Thursday, December 27, 2007

Avengers Assemble!

I find this list humbling and downright frightening:

Humbling, because clearly it proves, almost without question, the existence of an all-powerful and omniscient God.

How so, you ask?

Because, as I see it, there is no possible way that natural selection alone could have allowed for the sheer number of ass-masters and douche-bags out there to have survived without the help of Divine intervention. There's just no way.

See, a person is defined by their enemies. Well, look good and hard, boys and girls. Here they are. Our enemies. You think supervillains are nasty? Ha! The Green Goblin? Easy pickings. The Joker? He's a pussy. No, we've got Cheney and Bush, Chavez and Harper, and all sorts of drooling monstrosities in the wings. They fuck the Juggernaut in the ass for breakfast and piss on Doctor Doom's armour just for kicks. They made Galactus cry.

The solution is simple: we've all got to become superheroes.

It's what God wants.

Saturday, September 15, 2007

The Following May Contain Harsh Language

Fuck you, Wal-Mart. Fuck you, for not allowing me to return the umbrella I bought from you because I bought it four months ago instead of three. Because, obviously, replacing the defective product - one of the few I've ever returned - would have cut too deep into your bottom line. Better to piss of your loyal customer, because, let's face it, it's not like you'll miss me. One out of a billion. You wouldn't even notice.

Fuck you, drivers. Fuck you, guy who blocked my way out of Wal-mart, turning left into the entrance. You couldn't be bothered to stop a whole fucking 5 feet before the entrance to allow me a chance to get out. Because, God forbid you do something courteous. Fuck you, guy who turned left at the intersection with the sign which unambiguously specifies that you CANNOT TURN LEFT. Fuck you, drivers who ignore my turn signal. Fuck you, guys that cut me off, even though there's no traffic behind me, fuck you for cutting me off, and fuck you for then slowing down below the fucking speed limit. Fuck you, everyone who seems to get in my way JUST BECAUSE THEY CAN.

Fuck you, person who cut me off yesterday at the checkout line. You looked me in the eye, and you cut in front of me. Fuck you, every single person who takes something that DOES NOT BELONG TO THEM. You know who you are. You take shit that does not belong to you - a spot, a place in line, a prize, somebody's time - you take it and you know it does not belong to you. And you feel good about doing it, too, like it makes you special.

But it doesn't. It doesn't make you special at all. It makes you just another fucker.

I know, I know - not everyone in this world is an asshole intent on robbing me of my calm and mellow feelings.

But some days, I just shake my head and wonder.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Reality TV is the Opiate of the Masses

People of late seem to be deeply enamored of reality TV.

Survivor. American Idol. The Apprentice. Big Brother. An ever growing list of programs, with an ever-growing nigh-insatiable appetite for more.

And people don’t just enjoy watching these shows. They love to talk about them, at length. Speculating about them. Obsessing about them. It becomes a social imperative. A clique: those in the know. And if you’re not in the know, then you bear a form of social stigma. You are outside the elite. Stranded in ignorance. There is often pressure from your peers: repent your ways. Rejoin the fold, and all is forgiven. Join us.

Have you ever wondered why they call it ‘TV programming?’ An interesting choice of words. And each show a ‘program.’ A series of electrical signals carrying billions of discrete bits of information, carefully routed to your television set with a minimal amount of data loss, where it is reconstructed into very specific patterns of light. Light that enters through the eyes and directly into the brain.

There it is reconstructed back into electric signals, which race through the brain creating new patterns that no one sees, where they are interpreted on both the conscious and unconscious levels.

How difficult would it be to create a signal to program the neural pathways, the same way we program a piece of computer software? Or a piece of hardware, for that matter? The brain is merely a wetware CPU. It may be far more complex than a CPU, but there are certain fundamentals that likely apply to both.

Subliminal messages are known to have been attempted many times in the past, and no doubt this practice continues into the present. This is no more than the attempt to bypass the conscious mind directly, and plant a specific idea into a person’s subconscious. Perhaps a thought that they never would have had on their own. Or perhaps a specific desire.

What if you could program a person like a machine? Simply send the right set of electronic signals to be interpreted by their mind, bypassing their conscious thoughts and awareness entirely?

