olds.

Health Department figures show that, nationally, doctors have prescribed ADHD drugs to five toddlers aged only two, despite possible side effects.

The mother of one four-year-old who has been on Ritalin since the age of three said she knew there could be long-term effects but the change in her son’s behaviour was worth the risk.

“At first I was hoping he didn’t have ADHD and I didn’t want to put him on medication but I thought I should give it a go and there has been a big improvement,” the single mother of two told The Daily Telegraph.

I bet. If I were to start spiking my son’s food with vodka, he’d probably calm down and stop launching himself off of monkey bars to the detriment of his elbow. Then again, he’d also be a five year old zombie child that, if I died his hair blond, would be a perfect double for one of those “Village of the Damned” children.

Notice to all parents: Children are crazy. They like to run, jump, swim, and otherwise drain every ounce of energy from your being. That’s normal. They will probably also severely injure themselves in the process. That’s also normal. Get over it and stop doping your children. If you can’t handle that, stop waiting ’til you’re 40 to have children. Simple, no? Have children while you still have the energy to have them, instead of waiting until you feel you’ve accomplished your career goals first, most of which you could probably accomplish with a child anyways. It’s not that complicated, and it’s not like you were going to retire at 60 anyways. Hell, I don’t see any compelling reason why I can’t do my job well into my 70s, nor do I see any compelling reason why I wouldn’t want to - I mean, yeah, vacations are fun and all, but that’s where becoming an “independent contractor” could come into play.

Gah. How would you even tell the difference between a “hyperactive” two-year-old and a normal two-year-old? I’d be more worried if any two-year-old in my care wasn’t hyperactive, y’know?

I think I’ve discovered a Microsoft product that bugs me more than Vista… and that’s really saying something.  That’s right - I’m talking about MSN, home of the misandrous womyn wryters of Beaverton, who come up with random garbage like “Things a Man Should Never Do in the Company of a Woman” (H/T Trying to Grok).  So, without further ado, being the delectably misogynistic asshole that I am, I bring to you…

Things a Woman Should Never Do in the Company of a Man

1. Reveal how much Daddy paid for your car.
2. Clean your scented, aromatic potpourri candle.
3. Dust your high school yearbook, containing that picture of your “hot date from prom” that we will never be able to un-see again.
4. Refer to your mother as your best friend.  It’s bad enough dealing with you - do we really have to deal with her nuttiness, too?
5. Hoochy Dance
6. Check out our supervisor/roommate/mechanic.
7. Question our footwear.  Mandals with socks are perfectly acceptable. Get over it.
8. Blow dry your pubic hair.
9. Tip the cute waiter at Olive Garden more than 25%.
10. Celebrity impressions… of characters from any show that’s on CW, Logo, Lifetime, or Oxygen.
11. Impressions of us.  Me Testiclees.  You not.
12. Forget to carry cash, plastic, and driver’s license while possessing a handbag that is larger than a military issue backpack and apparently only contains make-up and make-up accessories.
13. Flip it, flop it, swing it around, tug on it, adjust it, scratch it, or do anything that will remind us that it’s just a human milk dispensary and not a mystical source of pleasure and satisfaction.
14. Laugh at video games
15. Gay Pride parade
16. Scream—at the dog, at the guy who just stole your parking spot, at Jessica Simpson. Because, no matter how much Jessica deserves it (stupid!), when we hear you raise your voice, we have an idea of what we’re in for.
17. Talk about former exploits.  Ever.
18. Use the words stupid, asshole, jackass, or neanderthal, unless referring to another woman.
19. Tell us you’re going to fornicate with us (Just do it already!).

I’m so glad I could finally set some boundaries.  Seriously, women piss me off.  Especially liberals.  Liberal women piss me off.  They think they’re saving the world, but they’re just making drum circles in their backyards and smoking weed…

Cassy Fiano hit on MSN’s latest bit of relationship-related “advice for men” douchebaggery; fortunately, since MSN is equal-opportunity as far as screwing people’s lives up the ass (sort of like their parent company), this means I get to provide the male perspective on MSN’s contrapuntal douchestickery (because there has to be a stick to go with the bag, no?):

5 dates no guy wants to go on

Hiking
Hiking is an activity many men look forward to with the same relish they take in reading Aristotle in the original Greek, receiving a prostate exam, or attending a Celine Dion concert. The way we see it, nature is way overrated. How many flowers can you smell? How many sunsets can you ooh and ahh over? How many coyotes can you worry about being in the vicinity? Plus, there’s no access to the Internet or email. No TV sports. Bugs everywhere. What about any of this spells fun? Unless you look at fun as the first three letters of funeral.

