Happy Freaking Christmas

I remember back when I was little, and Xmas was my favourite time of year. I loved everything about the season, from the weather to the presents. Everywhere I looked, it seemed as if people were happy and smiling; everyone in a good mood and glad to be celebrating the season by shopping for others. Gifting was a wonderful experience, filled with fun and excitement, from getting to receiving.

Things aren't like that anymore.

I know it doesn't say much, seeing as I hate most things in this world, but I've really grown to dislike Christmas. I don't see smiling faces anymore. I don't see people happy to be giving. I don't see courtesy or generosity or... anything happy and love-filled. I see bitter people, angry at each other, running around and trying to spend as much money as they can before throwing gifts of no thought under a dead tree. I see stress building in everyone during a time that people are supposed to be full of love and compassion.

I don't see much of anything that used to make Christmas in today. But then, I'm no better. I have adopted hate as a method of escape, instead of trying to fix it. It's easier this way.

My New Email

My school recently issued new email addresses and user ID's to everyone. I was pretty excited, because like everything else I use on the net, our new emails were to be powered by Google [insert cheer here]. But, like most things created by people I have no influence over, it turned out to be quite a disappointment.

You would think that, given the fact that it is a school ID and most likely to be used for the next four years for everything from casual emails to job interviews, they would customize it to your name. That's what they did with our former "lonestar" accounts. Mine was jmitchen@lonestar.utsa.edu. Makes sense, right? "jmitchen" is clearly the first letter of my first name, and then the next seven letters of my last name. I would prefer "mitchener", but perhaps they had an 8 letter limit. I settled.

My new UTSA ID is "zai618". Must I comment on how stupid this is?

Then I thought: "Well hey, maybe the tag sucks, but it's a Google account, right? I can at least tie all my Google stuff to my new UTSA email, even stick a Gmail shortcut on my Google Homepage. Wrong. Apparantly, even though this new email is a UTSA account, Gmail is something different. My account is simply "powered by Google." So though it looks like a Gmail account, operates as a Gmail account, and even has all the same features as a Gmail account, it's not quite Gmail.

I really don't like stupid people, and clearly, they were the only ones in charge of setting up this system of UTSA email.

Mummificiation

As you all know, I'm a big fan of the whole immortality thing. Living forever is a big deal- so big, in fact, that people have been trying to find ways to do it since before time was time. Why else do you think we invented religion? But that's not what I'm here to talk about. No, I've decided that when I die (because it's inevitable... at least in my generation), I am going to be mummified.

I've put a lot of thought into this, and no, I cannot be dissuaded. Think about about it. How many funerals have you been to in which you saw a man being encased in bandages, then placed inside a golden sarcophagus? Yea, that's what I thought, not a single one. Well, mine will be your first! And yes, you are invited. In fact, everyone is invited.

See, I figure that if I can't live forever through never dying, I might as well die in a way that will make me remembered forever. In 10,000 years, someone will dig me up and go "Holy shit, we found a mummy!" and sure enough, I'll go to a museum where I'll be on display and everyone will be marveling at how amazing I am.

So, really, there's no losing in this situation. I get a fantastic funeral, I get to be encased in gold, I get to be discovered, and everyone has to look at my ugly semi-decayed body for all of eternity. I'm pumped.

What We Still Don't Have

Why the fuck aren't there flying cars? I'm sorry for using such harsh language, but it is driving me crazy here! I mean, I'm an adult of the twenty first century; so why the hell don't I own a flying car? I could have sworn that the world of technology promised us that! Look at the Jetsons- they were zipping all over their place in their houses in the clouds, they robotic maids, and their flying cars. Why don't I have any of those?

I get it; flying cars just aren't efficient enough to make them worth the money to develop. Fuck efficiency! Isn't this America? Isn't this the country that prides its self on spending too much money on everything, just because it can? Isn't this the country that said "screw the war, I'm driving an SUV because I'M AN AMERICAN!" So why don't American's have as much balls when it comes to flying?

You know, I probably wouldn't be as pissed if we had other crazy cool shit, like genetic engineering or biotic implants. I'd be fine with not having flying cars if I could just upload all my schooling straight into my brain instead of going to class every day. But no, we don't have that, and we don't have cars that can fly.

You know what, World? If you're gonna be a bitch like this, at least give me a robot to chill with.

Haven't Forgotten!

Surprisingly, I haven't forgotten to post! It's exam week this week, so I'm extremely busy. I'll be creative on Monday (and perhaps this weekend if I am not bogged down with work). See you then!

Ways not to Die

Death is looked upon with many different faces. A lot of people prepare for it, expect it, and when the time finally comes, embrace it. Others fear it, run from it, and do all they can to prolong the inevitable. I happen to fall in the middle of these two extremes. See, I don't want to die. If it were up to me, I would drink from the Elixir of Life and become immortal. But, seeing as that's not an option, I have accepted that death can't be avoided, and I will simply meet my end whenever it chooses to happen. Still, there are some ways that I just don't want to go.

On that note, here are my top 5 ways not to die:

Five: Nuclear Fallout; more specifically, being on the edge of a nuclear blast, and being thrown into an ocean where you would drown. Think about it. Your eyes would melt inside your head from the intense heat of the blast, and when the shock wave hit you, assuming you lived, you would be thrust out into salt water covered from head-to-foot in radioactive burns. No thanks.

Four: Being very slowly crushed to death, perhaps by a steamroller, starting at your feet and working up your body. The pain would be excruciating.

Three: Burned to death by fire. I don't like fire. I don't even like hot water that much. When you burn your hand on the oven, that shit hurts for weeks! Can you imagine dying from that?!

Two: Falling into acid. A giant pool of acid. Imagine the burns! At least with fire, you burn the nerves off by the intense heat. Acid would just eat you away until you are literally nothing. Piece by piece, you would deteriorate. No thanks again.

One: Being pulled into the vacuum of space. There is a lot of false information out there about the vacuum of space, and how one would die, so allow me to clear it up for you. This is what would happen: The skin on your body would begin to expand, but it would not explode. If you are fortunate enough to scream, then your lungs will be emptied, and your chest cavity will not expand to the point of severe damage. If you aren't, then your lungs would inflate slowly until they exploded within your chest. The saliva on your tongue would evaporate due to the vacuum of space, but because your body does not lose heat or pressure instantly, your blood would remain in its liquid state for about 90 seconds. You would stay conscious for about 30 seconds, until your brain became deprived of oxygen, all the while having your muscles tighten and become completely useless. Then, you would pass out, and individual cells would expand and explode, slowly killing you over the next 60 seconds.

So, I'm fine with death, so long as I don't have to go in any of the above ways... or a couple of others.

'Tis that Season

I can't help it, but every December that rolls around, I find myself becoming increasingly angry at God. It's a shame, because from an indirect point of view, it's not even his fault. You see, it's not God that I'm really mad at, but all those people who believe it's their duty to take religion and make people pay for it. It kills me a little inside every time I see it happen. Things aren't helped at all by the season either, for you see, it is almost Christmas, and this is when God (or at least his son), gets the star of popularity.

There are a number of things about this season that just infuriate me. First off, am I still allowed to call it Christmas, or is the Holiday Season? Do I say 'Happy Holidays!' or 'Happy Christmas!'? Not being religious, it makes things even more complicated. I realize that X-mas only exists because the Son of God was born (a topic of argument for another day), but the holiday has become so commercialized that I don't even feel like God has anything to do with it anymore. So, I say "Happy Holidays!", up until X-mas day, on which I say "Happy Christmas!".

The worst Holiday experience of my life was two years ago on New Years Eve. It snowed, in Katy, Texas, a miracle on its own. Why? Well, I credit it to my going to Church for the first time in my life. Don't get me wrong, I've been to many religious activities; I even went to a catholic school for two years of my life. That's why I'm an atheist. But, two years ago, I walked into a church at the request of my best friend to hear the Christmas Eve mass. What a mistake that was. All was well for the first fifteen minutes, up until the giant projection screens rolled down from the roof and the corporate Target logo appeared on the screen. I kid you not, this is what happened. A commercial for Target played at a Christmas Eve mass. A woman was walking around the shop (a woman who went to this church) and she was picking up items looking at them, and commenting on their great value and how much money could be saved at target. Then she said: "I believe, if Jesus were alive now, he would continue the gift of giving by shopping at places like this."

I died a little inside right then and there.

But then, who am I to say what's right and what's wrong when the government of the United States declares that children can't have "Christmas Parties" because of the separation of Church and State, and yet Homosexuals can't get married to one another because "The Bible says it's wrong!"

What About Freedom?

America really isn't all that different from most other countries. Americans pride themselves on being unique, on living in a country that is clearly so much better than any other, but really, what's so different? The right to vote? The ability to choose your own religion? Having a government that listens to you?

Recently, I haven't noticed any of these things. If anything, the greatest quality of individuality that America has is their belief that their country is in fact different from all others. There are many different governments scattered across our planet, and many different religions. In most other countries, people know what's allowed, and what isn't. If they don't know what's allowed, they know they are being lied to. American's seem to lack either of these viewpoints.

American's seem to hold a high value in their openness to other religions. This clearly is not the case. Just muttering the word "Muslim" in casual conversation causes memories to rise and ignorance to well up in the chests of the arrogant. As far as the classic American is concerned, there is only one religion worth believing, and that is his own. Without understanding, there can be no acceptance, and with out acceptance, there will be nothing but hate.

