Saturday, December 23, 2006

It's a Festivus Miracle!!

Christmas is overrated!! Why not bring people together with a holiday everyone can enjoy! The joy of Festivus can be spread to all people!

So gather 'round the aluminum Festivus pole, air your grievances, and prepare for the feats of strength, because this Festivus will be one to remember!


Despite the phallic overtones, children love Festivus!


Union workers everywhere love Festivus!


It's a Festivus for the rest of us!!!


Wednesday, December 20, 2006

The Agony of Defeat

Long time followers (and anyone within earshot when the subject of the police is brought up) will know that I've got a penchant for getting speeding tickets. Well, my third ticket was bullshit. I was nailed going 40mph in a 25mph zone. The catch was that the road did not have a speed limit sign on it.

I decided to plead not guilty.

I lost before I even got to my hearing.

I left early this morning because the powers that be saw fit to schedule the hearing for today, seven days after I left Morgantown; therefore, I had to drive the whole way back for this shit.

Well I get to the county courtroom, and I do get a bit of perk. I get to see the lowlifes and degenerates of Morgantown. And here I thought the regular hill folk were strange enough.

Anyway, a man who identified himself only as "The Prosecutor" calls my name and takes me into a separate room. "The Prosecutor" looks like Tony Soprano and talks like him too. I'm unsettled. He tells me that I cannot win my case because there is a law that states that the speed limit on any road in town is automatically 25mph unless otherwise posted.

Now for you longtime readers, this may sound familiar. Here is an excerpt from my October 2006 blog post titled "I Fought the Law and the Law Won":

"Apparently, municipalities will have an 'unwritten speed limit' rule written into the law. The speed limit is automatically whatever the city council deems safe in the absence of marked signs. This is some shady shit right there."

When I first stumbled across this little tidbit a few months ago, I didn't believe it. I thought it was just some goofy rumor. I mean, how could such a thing be legal? The government can just make up laws and then not tell the citizens what they are and then expect them to follow them?

Sure what the hell!

I guess the old saying "Ignorance of the law is no excuse" is taken quite literally in traffic court.

Well "The Prosecutor" feels bad for me, so he reduces the fine to $1.00. I was really happy.... until he told me that the court costs were $165.50.

That made me feel like the biggest chump on the planet. My original ticket was $170. Now I have to pay $166.50 plus the money I already spent in gas to make that 4 hour round trip.

I don't care what anyone tells you: no good comes from fighting a speeding ticket. Just accept that the cops are going to rape you. Bend over, spread your legs, and take it like a man.

Bottom line: I got owned.

Monday, December 18, 2006

The Stormin' Mormon, Part 4: The Fundie Undies


Now that we've covered most of the big concepts behind the religion, let's talk about some of the everyday nonsense that just boggles the mind. One of my favorites has to be the "temple garments" that adult Mormons wear. My friend Joy likes to call them "Fundie Undies."

Try this on for size! Mormons who are deemed worthy of going to the Temple (we'll come back to this idea in a few moments) are required to wear magic underwear at all times. It can only be removed for sex, sports, and bathing. According to Mormons, this underwear apparently has supernatural capabilities as there are stories of them protecting people from bodily harm -- even gunshots!! The NYPD really needs to look into this!

As I've mentioned many times so far, Mormons don't like to publicize the really weird shit that they do. This one is probably the biggest secret, but they've got a plan for that. You see, Mormons aren't allowed to discuss the underwear because it represents a sacred bond between the wearer and God. Apparently, God wants his connection to you to be close to your crotch.

I'm tellin ya, whatever Victoria's secret is, it's nothing compared to this.

I never had fundie undies. I kinda wish I did. It's not exactly easy to come by, and I'd love to have some on hand for comedic purposes.

I never really gave the Temples much thought. They were just really big churches as far as I was concerned. Then I learned about the Fundie Undies that they hand out there and I wondered, "Just what the hell is going on in there?" Because they don't let you know what goes on in the Temples until you've been approved to go there. Due to my wicked sinful ways, I was never permitted to go. Once again, I kinda wish I'd churched up for a few months just so I could go check it out.