You want your shot of nature? Invite us to the beach at sunset. Take a blanket and a six-pack, make out for half an hour, then head home so we can get back to civilization. That’s enough nature to hold us for the next three months.

Okay, first off, I love hiking.  I’m not kidding.  In fact, I prefer hiking far above going to the beach - seriously, there’s only so much sand you can look at, y’know?  Besides, a blanket and a six-pack?  Really?  If you can’t make out in the woods, you clearly aren’t thinking creatively enough about your surroundings.  I mean, pollination happens in the woods.  Pollination!  We’re talking the birds and the bees, people!  Focus!

Opera
If given the choice of how to spend a Friday or Saturday night, what guy wouldn’t vote for putting on some uncomfortable formal clothing after spending a couple of hundred dollars for tickets, then another hefty chunk for parking, all to hear overly-costumed and overly-made-up folks belting out tunes that don’t have a beat and don’t rhyme, in a language only U.N. translators can understand? Exactly. And yet we still get the evil look from girlfriends when we try to stay awake during Madame Butterfly by playing a video game on our cell phones.

If we must do something cultural and uplifting, at least make it ballet, where the women are in shape, wearing form-revealing clothing and moving their bodies in ways that cause us to imagine them with us in a variety of other non-dance situations. It ain’t Dancing With the Stars, but it sure beats counting down the seconds ’til it’s over when the fat lady sings.

All right - given a choice between opera and ballet, I’d much rather watch opera.  Most ballet women aren’t that cute.  Yes, they’re wearing form fitting outfits, and, yes, they’re built like sticks.  Great.  Too bad there’s French music in the background… I mean, the t is silent, for God’s sake.  Silent consonants are the mark of the beast!

Travel
If my extensive online-dating experience has taught me nothing else, it’s that, at least according to their dating profiles, the one thing every woman most enjoys is travelling. Yes, they all want to get out of the country and see the world, explore other cultures, become enriched and broaden their horizons. These are all noble and worthy pursuits. Men, however, view travel slightly differently. We even spell it differently. We spell it this way: t$r$a$v$e$l. We also view it as time away from our jobs. This will virtually guarantee that not only will a huge stack of work be waiting for us upon our return (and that our bosses will find out the business runs just fine without our being there), but we’ll no doubt come down with some exotic disease and need to be treated in a culture where doctors are still playing catch-up with the wonders of Medieval medicine.

Got the travel bug, ladies? That’s why God created National Geographic. We’ll gladly treat you to a subscription.

All right - if you’re so attached to your job that you’re not willing to get out of the house, you don’t need a girlfriend.  You might want to looking at getting a therapist, or perhaps moving to Japan and gaining employment with a nice, paternalistic keiretsu.  At least you won’t have to be so insecure with your job that you’re firmly convinced that leaving your desk for more than a weekend will lead to a trip to the unemployment line.  Oh, but that would involve travel.  Apparently, whoever wrote this article has never heard of a road trip.

(PS:  Some of us are actually good enough at our jobs to not have to worry about losing our jobs when we skip town for a while.  If you’re not, that’s your problem… and, with any luck, it’ll be ours once we take your job from the stupid gasbaggy waste of carbon that you call your “self”.)

(PPS:  There are some women out there whose idea of travel is “Let’s go to insert expensive urban area here and go to the most expensive stores and restaurants and blow your savings!”  They will be the first against the wall when the revolution comes.  Oh, and any woman who travels with her boyfriend so she can work in an extravagant version of the next item into her life should be flogged painfully and repeatedly… with a thick wooden stick.  Oak is good, or possibly hickory.  Pine is too soft.)