But religious freedom extends so much further than that, doesn't it? From the forming of this country, there was a promise of Separation of Church and State. God's hands would not touch the world of government, nor would he shape our decisions, for fear of upsetting those with different belief. An idea of understanding and acceptance, tossed to the wind in favour of ignorance and control. How can a country claim to be open to all religions when even their dollar bill, an item that even the poorest of American's hold dear, has printed upon it "In God We Trust"? How can a country be open to all religions when its leader, it's roll model for all its people, has each of his speeches riddled with comments about God, quotes from the Bible, and a clearly blind belief in Christianity as the only true religion?

No, America is far from the Land of the Free. The only difference America has from country's that openly suppress the beliefs of others is this: In those country's, people know to keep their mouths shut. Here, people still believe they have a say in the matter.

The Magisterium

I was fortunate enough to catch the sneak preview of The Golden Compass today. For those of you who haven't read the book, I strongly recommend you go and see it. It is a fun filled, action packed adrenaline thrill ride in which humans kill humans, witches kill humans, and bears kill humans- and at one point, other bears. For those of you who have read the books, let me forewarn you before you enter that theatre: The ending you read is not what you should expect. Instead, expect it to end 30 pages before that on a balloon floating to Asriel's house above Svalbard.

The best part about this movie, however, was not what appeared on screen. Far from it, I'm afraid. The most riveting part of the experience was all of the anger flooding from the Christian church bitching about how this movie is Anti-God. I have a couple of things to say in this field:

First, if you think this movie is Anti-God, you clearly haven't watched it, or read any of the books. If anything, it is Anti-Dictatorship. The religion in question is one called The Magisterium, and it has nothing to do with organized religion today. If anything, it's more like religion of the Middle Ages, in which heresy was a crime punishable by death.

Second, if you think this movie is bad, wait until the third one. For those who don't know- the Authority (God) is in for a tough ride in the future. So Church: pick your battles. This movie is a joke compared to what's about to come. If you are some how relating the Authority to your God, which might I add is a terrible misunderstanding given the fact that The Authority is simply a being of pure Original Sin, I would suggest fighting hard against the release of The Amber Spyglass. Why? That bitch is gonna die!

Those of you who don't have a stick up your ass, however, go see The Golden Compass. It has a strong cast and a great story. If I were you, however, I wouldn't take this movie as an opportunity to pass up the book. There is no doubt that this film is simply the tip of the iceberg. This book is great for all readers, so pick it up, give it a shot, and let me know how you feel about it!

Yea, Yea...

I know, I have been slacking off. I'm sorry. But that's not what's important here. What's important is this:

Blogger has changed the format of inputting blogs, and it is scary. I noticed it last time I wrote a blog, which as many of you have so kindly pointed out, was about a decade ago. But that in its self is off topic. I am here to bitch about this new input system.

Problem 1:
I can no longer copy/paste my short stories into the blogger network. For some reason, it no longer reads text from my word documents. I have to go some round-about way of inputting new stories, and seeing as I have edited my earlier two shorts, it seems a shame that I am unable to re-input them to the blogger site.

Problem 2:
You're ugly, and it makes me angry

Problem 3:
Blogger has changed the text font for inputting to Courier New. Normally, I would be alright with this, but for some reason I don't enjoy it when I'm blogging. I think it reminds me too much of my manuscripts that I still haven't sent off to be published. Who knows?

Problem 4:
I'm a lazy bastard, and I don't want to have to come up with solutions for all these problems!

Solutions wanted. If you know of anything, fill me in. Also, sorry for not blogging for "a decade". I have had a lot to do- it's a rough end to the semester. See you tomorrow, hopefully.

That's Just Not Pleasant

Smelling is a wonderful. It rivals our ability to see, giving us a clearer understanding of the world through a perception some animals are entirely lacking. Though our ability to smell isn't the greatest of the animal species, it is still something to be proud of. We can, for example, tell the difference between strawberry shortcake and a bowl of garlic, which can be very useful when hunting for desert. But with all great abilities, there is always great consequence. There are some things in this world that make us wish that we suffered from anosmia (the lack of sensory receptors, or the functioning of said receptors, in the nasal canal).

I know that most of you have already thought of the main one: human waste. But I think this field of disgust extends far beyond humanity. Most animal waste is equally as awful, and in many cases, far more common. For example, dogs like to piss on carpet. It's easy for them. They can spread their legs, lock into position, and then turn on the fountain. The problem with this is that no matter what you do, that smell just does not come out of the floor. It stays in there for months, festering and growing into something else; something terrible.

But what about the smell of death? For those of you who have been unfortunate enough to experience such a thing, death is easily the most horrible smell that exists. Decomposition is disgusting, and there is absolutely nothing about it that's appealing to anyone anywhere. Even most serial killers admit to dumping bodies before human decomp kicks in, just because the odour is so terrible. It's the same with animals. When a pet dies, that thing starts stinking within an hour or two. That smell, without even touching anything but the ground it collapsed on, manages to infest everything around it, clinging to fabric, brick, tile, wood; everything.

There are many more, such as skunk, dump trucks, animal fat, gasoline, landfill sights, mold, duck, etc., but none of them are as bad as the above. If you can think of anything else that rivals death or shit, please, share. I would like to know what to avoid.

It... Was... EVERYWHERE!

Never before, in my entire life, have I witnessed an event as unbelievable as this one. It was like something out a science-fiction story, in which a tiny three inch tall ball of fur manages to eat an elephant in one bite. Of course, in this situation, it was the reverse.

My dog, Black Hayate, who is a 16 inch tall Alaskan Klee Kai escaped from his cage for a period of three hours in which I was not at the apartment. In that time, he managed to somehow release seven times his bodyweight in fecal matter. It was everywhere! I've never, in all my life, seen so much shit scattered... everywhere! I turned to the living room, looked at the floor, looked at the dog, looked at the floor, looked at the dog, and then just sat down in awe. I wasn't even mad. There was shit everywhere! The rug was covered in it, the carpet had it scattered all over the place, the couch had smeared patches here and there, there was urine stains all over the place, and even Hayate had managed to walk through some of it and leave a trail to all the places he'd visited.

It was amazing. I don't much enjoy taking the tone of a moralist, but here's one I simply can't avoid: Make sure to keep your problems caged, or else before you know it, there'll be shit everywhere!

Stupid Light

I have a class, Shakespeare: The Later Plays, that gets out at 18:45. Usually, that's not a big deal. I get out of class, and then get to walk home in the cool evening air with the sun casually moving closer to the horizon. It's actually one of my favourite classes to get out of, regardless of the fact that it is my least favourite class to actually attend.

So, Monday started off like any normal Monday. I went to class, sat in Shakespeare and fought that incredible urge to take a nap while my monotoned professor droned on about how someone did something to someone to prove something to someone else. Then, class ended, and I walked up the stairs and out into... darkness.

I stood there for several seconds, blocking the door, and silently mouthed the words "what the fuck?" to myself. After several shoves, I walked out into the pitch-black night of early winter, marveling at how in five days, my walk home had gone from a bright and sunny experience, to one of total darkness.

I whipped out my phone and made a couple phone calls. No one answerred. It was at this moment, enveloped in total darkness, that I began wondering exactly the same thing that you are most likely wondering right now: "Did the sun explode while I was learning, and everyone on the planet's surface was killed?"

No.

But it was a scary thought. Apparently, daylight savings had happened, and all my clocks had simply readjusted themselves without informing me. Thanks, technology. It's a shame really. I was sort of excited about the end of the world.

My First Desire for Murder

First off: I'm sorry for taking so long to write another blog. It seems that this is a far more difficult than I originally expected, but not because of a lack of ideas, simply because of time constraints and the insanity of my day-to-day life. Still, I am back from my parent's house, and am now ready to begin blogging once again.

Today, I want to talk about that incredible urge one gets to kill something. Now, I know that for some of you, this feeling may have never actually arisen. I also realize that many of you fully believe it has, but when push comes to shove, you would never actually be able to kill the person or thing in question. I was one of these people up until about two weeks ago.

My target is a puppy. Yes, I know, a cute innocent little puppy. Wrong. He's the least intelligent creature on the planet, and it needs to be terminated immediately. He is a yelper. For those who don't know what a yelper is, it's a dog with a super high-pitched voice that splits into your brain every single time it lets out a call. It also chews everything, and no matter how much you try to train it otherwise, it always shits and pisses all over the house. Here is the culprit.



So why do I want to kill him? I don't know. I've never had this desire before, but with Jude, it is unavoidable. Last night, I even dreamed that I drowned him in a vat of marmalade. Why marmalade? Beats me- all I know is the pup was dead and I was happy. Shame it was only a dream...

So, what about you- what have you wanted to murder without reason?

No Mac for Me

Yesterday, my blog was posted using a MAC PC. I don't know what you call a MAC PC, but the laptops are macbooks and ibooks and other strange stuff like that. I'm assuming it's something crazy like that- maybe macscreen or itower. I could Google it, but that would be showing an interest, which would completely counterbalance this entire post. What I'm really trying to get at is this: I don't like Apple computers.

The best part about that statement is the series of reactions that just followed. See, people who use Apple computers are a bit like a religious cult. They are clearly the minority, but they believe there are a lot more people out there just like them, when really, there aren't. I can pretty much guarantee that the second I said "I don't like Apple computers", all the Apple users out there said together: "Well, you're an idiot!"