I really think that the underwear thing should come up on the first visit with the Mormon missionaries. And THAT reminds me of a good point - Missionaries. There's a job I'm glad I skipped out on. Mormon missionaries are right up there with the Jehovah's Witnesses (sorry to steal your thunder Joy) in terms of people you love to chase off your lawn with a shotgun (at least round these here parts). I'm surprised how opposed the Mormon church is to homosexuality given that they require horny Mormon teenagers to wander the world in pairs for two years without being allowed any time with women. Oh yea, and masturbation is a sin.

You figure that one out yourself!

----------------

So I think that concludes my Mormon tirade for right now. Some final thoughts.

Let's not forget that just about every religion has some bizarre beliefs when you get right down to it. They all believe that a magical invisible man up in the sky has this materful plan to run the universe according to his will, but you can change his mind with a 20 second prayer. As you are likely aware by now, I'm very skeptical of religion. I haven't ruled anything out at this point, but once you've been burned by one religion, it's hard to take another one seriously. I've looked into a few others, but I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I mean, who knows what the Methodists' dirty little secret is. What's their equivalent of the fundie undies?

Mormonism sounds pretty good to the casual person who listens to what the missionaries have to say. That's why so many people join. They have this little six-step lesson plan to indoctrinate people. They're pretty good at it. Most of the missionaries probably don't even know a lot of the strange stuff yet. They're all younger than I am, and you don't learn the really really weird stuff until you've been a member for quite some time. By the time most people figure it out, they're already too far into it religiously and socially.

But I can't give Mormons that much grief. Hell, I have eighteen years worth of memories to think about whenever I'm in need of a good chuckle. Two words can brighten my day whenever they cross my mind: Fundie Undies.

Nuff said.

Sunday, December 17, 2006

The Stormin' Mormon, Part 3: Indian Givers


So let's talk about the Book of Mormon for a bit. This book apparently picks up where the New Testament left off. According to Mormon bullshit, there was a thirteenth tribe of Israel. This is not to be confused with traditional Christian bullshit, which claims that there were twelve tribes of Israel that were decendents of Jacob.

Side story: Jacob, as you may or may not be aware, is the grandson of Abraham. I love the story of Abraham. Talk about God getting some laughs out of a senile old man. You all know this story. Abraham is just sitting around minding his own business when the VOICE OF GOD speaks to him. God tells Abraham to go sacrifice his son Isaac. So Abraham hollers for his boy who's out herding sheep (or some other equally dull biblical job), "Hey Isaac! Grab daddy's sacrificin' gear and let's go up into the mountains!" So they go up to the mountains and Abraham lays Isaac out on this slab and prepares to sacrifice him. God suddenly pops up. "Oh man!! I can't believe you were actually going to do it!! Gotcha!!" Apparently God was just testing Abraham (God does this a lot in the bible), and Abraham and Isaac continue on their merry way.

One wonders what Isaac thought of that whole ordeal. I mean, dear old dad just tried to kill him! That's gotta create some resentment later in life.

But anyway, I'm digressing. The theory goes that everyone is descended from the original Twelve Tribes of Israel. The bible talks about this in some detail. The Book of Mormon, however, postulates the existence of a 13th Tribe of Israel. At some point, this thirteenth tribe set off for parts unknown. The Book of Mormon documents their supposed journey.

Apparently the Mormons head east across Asia until they get to the Pacific Ocean. At this point, they build eight wooden submarines (can't make this shit up!) and cross the Ocean to the Americas. I have to ask: why submarines??? Were ships out of the question?? The mind reels!

The big daddy on the journey is Lehi, and while they're on their journey, Jesus comes to visit! Turns out Jesus made a little detour during his resurrection to come visit these wayward souls. I guess he said "Fuck off!" to everyone else who wasn't living in Jeruselem when he desided to be resurrected. Well Lehi devotes his life to living Jesus's teachings, and his son Nephi does the same. One of Lehi's other sons, Laman, is a fucker. He takes every opportunity to screw with Nephi and piss him off (my kinda guy).

As one would imagine, they have a falling out. Laman takes a group of people off to live separately. I loved these parts of Sunday school where they would tell us how the Lamanites lived. The Lamanites drank all the time, worshipped idols, had mass orgies, overate, did drugs, married sheep, or whatever else a creative teacher could think up. The Nephites, however, prayed a lot. Maybe I was alone on this, but I thought the Lamanites sounded like a lot more fun.