Clothes shopping
This is how men view clothes shopping: You get to follow your sweetie from store to store with the added bonus of holding her purse as she tries on one dress, blouse, or pair of shoes after another, while you struggle to convince her that each garment does not, in fact, make her butt look big. (Even the shoes!) Occasionally you meet the eyes of another girl’s boyfriend there against his will, and the look you give each other is as though you’re both begging, “PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY NOW!”

You want to try on clothes? Great, we’re OK with that. Just not in the mall. And we don’t care if you try to sweeten the offer with cappuccino and doing some clothes shopping for us. Instead, here’s what we would be interested in: We’ll light candles, put on some mood music, pour some wine, and you can give us a private fashion show. Oh, sure, it won’t be nearly the same without the neon lights, price tags, and judgmental stares from other women who think we’re perverts as we wait for you to emerge from the dressing room. But it’ll be close enough for us.

Okay, yeah, I’m largely agreeing with this one.  Clothes shopping is not a date.  This would be like taking a girl to the auto parts store to shop gasket sealers.  Pass.

Relationship workshops
Naturally, we men are going to want to avoid the mistakes we made in our past relationships, and we’re not averse to keeping our current romantic relationship as perfectly tuned up as our cars. But that doesn’t mean we welcome the prospect of attending the “Enhancing Couples’ Intimacy Workshop” or “The Two of You: Closer than Ever! Seminar” to which you’re so determined to drag us. It’s bad enough our intimacy needs enhancing; must we now attempt to jump-start it in a face-to-face with other romantic losers? We’d rather get up at 5 a.m. Sunday morning to join you on a bird-watching walk. We’d rather get in touch with our feelings and cry about what we never got to tell our fathers. We’d rather attend a taping of Ellen.

You want to enhance our intimacy? We’re all for it. Hold our hands, kiss us passionately, give us a massage, get naked with us—you’ll be stunned at the intensity of intimacy enhancement. In fact, let’s start right now. After all, we went hiking with you; it’s your turn to do something we enjoy. Hey, where are you going? Oh, come on, it’ll be fun!

What woman in their right mind would even think this was a good idea?  Seriously, raise your hands - go ahead, I won’t bite.  I’ve yet to meet a single woman that ever said, “Hey, y’know what?  I’m going to take my boyfriend to a relationship workshop!  We’re going to love it!”  No, if they’re saying “relationship workshop”, it’s because they think the relationship needs some serious help… or, at the very least, that they’re trying to scare the guy enough to convince him to free her up so she can hit on that hot stud across the bar.

The moral of the story?  MSN’s idea of dating advice is almost as useful as Microsoft’s idea of an operating system - bloated and horribly wrong.

Army of Dog and Rachel Lucas both touched on Beyonce’s new line of whore-chic children’s wear. Since bringing that up is completely and utterly meaningless without the pic, well… here it is:

Rachel’s thoughts?

Malkin has the full ad. Be prepared to be blown away by the wholesome cuteness of 4-year-olds looking like they’re in need of pimps.

They don’t need pimps - they already have one. I have proof right here (H/T Fazed):

LAKE PARK, Fla. — A 7-year-old boy who took his grandmother’s car on a joyride last month has been taken for a mental health evaluation after he allegedly beat her up inside a South Florida Wal-Mart, WPBF News 25 reported.

Latarian Milton told WPBF on April 28 that he took his grandmother’s Dodge Durango on a joyride because he was mad at his mother and because he enjoyed doing “bad things.”“I wanted to do it because it’s fun. It’s fun to do bad things,” Milton said. “I wanted to do hood-rat stuff for my friend.”

Of course, our pimp search would be highly incomplete without an accompanying picture, right?

He was last heard uttering, “Give me my fitty cent, bitch, otherwise I’m gonna have to do to you what I done did to my grandma!“

Getting back into the swing of the blogosphere after a week-long absence is not entirely dissimilar to merging on to a freeway while doing 35 MPH - if you plan on not getting run over, you better damn well hit the accelerator and hard.  To that end…

Rachel Lucas gets really, really close to a very important point:

So there’s really not a lot of mystery about what everyone agrees a “real” man is. We all know “real” men are:

Mentally, emotionally, and intellectually strong, even if not physically (crippled and elderly men can still be “real” men). Hardworking, honorable, honest, dutiful, protective of family and country. Brave, courageous, rational, reasonable, kindhearted, and respectful. Knowledgeable about how to survive in rough times and how to solve problems. And so on.