What if this has already been achieved?

When people talk to each other, they are not dissimilar to programs interfacing, sharing information. Human language is a relatively inefficient and slow means of communication, especially when compared to the electron-quick language of machines. It can take a remarkable amount of time to convey a relatively simple series of information packets from one person to another,

Unless, of course, the human voice is used as merely a carrier wave. On the surface, we would have sound waves of meaningless small talk and chatter, while underneath it all is the true signal. The true data being exchanged. We can have programs interchanging crucial pieces of data, with minimal integrity loss, while the biological machines that bear them to and fro remain blissfully unaware.

Wasn’t last night’s episode amazing?

Happy little automatons, passing the time with idle chatter and passive entertainment, unknowingly programming others and being programmed. Spreading the Word across the globe. The Will of the Program be done.

And for those that have not heard the Word?

Resistance…is futile.

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

On Evolution

It seems to me that a great many people seem to operate under the belief that evolution tends toward greater intelligence - an extension of the concept that something more evolved is, by definition, better.

This is a fallacious view. The theory of evolution merely states that a species will eventually adapt to its environment – or die out. Those life forms that are ill-equipped for a specific environment will not procreate to the extent of those that are well-equipped - for that environment. Therefore, a species will naturally tend, over time, to a physical model that is more conducive to its habitat.

This says nothing at all about intelligence, much less 'superiority'. The member of the species that is least likely to reproduce in one environment may be more likely in another. If the environment changes drastically, which does occur from time to time, those that are the 'most fit' may become the 'least fit', practically overnight. This is why species die out – because the change in the environment is greater than a species’ ability to adapt to the change before the mortality rate reaches the point of no return.

What’s more, there is the (extremely homo-sapiens-centric) viewpoint that humans are the ultimate in evolution, and therefore evolution has stopped, because, well, it’s done. Mission accomplished. We have achieved perfection!

This is, of course, completely ludicrous.

I recall reading an article recently proclaiming something along the lines of "Scientists claim that evolution continues in humans!" As if this was not self-evidently obvious, and supportable from existing scientific theories. As if this were almost unthinkable. For all the claims of open-mindedness and the (rightful) repudiation of so-called theories involving the inherit superiority of one race over another, most humans still labour under the delusion that humans are at the apex of evolution. That we are the most superior. The most evolved.

Technically, the cockroach is likely the most evolved creature on Earth. Certainly it predates humanity by a very large margin of years, and has survived, virtually unchanged, for millennia. So there you have it – the perfect life form. The most adaptable. The most fit. Feel free to model yourself after it accordingly. Try not to eat too much garbage.

I sometimes fear that our current environment is conducive to breeding individuals without curiosity, intelligence, imagination, or self-awareness on a level beyond that of a reasonably unintelligent monkey. Natural selection now appears to favour the lowest common denominator. I see a world of reality TV shows in place of intelligent writing, and infotainment in place of investigative journalism. A world in which superficiality rules and critical thinking is passé. A world of fart jokes and fake dog shit.

On certain dark days, I very much feel that I am one of a dying species . On occasion, I sympathize with the dinosaurs - the last ones, those that wandered around looking in vain for another member of its own kind. But then again, they did have 21 million years of good times.

Fuck 'em.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

"Is this good for the gene pool?"

It has been some time since I have read something so breathlessly egotistical and narcissistic as the recent MSNBC article on Internet Dating.

Tucker Carlson, an MSNBC News anchor, talks to the publisher of Online Dating Magazine about the (apparently) disturbing trend of people of similar natures meeting each other online. Here is an excerpt:

TRACY: Oh, yes. These “Star Trek” people. I mean, you know, these are serious, devoted fans. And you know, there's people who own pets, and the pets are like a son or daughter to them. And the pet must love another person. So you know, There they are.

CARLSON: Is this good for the gene pool? I mean, is it good for us to be facilitating meetings between these people? Or should we fling open the genetic windows and let some fresh air in?

TRACY: Let's do both.

CARLSON: Let's do both. I mean, look, if one Trekkie can very easily find another Trekkie, the odds they'll produce a further generation of Trekkies is very high, and is that in the national interest, I guess, is my question?