Well God didn't agree. God and Jesus are up in heaven watching all of this, and it pisses them off. So they decide to punish the Lamanites by turning their skin red. This is the apparent origin of the Native Americans.

As you can imagine, some Native Americans don't take too kindly to this particular theory.

But what happened to the Nephites? I'm glad you asked! Turns out, those righteous Nephites didn't stay righteous for too long. They saw what a great time their neighbors were having and started doing the same shit. God decides to punish them too, and he lets the Lamanites kill them.

God certainly believes in tough love doesn't he?

-------

Don't miss the exciting conclusion where we'll discuss some of the random goofy things that Mormons do such as wearing special underwear.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

The Stormin' Mormon, Part 2: Spaceman Jesus

Time to get to the good stuff. As I mentioned in my previous blog entry, Mormons have some pretty funky beliefs, but they don't really like to share all of the bizarre stuff until after you've been in the church awhile. That's why they don't like to offer up this little gem right up front:

God is an alien.

Well not just God, but Jesus is an alien too.

In fact, there are many "Gods," each of them is the master of his or her given solar system. And when a good Mormon dies, he or she gets to become a God of another world.

This was my favorite thing to learn about Mormonism. It pretty much sealed the deal on my decision to leave the church. Turns out, the God that we all know and love is on a planet that orbits a star called "Kolob."

The following is the Wikipedia entry on Kolob.

The first known reference to Kolob is found in the Book of Abraham (found in the Pearl of Great Price), which the LDS [note from Justin: That's Mormononics for "Ladder-Day Saints] Prophet Joseph Smith, Jr. claims to have translated from a set of Egyptian scrolls that accompanied a traveling mummy exhibition, which passed through Smith's town of Kirtland, Ohio in 1835. According to the Prophet, the scrolls described a vision of Abraham, in which Abraham:
"saw the stars, that they were very great, and that one of them was nearest unto the throne of God;... and the name of the great one is Kolob, because it is near unto me, for I am the Lord thy God: I have set this one to govern all those which belong to the same order as that upon which thou standest." (Book of Abraham 3: 2-3)

Yeah, our boy Joe is at it again. Now he not only has the magical ability to read ancient Hebrew, but also Egyptian hieroglyphs! I'm almost disappointed that the mummy wasn't involved in some way. Maybe he could have said that the mummy was really the remains of Darth Judas, the galactic traitor to Spaceman Jesus.

I love this stuff. It makes me wonder why Scientology gets such a public mocking, but the Mormon church gets a free pass. I mean, come on! The original creator of Battlestar Galactica, Glen Larson, actually used this as the basis for the original series. He turned "Kolob" into "Kobol" and changed most of the settings of the Book of Mormon to space, and that was the show! The new series doesn't really adhere to the Mormon theology, but the basic premise is still there. It takes some suspension of disbelief to buy this concept on television. It doesn't make any sense in real life either.

You really think you're going to become your own God? I find that a little suspect. Does that mean that "our" God was actually some poor shmuck on another alien world who got his chance in the big chair? Maybe we got the C-student of Gods. Sure would explain a lot.

Sounds like a pretty sweet deal doesn't it - becoming a God? Personally I find it a little too grandiose. Being the supreme ruler of an entire solar system sounds like a pretty big job. I can't even take charge of a classroom of 44 freshmen without fucking up something. My solar system would be the laughingstock of the galaxy.

Underling: "Excuse me, Lord Justin, the fjords have all collapsed and the people have all started having sex with tubers. The religious leaders are getting irritated."
Lord Justin: "Fuck it! Law & Order: Galaxy Defenders is on in 20 minutes. Just send a plague of locusts and tell them that God helps those who help themselves or some bullshit like that."

Just give me control of a small island or something. I could handle that.

Stay tuned for Part 3 where we'll discuss the apparent exodus of the "thirteenth tribe of Israel" and how the Native Americans became eeeeeeeevil!!

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

The Stormin' Mormon, Part 1: The Story of Joe


This is part 1 in a series of posts regarding my former religion.