Wrong Apple users. But then, you are using an Apple computer, so being wrong must be something you're used to by now. I'm sorry, I'm getting off topic. Allow me to explain myself. First of all, Apple and Microsoft are the same company, headed by the same honcho. So why make them so different? I know that Apple's tend to be computers for idiots, and then there are those people who love video editing (the only reason I see someone getting an Apple), but why do regular people buy them? Well, they are great if you have no f-ing clue what you are doing. I mean, everything the computer can do is on the desktop, the mouse only has one button, and all the programmes are super basic.

So I guess the reason I don't like them is because I'm not stupid. I like complicated stuff, and I like to be able to break everything down to the last bit, then rebuild it into a new file. I bet you can't do that, Mr. Apple Owner. So, let me throw that previous statement you made back in your face: Who's the idiot now?

You're Funny Looking

A lot of people frown upon looking down on others for being different. I am not one of those people. If you are different in any way at all, and I notice it, chances are good I'll let out a silent chuckle. That's if I'm feeling courteous. If not, you'll probably see me wiping the tears from my eyes as I holler in laughter. There are a lot of people out there that throw this situation on themselves. For example, people who do too much cocaine: Hilarious! That thing that happens to your nose when you've snorted a metric ton of happy-snow, it pleases me. My favourites, though, are the people who were simply born to amuse me.

Allow me to pain you a picture with the artistic styling of my imagination, so that you can laugh along with me. Imagine, for example, the phantom in Phantom of the Opera. Those who have seen it, in either the theatre or on DVD, know that when he removes his mask, his face looks like he is a burn victim. That's not funny. Stop laughing. Fire isn't funny, it hurts. No, what would be funny is this: Imagine that when he first revealed his face, instead of there being burnt skin all across his right side, he looked completely normal in all ways but one; one of his eyes was huge, and the other was extremely small. See, now that's funny.

Another amusing problem can be found in a small percentage of the male population... and in rare cases, the female population. I love it when someone cannot grow facial hair but in isolated patches, and yet they still try to grow a beard. They end up looking like an army of tiny rodents died on their skin. It is hilarious. It's also great when they can only grow three or four hairs, and instead of shaving them, they let them grow. I always want to pluck them. It tickles me.

All-in-all, differences amuse me. And no, I don't feel bad about it, and neither should you. Unless you're ugly.

Indicating is the Key

I was recently discussing with a friend the terrible drivers that seem to spawn on all the roads where I live. As credit to this source, and because it will make him happy, I would like to give you his first name: Andrew. See, Andrew and I were discussing the inability of people to signal before they change lanes. It seems to be a growing epidemic as more and more people are consumed by this inability to flip their indicator into whichever direction they are turning.

This lead to the following conversation:

Andrew: So have I told you my theory on how to stop the War in Iraq?

James: No, I don't believe so.

Andrew: Well, you're in for a treat. See, it all comes down to turn signals-

James: OK...

Andrew: See, signaling is a pre-warning sign of your future actions. It lets people know exactly what you are going to do so you can prepare for it. It's a matter of common courtesy, and we do it not because it makes our driving experience easier, but the driving experiences of others. See, if we were all to signal, it would mean that we cared about other people, and realized that our actions influenced all of those around us. If we realized that our actions influences other people, then we would be listening to popular demand instead of caring so much about our ego's, and we wouldn't be in Iraq.

James: Andrew... that's so stupid it's almost genius.

Andrew: Thank you.

Pretty clever, huh? I know, I like to surround myself with people who give me something to think about. This clearly did its job, and now I'm sharing it with you. Now, if only there was a way to make people signal...


Oh, don't forget to check out this months short: http://mitchenerchronicles.blogspot.com

The Dollar

The U.S. Dollar was, as of several days ago, worth less than the Canadian dollar by more than a penny. This is news that just fills me with fear, and yet, when I talk to my American friends, no one seems to give a rats ass. As an Englishman living in America who has also lived all over the world, I have a natural understanding of what this can do to my money whenever I travel. By extension, I pretty much immediately noted the future problems this will have with the world trade market. Apparently, I'm the only one.

It took me several days to figure out what was going on with my friends. I tried explaining the situation to them, pointing out how America is basically losing its balance on the tightrope right now, but still, they didn't care. For those of you who are well traveled, or have understanding of the global market, you are probably thinking about the long-term effects just as I am. Why aren't my friends, or for that matter, 99.9% of the American population?

Because they are Americans! See, if this were to happen anywhere else in the world, the country would be throwing a shit-storm. They would be in serious trouble with the world trade market, their investments wouldn't be worth nearly as much as they were, and their own pockets would shrinking. Americans don't see it that way. To Americans, this dollar issue isn't even an issue. They don't care about the rest of the world one bit! To them, everything they'll ever need, ever, is right here within their own borders. They are so sure that they don't need anyone else in the world to survive that they see this little dollar issue as hardly a blip on the radar. Who cares if the dollar depreciates in value? It's not going to change anything! This is America! -- !

If only me ego were that large... the list of things that I would pretend didn't affect me would be endless.

The Best Fight Ever

I want you to think for a minute. Sit there and think. I know that for some people, that's a rather demanding request, so I'm going to give you a prompt. I want you to think about it for a while, and then read on. Here's the question: Who would you most want to fight in the next world war? Who would be the best enemy for you to battle against?

I've put a lot of thought into this, and up until a few weeks ago, I would have said "an Alien race similar to the 'buggers' in Ender's Game; mainly because of the Hive Mind concept of combat." I have since changed my mind. Don't get me wrong, that would be a fantastic war, one which I would suspect we would lose unless we could find someone as amazing as Ender Wiggin in our midst. I like the idea so much of fighting aliens that I am not even removing it from the list of future wars. I am simply pushing it back, so that this war comes before it. What war is better than the Alien war? The Zombie War.

Just think about it. Could it ever get any better? I mean, we'd be fighting the re-animated corpses of humans! So, naturally, we would be semi-familiar with their structure, know where their weak points are, what to attack; but at the same time, we would be fighting a different species. Zombies aren't human, no matter how you look at it. They are dead, and as we all know, you can't get in trouble for killing something that's already dead. Technically, that's impossible.

Really, the only thing I can say about the Zombie war is this: If it starts, and you've turned, I won't think twice about blowing you to bits. I'll see you when it's all over... if you make it.

Walking Alone

The Mitchener Chronicles now has its newest installment. It's rather depressing, but I am trying my hand at Tragic Irony. I hope you enjoy it, regardless of the rather dark theme.

http://mitchenerchronicles.blogspot.com

Condom Loophole

Now, I know I've already done a blog on satisfaction guarantee's, but this one needs its own page entirely. I was looking through my drawers for a pen when I stumbled across a box of condom's I bought the other week. The box was unopened and unused, accumulating it's fair amount of dust (I have a very eventful sex life apparently), but I believe that one should always be prepared. That and unsafe sex is just not cool. For anyone. Ever. But I'm getting off topic. The Point I am trying to make is this: the condom box read, in the top left corner, "100% Satisfaction Guarantee".

At first, I just sort of shrugged it off, but when my brain started doing its usual tactic of thinking about things that I don't really care about, I started to question the guarantee. When this became a bit of a mystery, my conscious thoughts took over and I began to analyze the situation. The way I see it, there are two possibilities here. Either (a) the condom company is guaranteeing you will have a pleasurable experience, or (b) the condom company is guaranteeing their condom will work as stated, which in some ways includes part (a).

I really hope it's (a). Just think about the absolutely flawless loophole they have created here. I can almost picture the court case now.

Judge: Mr. Bryant, you are suing the condom company "Durex" for the amount of $100,000,000 for not fulfilling their guarantee?

Mr. Bryant: That is correct, Your Honour.

[...]

Defense Attorney: Mr. Bryant, is it not possible that the reason you were not satisfied is because you are a terrible lover?

Mr. Bryant: Well... no... I mean-

Defense Attorney: Mr. Bryant, you are under oath.

Mr. Bryant: Well, I suppose, maybe, it's a possibility...

Defense Attorney: No further questions Your Honour.

It's beautiful, isn't it? Durex could never, ever, get in trouble for this. Whenever someone complained, they could always claim that person is just terrible in bed. If, somehow, that person can prove they aren't terrible in the sack, then all Durex has to do is shift the blame onto the other member of the sexual incursion. Priceless.

I want that job when I'm older, being the guy who comes up with guarantee's that mean absolutely nothing.

Sucks to be Gorilla's

It must be terrible being a gorilla. Let's think about this for a second, alright? Gorilla's missed the genetic leap to greatness by something between .01% and .02% genetic difference. How much must that shit suck?! There is absolutely no way they had any say in this decision what-so-ever. I mean, of all the species of animals in the world, gorilla's just have it the worst. At least with other animals, they don't even come close to being as amazing as us, but gorilla's... well, it's sort of one of those "FUCK YOU GOD!!!" situations... from the gorilla's point-of-view.

If there is a God, I think this is just the final proof that he's an asshole. Who would do that to an animal? Bring them within inches of Shakespeare, Mozart, Monet, and Carrot Top; then just take it all away because of two stupid chromosomes?! Who would do that?

No wonder gorilla's are so damn dangerous. If I were a giant hulking bunch of muscles which came .01% away from the human genetic code, I'd be super pissed as well. Every time I saw a human, I'd want to crush his puny little head in, just to show him that "hey, you may have brains, but look at my muscles!" Then I would go cry in the grass because I was too stupid to build a house.

The worst thing we do to gorilla's, though, is when we teach them sign language. It's like kicking someone when they're down. They don't really understand it, but they recognize patterns and the effects of those patterns. So in the vaguest form of the word, they can communicate. It's like saying "look at what you could a-a-a-almost do."