What I started wanting to know when I was about 16 was just how in the hell any of those things were (or should be) exclusive to men. I realized even then that in fact, they are not. All adults should have every one of those personality and character traits as a matter of course.

So then I started wondering why anyone bothered with the phrase “real man” at all. Don’t they just mean “real adult”? As a young girl, shouldn’t I strive to be exactly the kind of person I kept hearing a “real man” would be? I thought so, and I still do. Maybe that’s why you never hear me whining about how my butt looks in these jeans or crying that no one pays enough attention to me. Who gives a crap? I don’t need any reassurances about silly shit because apparently, I am a “real man”, secure in my own “manliness”. Even though I’m a woman.

I say close for a reason:

Now, what the fuck? Why can’t I just say I’m a “real woman”? Because no one ever talks about that. Except in the context of how “real women” have curves and “real women” don’t look like Heidi Klum. Of course, of course it always comes back to looks and sex when you’re talking about women.

Here’s the deal - I know that everyone likes to belong to some group or some tribe.  I understand that, historically, men and women had distinct roles - men were the breadwinners while women were the homemakers.  What almost everybody seems to forget is that this division of labor is only a division of labor, not a division of responsibilities.  Consequently, talking about “manifestos for men” or “manifestos for women”, as if men and women are really different enough to require entirely different assumptions of behavior is absurd.  It’s not about being a “real man” or a “real woman”.  It’s about being a “real adult”, a concept which seems to be completely missing from a lot of people’s lives.

I’m going to lay it out right here and now - I don’t care if you’re a man or a woman, you should not:

• Completely ignore basic hygiene.  Being a guy is no excuse to not take care of yourself a little.
• Not know the absolute basics about maintenance of anything you own.  I’m not saying everybody should know how to disassemble a DVD player, but everybody (man or woman) should at least have a basic understanding of how to check their oil, where the fuse box of their house is, be able to cook something, and what to do with a hammer and a set of nails.
• Fly off the handle or panic whenever something goes wrong.  I don’t care if you’re a man, woman, or hermaphrodite, that is absolutely no excuse to become hysterical.  Take a deep breath, shut up, and get over it.
• Assume that because you’re having an emotion, you must react to it.  This bugs me to no end.  At some point, it seems that most people just collectively decided that, if they’re feeling something, they must respond to it, as if emotions are somehow sacrosanct or something.  I suspect it has something to do with the so-called “Holy Ghost”, where so many people were taught that there is this little voice that instinctively tells you whether something is right or wrong.  Well, guess what?  Instincts suck. Your instincts will tell you that you should go hit on that hot blond over there.  Instincts will tell you to load up on extra bacon with your hamburger.  Instincts will tell you that you should sit on the couch instead of going for a walk.  In short, instincts tell you all kinds of things that are completely and totally wrong.  What separates the men from the boys, and the women from the girls, is the use of reason.  Reason, you see, is that hopefully-not-so-little part of you that lets you take a look at what’s going on around you, processes it, and tells you what you can do to benefit yourself, both short term or long term.  It can be wrong from time to time, and, in fact, probably will be, but I guaran-GOD DAMN-tee you that it will be wrong far less than any gut emotional reaction you’ve ever had.  The use of reason is not an explicitly male trait - it’s an explicitly adult trait.
• Assume you don’t have to work.  Housework is hard.  That’s why nobody likes to do it.  In fact, work in general is hard - that’s why it’s work.  If it wasn’t work, we’d call it something else, like play or fun.  I don’t care how pretty you are, you better do something useful.  If it’s make more money than me, I’m okay with that, but it better be something.  “Looking good” is not useful, and, even if it were, you will fail at that after about 10-15 years, so, uh, if that’s all you’re good at, don’t be surprised if your wrinkly useless-assed bitchiness is suddenly and wantonly abandoned for someone else who does your “job” of “looking good” better than you… and, I guarantee you, for enough money, we will always be able to find someone that looks better than you.  Always.