Nothing is a breeding ground for comedy more than The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (commonly referred to as "The Mormon Church" or "The people who have those temples with the orgies"). Growing up in the church, I really didn't see anything wrong with it. After all, it was all I knew. But of course, as a child, you don't get to hear all of the interesting stuff about the church. You only hear the fun stuff that sounds like all the other religions. Once I got older, I became aware of some of the more.... unusual beliefs of the Mormon religon.

And I'm not talking about the polygamy thing. Let's get that out of the way right now. Only splinter groups of the church still practice that (though the history of why it was ever done in the first place is a fun little tale). That's too easy anyway. Everyone knows about that. Let's talk about some of the lesser known facts.

First up: Joseph Smith. Now this guy was a piece of work. He wakes up one day and decides that none of the existing religions are really his bag. He prays to God for the truth, and God sends the angel Moroni to Joseph in a vision. Moroni tells him that all the churches are false, and he tells him to start his own church. Moroni directs our buddy Joe to the woods to find The Gold Plates, upon which some lost scriptures are printed (re: The Book of Mormon).

So far, that's not really any more preposterous than any other religion. Hell, Jesus apparently turned water into wine! That's one helluva trick. Here's where the funny business happens.

Who should appear to Joe in the woods but God and Jesus. Not one! BOTH! This was a two-fer! They tell Joe that he can't show the plates to anyone. (Personally, I think this makes God and Jesus look like total pricks) So Joe goes into town proclaiming that he spoke to God and he has the TRUTH OF EXISTENCE!!

Well how do you suppose the townsfolk reacted? About the same way you would if some guy came out of the woods proclaiming that he had visions of God: this dude found some bad ganja! But our boy Joe is undeterred. He decides that he's going to translate the plates into English. So he gets his buddy Martin Harris to help him.

Here's how the system worked. Joe had a couple of "seer stones" (the book is a bit vague on where these came from) that he tossed into his hat. Joe would look into the hat, and then dictate the translation to Marty. This is one of those little factoids that the church likes to leave out. They say he translated the Book of Mormon, but they don't say how. They know it sounds like bullshit.

I think Marty started to smell the fecal matter too because he decides to take the book home one night. His wife convinces him to conveniently "misplace" the book. Her theory is that if Joe is telling the truth, he'll be able to reproduce the pages exactly from the seer stones. I have to admit, that's a pretty damn good idea. (This story, by the way, was made famous by a South Park episode. Check it out if you have the chance - it's pretty much accurate.)

So Joe's in a real bind now. But FEAR NOT YE FAITHFUL FOLLOWERS! God comes to Joe in a vision and tells Joe that the people are no longer deserving of the book they were working on (The Book of Lehi - for those keeping score). Joe should start writing the next book (The Book of Nephi - the first book in the Book of Mormon). You know the best part?? Marty buys this explanation!!

I imagine him going back to his wife with this story and her calling bullshit on it. He then smacks her in the face and says, "Quiet woman! You're my bitch and now his too! Go cook my dinner!" (Weren't the 1800's fun?)

The church fully acknowledges this story (of course, they don't tell it like I do). They acknowledge the next part too. Joe and Marty finish the translation and start spreading their Book of Mormon to the masses. Some of the townspeople demand to see the Gold Plates (common sense being around back then too). Joe says that God took them to heaven for safe keeping.

I kind of admire old Joe. He's a bullshitter extrordinaire! You can't learn skills like that.

I was aware of most of this story growing up. As an impressionable and trusting child, it sounded good enough to me. After all, everyone at church thought it was legit. Then I grew up, and suddenly something smelled fishy (and it wasn't fishes and loaves night in Jeruselem either). I swear, you have to wonder how anyone could buy this nonsense.

I must say something in defense of Mormons: they're really very nice people typically. You will not find a more generous and friendly (though often judgmental) group of people anywhere. Still, I don't think any of them are playing with a full deck.

UPCOMING MORMON TOPICS:
God is an alien
Fundie Undies
Mormonism and Battlestar Galactica
Native Americans are evil
The Word of Wisdom
Who wants to be a God?

Monday, November 20, 2006

Giving Thanks

Things I'm thankful for:

>> the record amount of porn on my computer!

>> I don't have smallpox.

>> Not having to spend Christmas in West Virginia (or as they call it "Time 'a year when maw makes the rhubarb grits and paw makes the moonshine eggnog")

>> Not having five speeding tickets yet.

>> New Aqua Teen Hunger Force!!