I'm sorry gorilla's; but it's great being human.

Have You Voted?

The voting conversation always manages to amuse me, even though it always begins and ends exactly the same way. It's as if everyone time someone asks me the fabled question of "have you voted yet?", it has suddenly become my birthday and someone has just bought me my own personal space ship and a vile of immortality juice. Seriously, I get that excited.

It happened yesterday when I was coming out of Abnormal Psychology. A girl was handing out fliers about voting for someone, and apparently, I come off as a person who gives a shit. So, like a cruise missile with only one target, the woman comes walking right up to me and shoves a flier into my chest. "Vote for so and so!" she says.

Being the gentleman I am, I take the flier, pretend to read it while noting the very interesting colour and pattern scheme used to attract the idiots, and then look back up to her fake-smiling face and say calmly "I don't vote."

Had I not been in a public setting, I think she would have killed me then and there. I'm assuming she had heard that excuse a lot today, and it was really starting to piss her off. She exploded, yelling at me in a hushed rage: "You need to vote! This country is built on the choices of the people, and if you don't take an interest, we're going to be stuck with some idiot making all of our decisions! And who will be to blame? People like you, who didn't take the half-hour needed to go and cast a vote! This is America!"

That was my cue. Time for me to act! "I'm not American," I said, calmly, though inside my body was just bubbling with joy.

"Well, you're going to school here, so you're a citizen right!"

"Nope. I'm a permanent resident. I can't vote."

She stared at me silently for several seconds. Then, extremely embarrassed, she apologized for her rude outbreak and started blushing. I didn't say it was O.K. That would be counterproductive. Instead, I smiled happily at my perfectly played trump card, and went on my merry way.

Oh, and by-the-way, I wouldn't vote even if I could.

A... Friend?... in Need of Help

I wrote this essay, if it can even be described as such, for Abnormal Psychology. We were asked to pick a television character who suffers with some form of mental illness. Naturally, everyone in the class handed in papers about Monk and House. I chose a different route.

Here's what I wrote:

There are many people out in the world who suffer from depression. Most of them, despite the help and guidance of friends, refuse to believe they are even in a situation that requires them to seek medical assistance. They simply roam the world unable to think, be happy, be productive, make decisions, or simply exist in regular society. As for people (using the term as loosely as possible) I know, there is one in particular who could certainly do with medical assistance to deal with his very severe case of depression; Snuffleupagus.

Snuffleupagus lives on Sesame Street with many of his other puppet friends. With exception to Bert and Ernie (a different medical case entirely), most of the puppets seem rather happy with their lives. They are all friends, and get along rather well. The only problem is that Snuffleupagus has a tendency to experience the most extreme cases of depression. The most likely cause of this symptom is the fact that he is the imaginary friend of another puppet. I don’t know much about puppet imaginations, but seeing as puppets have no brains in their Styrofoam heads, it must be difficult for Snuffleupagus to go day-to-day with the knowledge that he was created from the mental projections of a creature with no mental functioning. He spends most of his days moping around the sidewalks of Sesame Street, for he is too big to fit in any houses. He moves slowly, gets very little done, and is always talking with a very long and slow drawl, almost as if every sentence may very well be his last. He does have small bursts of happiness, however, in which he and Big Bird will go about and do something productive, but for the majority of his life, Snuffleupagus is completely useless and unable to exist in society.

It is clear from his actions that Snuffleupagus should seek help immediately for Major Depression. I am not entirely sure what the medical world can do for an imaginary puppet elephant, but if there is hope out there for a better life, then he should certainly seek it. It is clear that, through the projections of the televised world, Snuffleupagus is in desperate need of help. He is suffering from a rather accurate depiction of Depression, and unless he tries to find a way to deal with his issues, he may very well end up hurting himself... though I’m not sure that imaginary friends killing themselves is considered “suicide”.

On a side note: this brings up lots of questions about Big Bird’s mental state. If he is imagining a friend who suffers with depression, I think it’s safe to assume that there are some unspoken issues going on with the focal puppet as well. Perhaps the real issue isn’t with Snuffleupagus, but rather with Big Bird, who is projecting all of his emotions onto his imaginary friend. Just something to think about.

Incoming!

Just a little warning: the reason my blogs haven't been appearing by the day is because I have been working on a story for the Mitchener Chronicles. So, expect a new update to the Mitchener Chronicles within the next few days.

I'll be back with a blog later... hopefully.

Real Conversation

No joke, this was a real conversation between two people I am happy to say I don't know. Well, one of them I would be sort-of happy to know, the other, not so much. You see, it's people like this that make me wonder what is going on with the education system today. We can apparently teach people how to build a building, how to write a novel, how to paint a picture, and how to manage the business world; but when it comes to basic things like common sense, people are still clueless.

This was how it happened:

I was in American Literature 1, a class I have very little respect for seeing as almost no one wrote anything down in early America. My professor was running around up front jotting down notes here and there, and in the middle of writing a long word, he stopped, switched the chalk from his right hand to his left, paused a little longer, and finished the word. Then he turned around and said "I'm sorry about the pauses. Being ambidextrous and dyslexic at the same time can be quite a pain."

After class, I was walking down the hall behind two girls. One of them was catting away casually and the other looked quite concerned. The chatty one apparently didn't notice. After a while, this conversation unfolded.

Concerned Girl: So... Ambidextrous... I didn't know they let people teach like that?

Chatty Girl: [long pause]. What do you think "ambidextrous" means?

Concerned Girl: Well, it's when your body is inhabited by two souls, isn't it? A good one and a bad one? And the bad one occasionally takes over and the good one can't do anything to stop it...

Chatty Girl: [longer pause, followed by sarcastic response]. Yea, that's right. I was worried you were getting it confused.

END.

I don't really have anything further to day. The jokes pretty much write themselves.

Fallen Foe

We all have had, at some point in our lives, one person that we simply cannot get along with. Our bitter distaste towards this specific individual would grow within us with every passing second, and during moments that you and this person were forced to spend time together, you could find absolutely nothing about them you liked. As time passed, the person became less of an annoyance and more of a counterpoint to yourself. Everything they were, you weren't. You built a relationship around these emotions, until in the end, you had walled yourself off completely from this individual, rendering the two of you utter enemies.

What would you say to this person if they died?

I will not tell you if this is hypothetical, or entirely based on real events. Instead, I will tell you what I would say, if I were to ever have a chance to talk to this person again. I will call him... "John".

John. I am not telling you any of this because I like you. If anything, it's for the complete opposite reason. It's strange, having lost a person in my life with whom I have so long despised. I've lost friends before- not close ones, but friends. It hurts. I never once imagined that it would feel worse to lose someone I hated. I tell you this here because I'm being realistic. I probably will never come and visit your grave, nor will I ever tell your parents I'm sorry. But I will tell you this: The line between hate and love is so fine that it's almost invisible. I hated you every single day of your life, as you hated me. And now, none of that really matters. I suppose, in the grand scheme of things, you kept me pointed in the direction of who I wanted to be. I would very often think "would John do this?" and if you would, then I would not. I don't really want to admit this, but in many ways, I feel I must. I miss you. Like love, hate requires a lot of work, and to all of a sudden have it taken away from me; it's not a pleasant feeling. So, I miss you, and though throughout your entire life I hated you, I can safely admit that at the same time, I loved you. You were the worst of friends, and I can never thank you enough for that. Rest in peace, my most hated of enemies. Rest in peace, my friend.

Now it's your turn. What would you say?

Heaven Reads No Vacancies (Part 4)

This will be my final piece to the "Heaven Reads No Vacancies" series. I have much more to say on the issue, but I don't like sticking to one topic for too long, just in case some of my readers are not enjoying it. I like to spice things up a little, and so, this will be my final note on the flaws with Heaven.

The final point I would like to touch on is the idea of "eternal bliss". Heaven, in almost all religions, promises some form of eternal enlightenment. That means that for eternity, you will have at your disposal all of what is necessary to maintain a level of complete happiness. We're not talking about a half-smile. No, we're talking full blown, stomach turning, face hurting, lip cracking happiness, unmatched by anything anywhere in the known and unknown universe.

There are a number of problems with this picture. The central issue can be discovered when the two words in question are separated and looked at as individuals. We are, of course, speaking about "Eternal" and "Bliss". Eternal implies eternity. As stated before, eternity is a very very very... very... long time. So long, in fact, that my mind can't even begin to grasp just how long it would last. A hundred years seems like a long time to me, and don't even get me started on a thousand, but infinity- now that's just crazy. How can anyone ever stay happy for eternity? I get bored with most things after a few weeks! I'll be damned if Heaven has such a ready supply of everything that I can stay entertained forever. In order for a person to be entertained for eternity, there would have to be an infinite number of things to keep them happy. Perhaps it's just my mortal mind holding me back, but I can't even remotely believe that Heaven could keep me in eternal bliss for more than a 1,000 years, yet alone for all of eternity.

The second problem is born from the word "bliss". Bliss, as I have come to understand the word, is when one is happy beyond all measure, to the point that they can never be more content. It's a climax, and as anyone with any literary knowledge knows, a climax can only be created if it is built up to, and then declined from. You must have a repression and a depression if you are to have a peak. Therefor, bliss can only be reached if you are not at first in a state of bliss, and will without-doubt fall from your state of bliss at a later date. Therefor, experiencing bliss for all of eternity would be physically and emotionally impossible. You would, at some point, be forced into a depression, or else you would never be able to experience this so-called eternal bliss.