Look, I can go on like this for hours, but I’m going to stop now.  Here’s my point - Cassy, Melissa, Rachel… heck, even Dr. Helen, you’re fighting the wrong war.  It’s “us vs. them” all right, but it’s not “men against women”, or “real men against fake men” or anything of that sort.  It’s adults vs. children, and I, for one, not only refuse to lose to my intellectual and emotional inferiors, but I refuse to let my enemy misguide me into fighting a war that doesn’t exist.

Cassy Fiano, who is having a rather good day today, discovered that the heinous adulterer of Heinlein’s sacred works (none other than the accursed Paul Verhoeven) has decided to aim his unique and ineffable “skill” at completely and arbitrarily ignoring the text of his sources towards some little-known text called The New Testament:

‘Basic Instinct’ Director Paul Verhoeven: Jesus Was Son of Mary and Roman Rapist

In his upcoming biography of Jesus, “Basic Instinct” director Paul Verhoeven will make the shocking claim that Christ probably was the son of Mary and a Roman soldier who raped her during the Jewish uprising in Galilee.

[…]

In addition to suggesting that the Virgin Mary may have been a rape victim, the book will also say that Christ was not betrayed by Judas Iscariot, one of the 12 original apostles of Jesus, as the New Testament states.

Keep in mind that this is the same man who upon being tasked with writing a movie based upon Starship Troopers, tried to read the book but failed, becoming “bored and depressed”. I’m suspecting something similar happened here; I’m not even sure if he made it past Matthew 1:17… not that I blame him. I mean, after reading about Elezear and Matthan, I became bored and depressed myself.

Would you like to learn more? I don’t frakkin’ think so.

NOTE: I actually liked the movie, cheesy and heretical as it was. Even so, I definitely understand the viewpoint of those that actually grew up with the book, only to watch Mr. Verhoeven basically swallow the entire premise, ferment it in some weird dystopian nightmare, then excrete it through the bowels of Denise Richards’ inexplicable refusal to show some cleavage. Consequently, this post is for you.

I found a typing game on Fazed, so I thought it would be fun to try. End result?

That’s right - 113 words per minute. This is the part where the rest of the blogging world quivers up into a tiny, insignificant ball, as they suddenly realize that I can outblog the rest of the Internet nearly 2 to 1. Heck, I even read faster than all of you.

There is no escape. Resistance is futile.

Found this on Squeaky Wheel Seeks Grease, and decided it looked like fun:

Here are the rules:

1. Pick up the nearest book of 123 pages or more. No cheating!
2. Find page 123.
3. Find the first five sentences.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.

There shall be no tagging because tag is an offensive, oppressive game used by the white man to keep the black woman down. Even so, I’ll participate in the other four… and, to bring it home, seeing as I’m sitting at work, I’ll use “UML and the Unified Process”, which just happens to be the closest book sitting to me.

Prepare to be regaled with the most boring passages in your natural-born life!

However, it is class scope - this means that there is only one copy, and this single copy is only initialized once. Exactly when that happens is implementation language dependent but, as far as we are concerned, all we have to know is that it initialized to the value zero when the program started.

Suppose that in the create() operation you invoke the class scope operation IncrementCount().

Oh yes! There are pages and pages of that, all in that book, and I had to read every single page of it during my senior year of college. Oh, what horribly good times those were! It was due, in no small part, to books of that ilk that I developed the appreciation for computer programming that I have today, which is a big reason why I don’t, in fact, due programming as a full-time profession.

*sigh*… The memories.

I was meditating upon the Two Doggesses, pondering the deeper nature of pork and pork treats, when I realized something:

I was hungry.

The meditative session led me further down this road, exploring all the possibilities available to me to rectify this mildly unpleasant situation, when I remembered something that my ESO mentioned to me. See, the ESO is taking Italian this semester, and one of the things she’s learned is that, in Italy, they like to put prosciutto on damn near everything. An interesting combination she taught me about was prosciutto-wrapped cantaloupe. Since stomach was of the essence, I decided it was high-time I make sure she wasn’t pulling my leg.

She wasn’t.

I briefly meditated on this, allowing the folds of the thought to caress against my mind, when another thought entered my head: I hate cantaloupe. Consequently, there isn’t any in the house. There were, however, some apples - red delicious ones, to be exact… which is how this was born:

That’s right - prosciutto-wrapped apple slices. I then proceeded to eat one.