>> Not having back hair.

>> Students who are good enough at cheating that I don't catch them (the paperwork's a bitch).

>> Mocha freezes - the best drink since I found the Parrot Bay Passion Fruit Rum one weekend last year.

>> Four-Cheese-flavored Cheez It Crisps.

>> Wet naps after a good meal of buffalo chicken wings.

>> Being tall enough to look at most cleavage without getting caught.

>> Diet Pepsi

>> Banana-flavored runts

>> The power to cancel classes whenever I damn well please

>> Women with low standards and questionable morals

>> My medical insurance - When I lose 8 of my fingers in an accident, I can rest assured that the WVU health system will reattach 5 of them.

>> Friends who make me look better by comparison

Friday, November 10, 2006

Special Deliverance, Part 1



Living in West Virginia, I knew it was only a matter of time before I had an "experience" - something to drive home that hillbilly feeling. It all happened two days ago.

Prologue: I purchased cable from Adelphia three months ago, and as part of the deal, they gave me free digital cable for three months. So as any simpleton could figure out (sorry Fryar), the time recently came for me to return my digital cable box. I called the Adelphia corporate office, and the woman told me that the Morgantown office was on "15 Summer School Road." (Pay attention to that address. There's a quiz later.)

The Journey: So I Mapquest the address. It's about 20 miles south of Morgantown, but I wasn't doing anything important, so my journey began. I get off of I-79, and I'm immediately wary because I see a sign for "Hay Bale Road." This is slightly disconcerting, but I press on. After all, I'm in West Virginia. What can I expect?

Onward. I turn onto the next road, and there are farms everywhere. There are farms to the left, farms to the right, farms that are farming farms. That smell of hay and manure that years of growing up in Kittanning has made me sensitive to begins to waft into my car. I get to the next road that leads me up a small mountain.


So I get to the top of the mountain, and it feels like I've landed on another planet. I have a pretty good perch on top of this hill/mountain, and all I can see is trees; no civilization to be found. I could die on this road, and nothing but a wild moose would ever find me.

Believe it or not, I am actually still feeling optimistic at this point. Then I find my road: Summer School Road. The sign is a piece of wood with the letters painted on by hand. The "road" (and I use the term loosely) consists of gravel and leaves. Since I've come this far, I feel obliged to press on. The road, as you might imagine by now, does not lead me to Adelphia's Morgantown office. Instead, I nearly run over a chicken.

Yes friends; a chicken - right in the middle of the road.

I have inadvertently driven onto some yokel's property. It's not a farm - it's just a house with a chicken coup beside it. It's at this point that I sorta freak out. I decide that I've been lost in Appalachia long enough. I return home. Adelphia can shove their digital box straight up their ass.

Epilogue: So I get home and call Adelphia. I'm all ready to bitch them out; however, after 25 minutes of being on hold, I've calmed down somewhat. Well, the woman on the phone informs me that I had the road name wrong.

Remember that road name: Summer School Road? Yeah, that was wrong. Guess what it is.

Go ahead; guess.

Summers School Road

Turns out that Morgantown actually has both roads. This was a giant mental clusterfuck. I got lost in the Ozarks because some dipshit who names roads for a living got lazy and pulled the oldest Scrabble trick in the book by pluralizing the road names.

So that was my first "experience." I say "first" because I know it won't be my last. That's why this is called "Part 1."

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Cat Scratch Fever

I've been thinking about getting a cat. I haven't thought this through in any legitimate way, but I live alone, and my glorious pad gets rather dull sometimes. Perhaps a feline friend would liven things up from time to time.

Now don't get me wrong; I'm a big fan of dogs, but I think a cat suits me better. A cat and I would have a lot more in common. Allow me to elaborate:

Cats and I both nap often throughout the day.

We both eat excessive amounts of food.

We're both easily entertained by a ball of fluff floating in the air.

We both do stupid shit (falling off the couch, running into glass doors, tracking litter out of the box, etc.) and then act like nothing happened.

We both glare at people from dark spaces.

We both hiss at assholes who come in the door.

We both enjoy a good belly rub and purr when comfortable.

We both have fur on our ass.