I know, it kind of ruins the whole "Heaven is great!" idea, doesn't it?

NOTE: Special thanks to Andrew for assisting me on my poor mental graphing skills. Who would have guessed, I can write, but I can't visualize graphs...

Heaven Reads No Vacancies (Part 3)

The next biggest question regarding the comfort of Heaven is the issue of space. There are one of two options for the capacity of Heaven, each of which shall be adressed. Either it is infinite in size, and therefor has absolutely no limit to number of people it can comfortably occupy, or Heaven's size is finite, and therefor has a population limit that it can sustain. Both of these pose a number of different problems.

First, we will assume Heaven is infinite in size. If this were the case, then there would be an endless possible distance that one could place between themselves and everyone else. If you were to build a house in Heaven, it would be entirely possible that you are neighbors with someone who lives 10 trillion light years away. As far as having company over for dinner goes, this could be rather antisocial. Also, if this is the case, then getting from point A to point B in Heaven could very well occupy most of eternity. Again, this would get very old, very fast. The outcome, I believe it safe to assume, would be that no one would ever visit anyone for fear of spending eternity roaming the vast nothingness that exists between residences.

Option B, by comparison, isn't much better. If Heaven has a finite amount of space, there will one day reach a point that Heaven can no longer occupy anymore souls. The problem with souls, being that they are immortal, is that once they have taken up a seat in Heaven, they are in it forever. Obviously, 'forever' is a difficult concept to grasp, but just think about it for a moment. Once that seat is taken, it will never in all of eternity be emptied. That means that of our 33 billion souls that are currently sitting up in heaven, 33 billion will still be there in the next million years, plus however many people ascend during that time. It is obvious that with an infinite number of souls filling up a finite amount of space, Heaven will clearly run out of room, and eventually be forced to close its gates to all those worthy of entering.

On the flip side, Hell must follow the same rules. Assuming that of our 110 billion people who have existed on the planet Earth, 33 billion of them have filled seats in Heaven. This means that 77 billion have to go somewhere else. If that place were Hell, and it followed the same rules as Heaven, then either (a) the devil would be easy to avoid in infinity, or (b) Hell is probably full by now.

So really, if you think about it, it doesn't matter what you believe. When you finally reach those pearly gates, you're in for a rough ride when you realize that the sign has been flipped over from "Welcome!" to "No Vacancies".

Heaven Reads No Vacancies (Part 2)

Assuming then that there are 33 billion people sitting comfortably at or in the gates of heaven, it is safe to assume that these people have come from a very long line of humanity. Given the fact that we only have 6.8 billion people inhabiting the earth right now, which has only doubled to that point in very recent years, 3.9 billion in 1970, it is safe to say that the 33 billion have come from thousands of generations of human existence. This leads me to the next problem with heaven; the language barrier.

It is a difficult concept to grasp, given the incredibly short lifespan of humans in comparison to that of the universe, but just imagine how much language has changed over the recent years. Have you ever sat down with a grandparent, had a conversation, and realized that they are using words that you didn't even know existed? Just think, that is only a difference of two generations. From a heaven point-of-view, that's not even a blip on the radar! You would be interacting with people who, even though they speak the same core language, have so many generations of language alteration that really, the dialects are so different it would be akin to talking to a Frenchman when all you know is Spanish.

Once again, I am basing my arguments on a combined view of heaven drawn from multiple religions, because I'm assuming that they share the same place of spiritual enlightenment. For this reason, I am not taking into account the idea of having a new memory, or forgetting everything you learned on Earth. From a religions P.O.V., that would simply be counterproductive. What good would it do God to have his peons spend their whole life in commitment to him, just to have them forget all their devotion when the ascend to heaven? So, as far as having a community language in heaven goes, I'm ruling it out.

Today's overall summary of heaven's problems: If you plan on going, I'd recommend doing some intensive studying now on the different dialects of your own language. If not, you're going to be communicating with a very small population of heaven, and that will probably get boring fast.

Heaven Reads No Vacancies (Part 1)

There are a lot of problems I have with the idea of heaven as it is depicted in most forms of religious text. The core of religion seems very intent on disagreeing with new scientific discoveries. It has happened for years, from the point people started saying the world was round, all the way up until now when we are saying that there are other dimensions beyond our own. Religion and science just can't seem to get along. So, for the next couple (perhaps several) blogs, I will be basing my arguments on heaven around what religion tells us, and how it doesn't quite make sense from my perspective. And as you all know, my perspective is always, always, right.

So let's get started! First thing I would like to point out are the numbers. There are a lot of dead people. Lots. We're talking roughly 110 billion people from the dawn of time until now. That's a lot of people. Of course, heaven is certainly not filled with all these people. Almost every religion has some form of eternal damnation, and I think it's safe to assume that of those 110 billion people, less than 30% have made it into heaven. I say 30% for several reasons. First off, there is no religion existing today that existed at the dawn of time. For that reason, we can knock quite a few people out of heaven for simple ignorance; religion likes to punish ignorance. 30% is also a bit generous if you look at how many different religions there are in the world. I'm assuming that several of these religions will come together and share heaven, or else we'll be looking at 2% instead of 30%, which for the sake of my argument, is a bit depressing.

Assuming then that 30% of the human population ever to have passed through Earth is now up in heaven, we're looking at a nice round figure of about 33,000,000,000. That's a lot of people for a place with absolutely no economy, no business structure, no form of mass market, and absolutely nothing to supply individuals with what they need and want beyond "God's Will". Now, I know God is supposed to be pretty amazing, but can he really cater to the needs of 33 billion spirits, keep the angels (using the word angel loosely to describe all of God's assistants in all religions), AND watch all the goings on of Earth to ensure his investment in humanity continues to take that tragic turn towards self destruction? To be frank, I have my doubts.

Really, the point I'm trying to make here is this: If there is a heaven anything like the religious texts offer, there's probably a shortage of seating by now.

Breaking for Betterness

I have realized that since the release of Halo 3, my blogging has just plummeted in quality. Honestly, I am not proud of this. To be frank, I'm rather embarrassed that I kept blogging at all. So, to all my dedicated readers, I am very very sorry.

It is for this reason, I am going to take the next week off from blogging to re-organize my thoughts and start watching the world again for things that make me smile. I hope that after this week, my writing skills will have climbed back up to the level of greatness that I should be producing.

Once again, I'm sorry, and I will see you all in seven days.

Bye Bye Nun's

It always tickles me when Nun's do something wrong. It's even better when they get excommunicated for their actions. Here's the story:

http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/09/27/nuns.excommunicated.ap/index.html

Basically, what happened was several nun's decided they believed a certain person was possessed by the spirit of the Virgin Mary. They refused to change their beliefs, so they were excommunicated. If you read the whole story, I'm sorry. If you didn't, I just saved you five minutes.

Honestly, I don't think the church is being fair here. I don't think the nun's are really responsible for their beliefs. They live their entire life following the instructions of a book written thousands of years ago. A book which is in dire need of updating and editing. If I had the resources, I would tear that mess apart, and cut a good 1,000 pages out of the thing. I mean, how can you blame someone for their actions when they are just full of sexual tension? From my experiences, I've never met a happy nun. They always seem to have a stick halfway up their ass that they just can't seem to remove. That has got to mess with their minds.

Still, maybe now they aren't nun's, they can actually live their lives. I'll give them two weeks of freedom before they look back and think to themselves: "Wow, what was I thinking?!" Have fun nun's! It's party time!

When Did We Slip into Tomorrow?

I realize that technology is growing at such a rapid rate that it's almost impossible to keep up with it on your own. Just because I know this, it doesn't stop me being surprised whenever something changes right under my nose, and I almost entirely missed the transition. Today, I was searching for a story to write about, and on every single news website I went to, I found nothing but links to video news. When did people stop writing?

This worries me, because my only real skill is in my ability with words. I mean, I could write scripts for people to read, but that is certainly not as fun as just writing. It got me thinking that maybe I'm behind the times, and like so many people before me, my skill is going to become obsolete. That would be a disappointing turn of events.

Still, I was wondering if anyone else noticed this transition, or saw it coming? I like reading, and I like reading news. The way news is written just has a method of address which is almost unbiased. When someone talks about a specific event, there's always that little hint in their voice which directs me on how I should be feeling about an issue. I don't like that.

On another note, Homosexuals apparently don't exist in Iran. It's true- Ahmadinejad said so himself. He stood up in front of a huge group of people and said "We don't have homosexuals in this country". That's what I call targeted marketing. I can think of maybe two people who just pushed Iran up on their list of "places to visit before I die". It was a brave move on Ahmadinejad's part, but hell, if he only wants heterosuxals's in his country, so be it. I do wonder what he did with all the gays though. It's obvious that at some point they existed, and yet all of a sudden they are all gone. Where did Ahmadinejad put them? It's not like they are a box of kittens you can just leave on the side of the road. Honestly, I'm a bit disappointed. From my experience, I've always liked the gays. They have good sense of fashion, good taste in music, and from my experiences, I've never met a homosexual person who doesn't know how to cook at least 30 times better than myself. I would miss them if I were Ahmadinejad.

Anonymous

I am a fan of people commenting on my blog, I really am. It makes me smile to know that somewhere, someone is actually reading what I write. It also makes me happy when people take the time to say something valuable; something that contributes to or counters to overall point I am trying to make. I even like it when someone says something that is just entirely wrong, which if it is disagreement with what I said, is usually the case.