Now, just for a personal 'fun' exercise, replace the word 'Trekkie' with the ethnicity of your choice. Any one will do. Then re-read this paragraph.

But let's not blow this out of proportion, shall we? After all, they're just Trekkies. I mean, who knows what kinds of disgusting things they get up to behind closed doors, in secret. The fewer the better, right? We don't want them taking our jobs, or interacting with our children. And besides, they smell.

But not to be outdone by himself, Carlson continues on about about asexual people trying to meet each other online:

CARLSON: So do most people tell the truth? Actually, I was on a site today, preparing for this segment, for people who are asexual. I was surprised. I'm not mocking anyone. But I was surprised that asexuals were also looking for love of a sort, I guess?

TRACY: Oh, yes. I mean, they're everywhere. is an example of people who want to be in platonic—platonic relationships.

CARLSON: Boy, that was sad.

Well, thank God he's not mocking anyone. I can practically smell the tolerance.

Yes, the 21st century is truly a wonderful and enlightened place to be.

You can read the full article here:

Tuesday, February 14, 2006


Ah, Valentine’s Day is upon us at last. You can practically smell the joy in the air.

Or is it really joy that I smell? It’s so difficult to tell some days.

Now, don’t forget to buy those flowers for your loved one. She’ll love you for it!

Oh, don’t pick those. Do you want her to think you’re cheap? No no no, that will not do. Buy those over there. You know, the ones that cost about the same as a car tune up? Better yet, the ones that cost as much as a new DVD player. Yes, those ones. That’s it. There you are.

Oh, but you are getting her a card, aren’t you? Of course you are. Something that tells her how much she means to you, how important she is in your life, how you would be lost without her – all encapsulated in five brief lines (or less!) of banal prose. Don’t be stingy, mind you! Get the big one, with bright pink flowers and shiny embossed letters. This is the love of your life we’re talking about.

But you’re not just getting her a card and flowers, are you? How tacky! Is that all she means to you? You know what she’s expecting, don’t you? Come on, don’t make me say it. You know what to get her. She’s been hinting about it all year. Something nice. Something that sparkles! Something that’s classy. Something that’s expensive. Real expensive. The more expensive, the better!

Money equals love, don’t you know? The more you love her, the more you must spend to show it. Don’t you know how much her girlfriend’s significant others spent on them? Do you care for her so little? What’s more important, her or a little money? What’s mere wealth compared to the purity of what you two have together? What do you mean, you can’t afford it? You have a credit card, don’t you? Just charge it! The bill won’t even come for another month.

Spend, spend, spend!

After all – how else will she know that you really care?

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Everything is real on TV

The universe is a strange place sometimes.

On one hand, you have people who think they know what's best for you, telling you who you are, and what you are supposed to be doing.

They tell you what toothpaste to use, what moisturizer will make you look 25 years younger, the TV show that will heal your ulcers, the magic football jersey that will make the women love you, the beer that will make you a man. They'll sell you your soul back to you, for the low, low price of $29.95 (per month, not including shipping and handling).

On the other hand, you have people who think they know who you are, and tell you what you have been doing wrong.

They tell you how you can never get ahead, how it was a waste of time to take that challenging job, how unlikely it is that you'll reach your goals, what a mistake it was to try that new hairdo, how ugly that new watch you bought is. Conform. Be like us. Give up hope. Lower your expectations. Watch Friends. Drink Miller Light. Eat Frito Lays. Don't try anything different. Don't be different. Different is scary. Different is dangerous. Remember: we are all individuals! As long as no one rocks the boat.

Talk about Britney Spears.

"Isn't her behaviour outrageous? And Brad Pitt. What a cad, huh? What do you mean, I don't know him? I see him every day - in the papers. How about those wacky twins who used to be on Full House? Didn't their parents raise them any better? My kids? What about them? They're at the mall...I think.


What war?

Is there a war going on? Gosh, I hate those.

Is someone starving? Don't talk to me about that. I don't want to hear about it. There's nothing I can do about it anyway.

What's on TV? Can you believe what happened last week?

I think there's supposed a new Survivor on tonight! I wonder who'll get kicked off this time?

What do you mean it's not real? Of course it's real! It's on TV."

Everything is real on TV.