Another thing cats have going for them is that they are a lot more independent than dogs. You can dump a trough-load of food into a bucket and leave for a week. The cat doesn't give a shit. The instant you walk out the door, the cat says "Finally, the asshole's gone!" and then tokes up on catnip.

A cat at any age is good too. Kittens are great because they're so damn stupid. You can trick a kitten into attacking its reflection in a mirror or chasing its own tail. Seriously, they're not that bright. Old cats are just as much fun. They start to go blind and deaf, so they pretty much turn into the feline equivalent of a schizophrenic hobo. They jump five feet if you switch on the light without warning. They also get really set in their ways, so you can screw with them very easily. If the cat always jumps from the chair to the windowsill, move the chair six inches forward. That fucker may claw your eyes out, but it's worth the entertainment.

So I may get a cat. The only problem is having to deal with the furry fuck if I ever go home for an extended time. My neighbors already see me as a nuissance. They'd probably have my head for leaving a meowing cat in my apartment. Who am I kidding? I can barely keep myself alive here let alone trying to provide for another life form. Those things live for like 20 years too. That's a pretty big commitment. Most marriages don't last that long.

On the other hand, chicks really go for kittens...

Sunday, October 29, 2006

I Fight Authority, Authority Always Wins

The Greeks saw hubris as the ultimate character flaw. That's why in most Greek tragedies, the hero loses as a result of overconfidence. In Christian mythology, pride is one of the seven deadly sins. A common proverb in the English language is "pride always comes before the fall."

Well, I fell like a prom dress at midnight.

I was driving to the IHOP tonight (the excitement that is my life), and I had to pick up Vivek. I get to his house, and the instant I step out of the car, I see that a sherriff's car is right behind me. Now, given the shady area of town that Vivek lives in, I could have assumed that he was there for any number of reasons, but I knew better. I knew that fate was catching up with me.

See, you can't just take on the law and expect everything to work out for the best. Anyone who's been reading this blog knows that I'm going to fight my third speeding ticket. I was feeling really confident about the whole thing too. I thought I was cock of the walk; strutting around, fluffing my plumage and such. The law had nothing on me!! I was invincible.

Until I got nabbed going 50 in a 35. Once more unto the lame speeding tickets, dear friends. This is the third time in a row that I've gotten pulled over for going 15mph over the speed limit, and it's my fourth ticket overall. I never speed on purpose, but somehow it just happens. Am I really the fastest motherfucker in Morgantown? Is my putzy little Escort really tearing up the roadways more than any other vehicle? How can I get two speeding tickets in the span of a month?

I know what you're thinking: Slow down assface! That's a valid assertion, but I'd like to offer a theory. There are no flat roads in Morgantown. Most roads are inclined at 45 degrees or more. These are some steep roads, and that steepness keeps accelerating my car without me realizing it. The last speeding ticket was right after a hill as well. No fool I. These cops are doing this on purpose. They know this as well as I do.

I brought some of this on myself of course. It probably didn't help that I had Officer Jed Clampett pull me over. He seriously got out of his police truck (not car), spit out his chewing tobacco, and said, "Where y'all in a hurry to, sonny?" Since I was parked at Vivek's house, I told him "Visiting a friend." He said, "Who's your friend?" And I said, "Vivek."

Now that's probably where I screwed up again. I should have said, "Bill Johnson," "Dick Goodhart," or "Bob Everyman." A name like "Vivek" certainly won't win me any favors with our tobacky-loving Appalachian friend. At least Vivek stayed inside. I'd probably be in Guantanamo by now if he came out.

Interestingly enough, I got another "I'll cut you a break" cop. He put down 45 in a 35 instead of 50. There's no way I can fight this one. This was a legitimate catch on their part, but I still don't get it. There are hundreds of underage college students drinking on High Street, vandals spraypainting everything they can find, and a sign thief on the loose (which is great, because he probably took the sign on the road I had to videotape). Yet these police have nothing better to do than constantly watch "The Speed Demon" as he commits his random acts of high velocity villainy across Monongalia County.