So what doesn't make me happy? Well, it doesn't make me happy when someone posts a comment with the tag "Anonymous" as their name. That just makes me frustrated. If you are going to write something, at least have the balls to stand up for your words.

This can be taken a step further when someone tries to argue with me, or point out a mistake I've made. Actually, I take that back, I enjoy it when people point out errors I make in my posts. I mean, on an average day, I write roughly 2,000-4,000 words. I would hope that within those 2,000-4,000 words, I would at least make one error. If I didn't, I would have evidence that I really am perfect, and nobody (except me) wants that. No, what frustrates me is when someone has an incredibly long comment that just begs a response, and yet I cannot address the person or persons involved as anything but "Anonymous". That just pisses me off.

So, If you are going to comment, do it properly. Give me a name, some initials, a series of numbers, anything to identify you as an individual. There are a shit-load of "Anonymous" people out there, and to speak frankly, I don't care at all what any of them have to say about anything.

NOTE: This is not an attack at my most recent poster as "Anonymous". It is just a general attack on people who don't like to be recognized.

Am I Right or Just Pretending?

The mind is a wonderful piece of machinery. Several months ago, I wrote a post about how the brain has the ability to create artificial memories, also known as memory implantation. I also talked about how the body adjusts to certain levels of stress and emotional trauma. Certain people get better better after a traumatic event faster than others do, and some people simply never get better. I divulged into how the mind may simply be adjusting its self to a new base rate as the default level of normality. I also explained how this may be a valid theory because the brain has absolutely no way to remember emotions, but rather groups memories based on how the emotion makes the feel at the time. Here's a link to that post to give you greater understanding of the mental process:

http://mitchenermind.blogspot.com/2007/07/emotional-perception.html

I was thinking a lot about emotions today, and how little I seem to care about so many things that once would have ripped me apart. It seems that I have desensitized so much that things that once would have left me on the brink of tears now just seem like inevitable outcomes to a world that is full of humility and regret. Sad, isn't it. I'm not trying to be, I promise. I was just thinking.

That lead me to, for some reason, thinking about how often I have convinced myself I am right, even when I know I'm wrong. I usually make a game out of it, trying to convince others that what I'm saying is one hundred percent correct, even when I know that in truth I am just plain wrong. I tend to do that a lot on this blog. It's fun, because a lot of people simply don't realize what I'm up to. I've had several comments about how terrible of a person I am, when really, I am just making you look like an ass form my perspective. It's great.

Still, it makes me wonder, when looking back on certain events, how often everything happened exactly as I remembered it. I make up a lot of stuff, and have an overly active imagination. I wonder how much of that is added into my memories?

Anyhow, that's really it for today. I don't have much of anything useful or funny to tell you. My brain is preoccupied with upcoming events of the present. Perhaps I'll have more to say tomorrow. Ha, I always have more to say tomorrow!

Not Punning Funny!

There are some things in this world that are designed to make a person laugh. There are some things that are designed to make a person cry. Then there are just some things that make a person want to drown a baby. Puns are one of those things.

For those that don't know, I am not a fan of punning. It isn't funny, and it is in no way worth all the effort that one puts into the construction process. It is embarassing, and every time a pun is told, a kitten somewhere in the world dies. And it's not just any kitten. No, it's a kitten belonging to a sweet and innocent four-year-old girl. Do you really want to take away a child's pet? You bastard.

Also, I believe that people who spend their time developing puns are soul reapers. They travel across the world telling puns, and every time they succeed, someone within earshot loses a fraction of their soul. These reapers then collect the tiny fragments of dead souls and move on their way, telling further puns and killing more souls.

Stop telling puns. I happen to like my soul.

Day Off

Busy day today, so I'm taking a miss. I'll see you tomorrow

Gods With Flaws

I realize that a lot of my comments recently have been about God. I promise to tone them down after this, but when I get on a roll about something it's always hard to stop. Still, this is the final post of God-talk that I really wanted to get out there. With that said, here goes amazing!

One of the biggest problems I have with most organized religion is the idea that God is flawless. It just seems a bit odd to me that something can be absolutely perfect in every conceivable way. I say this because, in many ways, perfection is a matter of perception. The human mind (and I'm assuming that you religious people believe the soul is in some how connected to the mind) is a difference engine. It notices patterns, nothing more. The beauty of this is that it gives all of us the ability to function as individuals, and therefor, we can come to different conclusions about the same thing. For example, what I believe is beautiful, you may not. What I think is funny, you may not. What I find 100% correct, you may not. If this is the case, how can God possibly be perfect? If my idea of perfection is different from yours, how can you argue with me that he is perfect when clearly you and I have very different ideas on almost everything?

This is why I really enjoy the idea of Flawed Gods. The Greeks had this one down perfectly. Even their God of Gods, Zeus, was imperfect. Every God had his or her own pros and cons, each feeding off the other and creating not one perfect God, but instead a community of imperfect Gods that worked off of each other to do their bidding. Greek mythology is cool like that. It has a lot of interesting stories to it, and many of the Gods are no better than you or I. In fact, I think I'd be pretty good at ruling Mount Olympus.

The Vain Approach

The world is an interesting place, mainly because it is constantly changing. What is considered acceptable and normal is far from constant, and the methods in which we approach and deal with certain situations are changing every day. There are two specific methods of approach that have been in societal flux for most of my life; the Vain and Modest approaches to life.

It was considered, for the longest time, inappropriate to be anything but modest in your actions. Those that took a vain approach were considered to be terribly rude. It was better to dull down one's achievements than to buff them up, and so the words "oh, it was nothing" and "anyone could have done it" were very common in conversation. In the early years of my life, this was how I was taught to act. Modesty was the correct way to go, and you should never be too proud of the fact that you are better than someone else at a specific thing. It was better to be well-rounded in everything than superb at something.

That is no longer the case. In today's world, everything is based on competition. One must push past others to get to the top, but must do it in a way that those he treads on will not be bitter at his advancement. It is a world in which vanity is the most profitable method of attack. To admit that you, or something you did, took no effort or could have been done by anyone is akin to signing your own death warrant. Today, one must be vain in order to go farther than their peers.

It is for this reason that I am adopting what I am coining the Vain Approach to Life. You probably should do this also. Though, it really won't make much of a difference; I'm better than you.

No Bungee for You!

I always am amused by people who get mad at things that are so clearly their own fault. I bring this up because the other day, when I was crossing campus to go to my Shakespeare The Early Plays class, I overheard a fat girl talking to some of her friends about an "asshole who wouldn't let her ride the bungee ride in Six Flags." After hearing this, I actually came to a complete halt, took a seat in a chair not too far away from her, and listened in. I ended up being almost ten minutes late for class, but I think it was worth it. Allow me to set the stage before I tell the story:

This woman was enormous. We're not talking a little overweight, we're talking so overweight I'm surprised she doesn't have a heart attack just standing up and walking to the door. She was a ball, from top to bottom. One little push would probably send her rolling off in any odd direction. She was with a number of extremely skinny girls, all of them who seemed to be very sympathetic of the woman's situation. On any normal day, I would by sympathetic also. I know that Obesity is a very common and very threatening illness, and a lot of the time it cannot be helped. There is so much evidence that it is genetic it's becoming difficult to fully blame the individual for their situation. However, I do believe there is a point where a poor situation can become your own fault. This girl was at that point. She had in her hand a monster bag of Cheeto's, on the table she had a basket of fried chicken, and then a two liter bottle of coke. I kid you not. So, my respect for her was low. Now, for the story.

There she was, shoveling Cheeto's into her mouth and sipping on her Coke straight from the bottle (in which she had a straw which kept falling down into the neck and vanishing into the black abyss that was the remnants of Coke she had not yet consumed). She was yelling, literally yelling, as if the skinny girls in front of her, all of whom were eying up the food with immense desire, couldn't hear her unless she screamed at the top of her lungs. So, fat girl kept on yelling, turning the heads of many passers by, her scream rivaling that of a pack of wild and starving wolves. I'll try to quote as best I can what I heard.

Fat Girl: And so I went to get on the Bungee ride, and the guy working it said I couldn't ride it because I was too heavy! Can you believe that?

Skinny Girl 1: That's awful.

Fat Girl: Yea, so I told him he shouldn't offer the ride if not everyone can ride it. Then guess what? He had the nerve to tell me that little kids couldn't ride it either. The ride wasn't built for everyone, and he was 'sorry' that I wasn't able to go on. It was 'for my own safety'.

Skinny Girl 2: What an asshole

Fat Girl: I know! I told him to go fuck himself, and I was never coming back here again, and none of my friends would be either!

I was laughing, of course. I think Skinny Girl 3, who said nothing during this entire rant of Fat Girl, knew exactly what I was laughing at because she kept glancing over at me and looking embarrassed. Really, if Fat Girl wanted to ride the bungee thing so badly, maybe instead of the Cheeto's and Chicken, she should be snacking on carrot sticks.

But hey, what do I know, I'm as skinny as a twig. It's grand being me!

God's Power

I'm not a religious person by any means. I accept all forms of religion (except Mormonism; those people are idiots), and I love discussing what people believe for the sole purpose of learning why they believe it. It fascinates me. But it's not fair to say that I am full of respect. This is a blog, after all. I do have a tendency to inform others that I am a deity. I want to clear things up in this field for those who are offended. Hopefully come the end, you'll be fuming.

I am your God. I think it's most important that I word the sentence is such a fashion that there is no dispute over which God I am. I am your God. Yours. I don't care what you believe, who you believe in, or what level of influence your God has. I am your God. For those of you with multiple deities, I am the alpha of those Gods. There is always one God with just a bit more power and control than all the others, and that's me.