Verdict: There’s a reason the title of this post isn’t, “The most delicious food I have ever eaten!!!” I’m not kidding. Imagine, for a second, if you took a fresh, crisp apple, sliced it up, and then wrapped it with something that tasted vaguely of either cheesy pork or porky cheese, had the texture of melted cheese, and which, when you bit into it, would fight you like a thin slice of deli ham. Sounds delicious, right? No? It doesn’t? Could there be a reason for that? Of course not - that would make sense!

Now, don’t get me wrong - I love prosciutto. There’s a reason it’s in this house, and it’s not my ESO; she hates pork. I’m not kidding here. In fact, I happily snack on the stuff plain. It’s glorious. However, unlike all of the colorful descriptions of prosciutto and cantaloupe I saw, about how the flavors compliment each other and balance each other out, prosciutto and apple brings out the absolute worst in each other. You’re basically eating something that starts off mildly salty and meaty, then gets really crispy in a hurry, and then releases a bunch of insanely sweet apple juice, which blends with the porkmeat absolutely not at all.

I highly doubt that anyone that reads this blog was ever seriously thinking of combining these two foods. However, on the off chance that someone out there woke up this morning and thought to themselves, “Wow, if prosciutto is delicious with cantaloupe, how would it be with an apple?”, well, the answer is, “I don’t know how it is with a green apple, but, for the love of all that is good and holy, don’t use the red ones.”

This public service announcement has been brought to you by David Colborne’s Stomach and the People’s Committee To Feed David Colborne.

My supervisor decided to host Movie Night tonight, and I just returned from it… and I think I can safely say that I saw one of the most disturbing movies ever.

That’s right - Transformers: The Movie. No, not the Austin Bay vehicle that came out recently. I’m talking about the cartoon one from 1987. Somehow, I never saw it during my childhood. Having just witnessed it, I’m beginning to understand why. The net effect was not entirely dissimilar to what I imagine would happen if I were to watch a two hour long marathon of Voltron while sniffing paint thinner, assuming a doggy-style position, and letting the guy who played Steve Urkel shove an open bottle of Everclear up my ass.

I’m certain that, in the original Tamil, Khmer, or whatever other random, esoteric Eastern Asian language this movie was originally written in, the movie made a fair amount of sense. I’m sure that, in Upper Volta, Manchukuo, or wherever, playing Weird Al’s “Dare to be Stupid” as the musical backdrop to a tense fighting scene makes perfect sense. I’m also certain that this movie demoralized Leonard Nimoy just enough to convince him to deal with William Shatner’s directing. Unfortunately, here in the USA, all of these things just border on the surreal, if not the openly bizarre.

The plot? You want a plot? Fine - I was almost done repressing the memories, but I’ll suffer one last exercise in long-term memory for you, my dear fans. Here’s the deal - the Decepticons (bad guys) are in control of Cybertron. The Autobots (good guys) are exiled to a couple of moons and a city on Earth. At the beginning of the movie, the Autobots are preparing for a major assault against the Decepticons to reclaim Cybertron. The Decepticons get wind of the plot and choose to foil it by striking at the Autobots’ chief energy source - the city on Earth. All of this, of course, is done to weird techno-hair metal in the background. I honestly can’t describe it. The Autobots narrowly avoid complete destruction during the surprise attack, but not before losing their leader, Optimus Prime, who passes the “Matrix of Leadership” (I kid you not) to a successor. The good news, though, is that the Decepticon leader, Megatron, almost died as well.

Meanwhile, an Orson Welles-sized planet is eating other planets, a la The Doomsday Machine. While floating through space, Megatron was rescued by this doomsday machine, rebuilt, and given the task of destroying the Matrix of Leadership.

The rest of the movie rapidly deteriorates into a series of battles with strange, psychadelic, psychotic robots on numerous planets, all with a wonderfully numbing, excruciating, and exfoliating (you heard me) techno-hair metal-butt rock sound track lulling you into a false sense of incoherency. For whatever it may be worth, the good guys eventually win. You might want to know that.

Yeah… that’s all I have for now. Seriously, it has rendered me incongruent. No joke. The two points of my brain no longer connect. It’s quite unnerving.