I'm not going to go into explanations as to why I am your God, for that would not be very Godlike. God's have a tendency to beat around the bush in matters of explanation. Allow me to give you my first God-Quote: "I am that which I am, for no other could ever be". That sounds sort-of Godlike... Yep, that's my first quote. Believers, non-believers, hold tight to that quote. I think I'll make it the trivia question for getting into heaven. If you know it, you're in! If not, it's straight to... well, I don't know where you'll go, because I've decided I already defeated Satan and now hell is just a giant dump sight for heavenly waste. Spirits have to poop too... We'll figure something out for you non-believers.

Now, I know an argument is growing here about how I couldn't possibly be God because I'm not perfect. I have two things to say to those people: (1) If you think I'm not perfect, you obviously haven't met me, and (2) if ever I do slip up and make the odd mistake here or there, it's just because of this stupid mortal shell I'm in. Once I get out of this bad-boy, it'll be back to awesomeness for me.

So, goodbye, good day, and good life. I'll see you at the end, if never again.

Giddy With Joy!

I know I don't usually post two legitimate posts in one day, but I am so happy right now I feel obligated to share my joy with all of you; my readers. For those who read me frequently, you will know that these posts gets quite a lot of activity from you, my committed readers. I get many suggestions of topics to write about and get tons of IM's and Emails talking to me about a specific post. But never before, in my 120+ posts, have I had responses as fueled and exciting as the ones on "Tricky Words". It is for this reason that I am going to do something completely out of the ordinary, and instead of adding an update to "Tricky Words" as I would normally do, I am going to write an entirely new post. The comments all came through on Facebook by a gentleman who will be referred to as Person Y for the sake of his privacy (unless you are reading this through Facebook, in which case you can just go check for yourself). His comments, sadly, did not go through on this blog, so in order to give you a better understanding of what I am writing about, I am going to paste everything he wrote in here.

His responses were as follows:
1. Weapons of mass destruction are not solely limited to nuclear weapons, which we have reliable intelligence that nukes were being smuggled into iran (taken fromt he top iraqi general who personally was on the flight transporting them prior to the US assault). Regardless of whether the nuclear situation is true or not, the fact remains that we have found countless amounts of biochemical agents, that he has used on his own people (the kurds). Im fairly certain biochemical weaponry is a weapon of mass destruction. So to say we didnt find any WMD's is just pure ignorance and blatant lies that the press is pumping out.
2. You believe that the troop surge in Iraq is simply to have more men there to do "nothing"? I dont know who you have talked to to actually find out what the troops are doing there, but i think if you actually took a moment to see what we really do in Iraq, you'd think twice about demeaning the men and women who are busting their asses over there every day by saying that all their hard work is "nothing."
3. Do you realize what pulling the troops out of Iraq will mean for the country? A bloodbath. Genocide on a level to mirror the tragedies in Rwanda, and Ethiopia. The Sunni's and the Shia's are already roaming around trying to kill each other off in death squads even with a heavy US presence, if we are gone they will massacre each other, and the country will be worse off than before.
If you want to buy into the media hype about how terrible things are and how dumb bush is, go right ahead, but please, i ask that you actually take the time to research facts instead of ignorantly believing what the press tells you. And for the love of god, do not demean the troops who are over there dying to make a difference in this world.

There you have it. Those that understand how this blog tends to work are probably about as happy as I am right now. Those that aren't, you really need to be updated on how this thing works. I forget that this blog is floating around everywhere these days, and a lot of people don't actually know me, or know me well enough to understand the thought process of one such as myself. Here's how it works.

1) I don't care about anything, anywhere, at any time. Ever.

2) 62.71% of everything I say is utter bullshit.

3) Most of my arguments, I don't even believe.

4) Negative responses make me happier than positive ones
a) I try to piss you off
b) Your anger fuels me

5) I never enter into a fake argument without knowing what I'm talking about, at least well enough to bullshit my way through anything you throw at me.

There's the rules of the Mitchener Mind. Everyone who doesn't know them, now you do. Now, I want to thank Person Y for writing as well as he did. Usually I just get a "you're a prick" or "you're wrong". No, Person Y actually put some thought into this. He saw what I had written, threw up the defensive shield, and began preparing a counter argument to my comments. That's a sign of an educated individual, and it makes me glad to have him judge me. I would welcome any further comments he has on anything I say.

With that said, I would like to thank Person Y. There you have it. Thank you. You are a good man, and I have always thought highly of you. I wish you the best of luck in your future, as I do for all those I actually care about.

Now, back to the blog mindset: Bush is a moron, everything the government says is a lie, the media is always right, and I am God. The final one is the most important.

Going for the Crown

Miss Venezuela was crowned the other day. It was big news in Venezuela, but the repercussions were heard around the world. Ironically, the reason for the popularity was not because of the new crown bearer, but rather because of the man who decided the crown belonged to him, and so hopped on stage and literally snatched it off Miss Venezuela's head.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/player/nol/newsid_6990000/newsid_6996100/6996189.stm?bw=bb&mp=wm&asb=1&news=1&ms3=54

I don't think we should jump to conclusions just yet. I think, before we judge this man, we should throw out all the possible reasons he chose to jump on stage, dodge those people escorting Miss Venezuela to her thrown, tackle the pageant queen, and then steal her crown.

The most obvious reason would be that he felt he should have been Miss Venezuela. He's either a little gender confused, or angry that he is prettier than her and yet she still won. It's not fair when unattractive people get a crown, but when a pretty person gets it who just isn't as pretty as you- now that has got to be infuriating.

Another possibility is that he wanted attention. Why do people streak? Because they know they'll get noticed, even if it does end in them being walked out of the stadium in cuffs with their dong flapping about between their legs. This guy may have had the same mindset. He saw the twinkly crown and thought "this is my time to shine!" and off he went to snatch the thing.

Honestly, I'm impressed with his commitment. The way he hauled himself up onto that stage, how he weaved himself around Miss Venezuela's escort- he was a man on a mission! He was even laughing as the cops dragged him outside!

That would be an interesting conversation starter while he's avoiding gang rape in prison.

Mr. Venezuela: What you in for?

Tough guy 1: Murder

Tough guy 2: Attempted murder

Tough guy 3: Rape

Tough guy 4: Assaulting a Pigster

Mr. Venezuela: I bitch-slapped Miss Venezuela and took her crown.

Really, I think this guy did the pageant world a favour. I can't remember the last time I was this excited about any beauty queen being crowned!

Tricky Words

Though I am a firm believer that George W. Bush couldn't stand on his own two feet on the terrible game show "Are You Smarter than a Fifth Grader", I do believe that of those people he surrounds himself with, at least two of them are incredibly intelligent. For those who did not know, earlier this year George W. ordered a massive surge of troops to enter Iraq to ensure victory in Operation Iraqi Freedom. Apparently, George W. and I have different sources for our information, because as far as my knowledge extended, the war had ended when we finally found all those weapons of mass destruction. Oh, wait, no, they didn't exist.

Still, someone that is close to George W. must have convinced him to insert more troops in Iraq. If you think about it, it's a genius plan. Bush's support is so low it really doesn't matter what he does. He could probably call a press conference, come out dressed in his boxers (which would most certainly bare an American Flag), stand at the podium, and then take a crap in his hand and start throwing it at the press. I think the headline the following day would read "Bush continues to throw out the same old shit!", accompanied by the mass public response of "well, yea..." So, as far as doing something negative, he can't really suffer any further. So, off go all these new troops to Iraq to do absolutely nothing with all the other troops that are there.

What next? Pull the troops out! Wait maybe a year, then just yank those troops out of Iraq and say you are withdrawing some troops because you feel like you're winning. The headline "Bush begins troop withdrawal!" will appear all over the world, and people will be as happy as a lifetime pothead with a tumor and a full access pass to the Medical Marijuana supplies- all covered by his insurance.

Here's the link with the story: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/6993721.stm

Really, I just feel obligated to commend whoever it was that came up with this brilliant idea. This blatant manipulation of the publics interests is just fantastic, and Bush, you deserve a pat on the back for accepting this one. I think it's the first time I have ever been proud of you for being such a blatant liar. Way to go!

Sinners Bliss

Sinners be damned! Or I suppose, Sinners be happy! I have stumbled across a way that you and I can still get into heaven! Every contract has its loopholes, and we all know that the Bible, in which the guidelines for getting into heaven were documented, was written so long ago that it is in dire need of updating. The problem is, God hasn't spoken to us for a while, and so there's no way to keep up to speed with human development. Looks like we outfoxed you, God! But that's not the important part. Thanks to God's inability to update his guidelines for entrance into the pearly gates, what with modern medicine, we are now easily able to be part of a loophole. What loop hole? Self Sacrifice.

Here's how to do it:

1) Become an organ donor.

2) Have it documented that if you are to slip into a vegetative state, you want to be taken off life support.

That's it! You are now in the loophole with the rest of us sinning organ donors! You see, by becoming an organ donor, you are saying that you want to die to give others the opportunity to live. Granted, death only comes when you are unable to be saved, but that doesn't change the fact that you are giving up what remains of your life to have all your organs removed and given to another individual. You are a hero! I'm sure God knows about this loophole, but he certainly can't punish us for something we don't know we aren't allowed to do. The way the whole God structure works is based entirely on justice and balance. He would be unjust to punish us for breaking laws he has not made.

So, off you go. Sin. Be free! And hope that when you die, you die in a manner that ends up allowing you to donate your organs to another person. If not, you're going straight to Hell. In my opinion, it's worth a shot.

Sticks, Hands, and Fabric

Even as a young child, there was always one show that just drove me insane whenever it appeared on television. It would appear in the day, often at times that would interfere with quality programming, and it would stay on the television for anything from a single episode, to a marathon of collected episodes that some idiot decided were important. By the end of each episode, I felt a little less alive. So, I suppose I have at least one thing to thank it for: The Muppet Show; you killed my childhood piece by piece.

If you happen to be a fan of the Muppet Show, then... well, you know what, I was going to apologize to you for my hatred, but I'm not sorry in the least. How dare you enjoy something that is so obviously about nothing! How dare you sit there and laugh at the antics of those puppets as they dance around the stage pretending they are performing live when in fact, they don't even have vocal chords with which to sing! There was never anything to be gained from the Muppet Show, unlike other programmes such as Scooby Doo, which taught you how to catch ghosts, all of which would end up being people, or Johnny Bravo, who taught you the art of courtship. The Muppets, in the long run, contributed in absolutely no way to society.

That said, I would like to move on to more specific targets. Kermit the frog. He is a star, and has appeared in many other shows outside of the Muppet Show. I believe at one time, he even had his own show in which he did almost exactly the same thing he did on the Muppet Show, just without his supporting cast of other puppets. He was a terrible roll model, and should not have been broadcasted in such a manner. First up, he couldn't talk properly. His voice always drawled on, and he always sounded depressed. He was green; children should not be convinced that being green is a good thing. Most importantly, he is a frog. Frogs eat things with their tongues. What is that teaching our generation about proper table manners?

Perhaps even worse than Kermit the Frog was Miss Piggy. She was a sex graved lunatic that would do anything to hop on Kermit the Frog's nuts. She could almost always be seen in the most revealing of attire (which for a pig, is less than flattering), and she would sing and dance about how in love she was with Kermit who loved her strictly out of obligation, if even at all. What lessons are these?! Pig and Frog intercourse supports bestiality. If it's alright for a frog to drill a pig, what's stopping a person? Nothing, that's what! Also, children should never be convinced that pigs enjoy dressing in slutty cloths. At least Kermit the Frog always appeared naked. Children: Pigs don't wear cloths! Don't listen to the Muppet Show! But probably most importantly is the complete disregard the Muppet Show had for the importance of relationship equality. Miss Piggy was a controlling bitch who manipulated Kermit the Frog in every possible way. She was the perfect example of an awful spouse, and yet was constantly an item throughout the entire Muppet series.

This final message goes out to all the little boys and girls in the world. Stop watching the Muppet Show! It's bad for you! Watch the high quality values of shows like Family Guy instead.

SUB NOTE: Don't forget about the Mitchener Chronicles: http://mitchenerchronicles.blogspot.com

The Mitchener Chronicles

I am pleased to announce, thanks to everyone's input on the matter, that The Mitchener Chronicles have been born. If you feel the need, go ahead and add them to your Google Reader, bookmark the page, or whatever other means of accessing my feeds you may use.

The address is: http://mitchenerchronicles.blogspot.com

Once every two-four weeks, I will post a short story for your enjoyment. The first one is already up there, titled "A Normal Day". Enjoy!

Battle of the Gods

Today's post will most likely offend a large number of people. To those people: Pull your thumbs out your asses and get a sense of humour. That said, we recently discussed who would win a battle to the death between Superman and Darth Vader. Today, I have another fight question. Who would win in a battle to the death between Rama, Jesus, or Buddha?

In my opinion, this is a hands down winning to Rama. But I want you to think about it and argue with me, especially if I either (a) did not include your god, or (b) said your god would lose. Fight me! That's what these gods would want!

Here's why I think Rama would win. First off, the guy is blue. How many blue people have you met that were still alive? I've seen a few on TV that were dead and blue, but alive people that are blue? I haven't seen a single one! So for starters, he's pretty unique. Second, he carries around a bow everywhere he goes. This isn't just a regular bow. No, this bow shoots arrows invested with the power of a god. His arrows can take on the form of light, can cause fires, can do pretty much whatever the heck he wants. Also, he single handedly scoured the entire planet to save his love, Sita, from the evil Ravana. For those who don't know who Ravana is, he is a guy with 10 heads and 10 pairs of arms. That's 20 hands. Can you imagine how hard it would be to fight someone like that? Jesus couldn't do it, that's for sure. Also, just as a side note, he has a devoted monkey as a sidekick. Hanuman can grow to any size he wants, and he also has the entire worlds primate community behind him. That's quite a team committed to fighting for Rama's gain.

So I'm sure you're asking yourself why I think Jesus and Buddha wouldn't stand a chance. They are formidable opponents, right? Wrong. I'll start with Jesus. He's the son of God for starters. He's not even God. Just the son of God. Now I know that some of your are going to argue that he is in fact God, and that he's a part of a third of God, but there are also forms of Christianity that are going to tell you to shut up because you're wrong, and the Jew's will just plain out disagree with you that he is even the son of God. So, for those people who want to argue that he is God, be happy, I'm at least granting you the fact that he is related to the almighty. But still, he was a pacifist. Jesus wasn't a big fan of fighting. He ended up killing himself to avoid it, remember? I think that if it came down to a three way battle to the death, he would find a way to make it seem like he was sacrificing himself. Maybe take one of Rama's arrows in protecting Buddha?

Why not Buddha? Just look at him. He weighs something along the lines of a million billion pounds. Plus, he's already reached Nirvana, why the hell would he care about death? He has no attachments in this world, and so death would only grant him endless rewards. Not to mention the fact that the guy's birthday is a week long celebration. Anyone who parties for a week to celebrate their birthday can't be that into the whole warfare thing. I can see him taking 30 or so arrows from Rama's bow, then biting the dust and ascending into eternal bliss.

That's my prediction for the Battle of the Gods. What do you think?

Help Me Decide

I have been thinking, for some time now, that it might be interesting to have a blog dedicated to short stories. I was wondering what you all thought, as my readers, about such an idea. Simple question for the day, and by extension an unusually short Blog, what do you think?

Here's how it would work. Every other week I would post up a short story that I have written specifically for that two-week period. I would do it every week, but there's just not enough time for me to juggle my incredible work load for school and writing a short story once a week. I am, after all, writing part two of The Gift of Light Trilogy, and can't be using up too much of this precious time hammering out shorts. So, once every two weeks, I would post (on a different blog dedicated only to short stories) a single short.

Most important question: would you read them?

Respond through whatever means are easiest to you; facebook message, IM, phone call, comment on this blog, etc. Thanks readers!

Kryptonite

I can't really remember if I ever wrote about this, so just in case I did, I'll keep this introduction short. There was a monumental breakthrough in the elemental experiments devision of our scientific world. Apparently, we discovered an element with all of the properties of Kryptonite. Naturally, this opens up a world of possibilities for us. For starters, if ever a member of Krypton arrives on our planet, we can remove him from the gene pool. I'm sure there are other reasons why this would be a fantastic discovery, but right now, I can't think of any.

Still, this does raise further questions. I've always wondered this, being both a Superman fan and a Star Wars fan. Who would win in a battle to the death: Darth Vader or Superman? Obviously, there are many factors that would determine the outcome of such an amazing battle, all of which should be taken into account before deciding on a victor. Let's get to cracking this mystery!

We'll start with a basic one-on-one battle. Neither of the combatants has anything but their natural abilities. The most important question is where would they be fighting? Obviously, if they are fighting in the Star Wars universe, Superman would have to hope that there is a yellow sun nearby (for those who don't know, Superman's powers come from a yellow sun). If the the planet they are near happens to possess a red sun, Superman would be nothing more than a regular human. So, in that situation, I would say Darth Vader would win.

Score: Darth Vader: 1   Superman: 0

Of course, if the two were to fight under the same conditions, except in an environment in which there was a yellow sun, Superman would most definately obliterate Darth Vader. The force should never be underestimated, but a man who cannot be destroyed would definitely be a powerful adversary. I am holding strong and giving Superman the following point.

Score: Darth Vader: 1   Superman: 1

Now, we all know that Darth Vader would never enter a situation that he knew he could not win. He learned that lesson fighting Obi-wan. So, I think it's safe to assume that before Darth Vader challenged Superman (who is a kind hearted individual and would never challenge Darth Vader for fear of making an enemy), Darth Vader would search high and low for a Kryptonite crystal. He would then install said crystal into his lightsaber, causing a beam of pure energy consisting of nothing but Superman's greatest weakness; Kryptonite. Of course, at this point, Darth Vader would undoubtedly have the battle in the palm of his hand. This bumps the score up in Darth Vader's favour.

Score: Darth Vader: 2   Superman: 1

What about Krypton? I don't think the planet blew up as the histories say it does. Darth Vader is an intelligent and powerful man. He has a Death Star at his disposal, after all. Ever wonder why that beam of energy the Death Star shoots is green? Let me enlighten you on the truth that George Lucas never wanted you to know: The Death Star is powered by a Kryptonite crystal! With this information at hand, it is safe to assume that Darth Vader saw the potential threat of the Kryptonians, then wiped out their entire planet using their greatest weakness. I see a pattern building in these scores... I think it's fair to to give Darth Vader a point for every Kryptonian he killed. All of them are, after all, potential supermen.

Score: Darth Vader: 1,000,000   Superman: 1

I think I can stop here. Superman really doesn't stand much of a chance when you think about it. What can I say, Darth Vader is just that good.