The Tally So Far
Police: 4 - Justin: 0

Thursday, October 19, 2006

Das Reboot

"Reboot, in series fiction, means to discard all previous continuity in the series and start anew. Effectively, all previously-known history is declared by the writer to be null and void and the series starts over from the beginning. It is analogous to the process of rebooting a computer." -- Wikipedia

As readers of this blog are aware, my current favorite show right now is the new Battlestar Galactica. This series, despite how totally kickass it is now, is based on a cheesy, goofy, campy, and ridiculous series of the same name that was created in 1978. The new Galactica is a complete reboot of this old series. The campy show was given a total overhaul that utilized the main premise but took the show in an entirely different direction. The producers consciously tried to make the show more realistic, edgy, shocking, and contemporary.

Well I thought it might be interesting to apply this same idea to a number of different shows. So without further ado, here are my ideas for reboots of old forgotten television shows that deserve a second chance:

Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood - In this new version of the classic children's show, Fred Rogers (played by Christopher Walken) hides out in his little house in order to evade the police. Instead of simply sitting on the couch and feeding his fish, this Mr. Rogers makes frequent trips to the Land of Make Believe where he teabags King Friday.

Full House - Danny Tannero, a former mob boss, must put up with his three gothic daughters after a rival mob boss kills his wife. He orders two of his most trusted men to live in his mansion to keep watch. All seems to go well until Uncle Jessie kills Joe in a fit of rage after he finds Joe and DJ in bed with Mr. Woodchuck.

Manimal - Dr. Jonathan Chase is a mild-mannered man who acquires the power to turn into any animal that he chooses. Instead of using his power for good, Chase uses his powers to unleash vengeance upon those who wrong him. In the pilot episode, a waitress accidentally spills Chase's coffee into his lap. Chase turns into a bear and mauls her. In another episode, Chase morphs into a boa constrictor and strangles Jehovah's Witnesses.

Clarissa Explains it All - Teenager Clarissa Darling is a problem child of divorced parents. Deaing with her heroin-addict mother and alcoholic father make her life extremely difficult. In an early episode, Clarissa gets knocked up by Sam, the syphillis-infected football star, and she must go to her brother Ferguson, a registered sex offender, to get an abortion. Clarissa's discussions with the audience often lead to minutes of angry ranting with candid discussions of her sex life and problems with anorexia and acid trips. The show airs on HBO due to graphic nudity and strong language.

Bill Nye the Science Guy - Having spent years explaining typical scientific theories, Bill Nye moves on to more... unusual ideas. He explores concepts such as cloning of pelicans, mutant supermen, growing multiple genitals, and using a cow brain as a car battery. Bill Nye, even as his friends try to get him psychiatric counseling, constantly pushes the envelope. The series is cancelled prematurely when Nye attempts to impregnate himself with the sperm of an emperor penguin.

The Pink Panther - In an attempt to bring in wider range of viewers, FOX reboots the old Pink Panther cartoons. The new Panther enjoys the homosexual lifestyle afforded by his ritzy New York fashion job. The storyline follows the Pink Panther's love troubles with the likes of Woody Woodpecker, Huckleberry Hound, and Snagglepuss. Although the characters resemble their original counterparts in most respects, the creators chose to make them anatomically correct leading some critics to wonder if they should really remain naked.

Saved by the Bell - Well... hmmm.... you know, I don't think any amount of reworking can make this show watchable.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

I'm Fighting the Law and I'm Going to Kick Its Ass

Okay, I was all set to plead guilty to my speeding ticket (see previous blog). I went to the county magistrate's office all ready to pay whatever was needed for going 29 in a 25. That was until the secretary told me that the fine is $170.00!!! What kind of clusterfuck law enforcement is this town running?? So I decided to contest my ticket. The secretary told me that I'd have nothing to lose but my time.

Well there's nothing I do better than wasting time. These people have no idea what they're up against. If I had any sense, I'd go pay this damn ticket and get it over with. Maybe it's my affinity for Law & Order. This is my chance to be Jack McCoy and pull some clever legal maneuvers. I can't help it.

The judge (or whatever she was) didn't seem to indicate that there was any kind of standard accepted speed limit, so maybe Morgantown doesn't have one. Both the judge and the secretary think I have a good argument if I can prove it.

The judge suggested that I take a video camera along the road to film the proof that there's no signage. This sounds like courtroom entertainment waiting to happen. These people don't have anything exciting going on. I mean they do speeding tickets every day. Just because my video has to be informative doesn't mean that it can't also be entertaining. Justice may be blind, but cripples have a sense of humor too.

So I'll have a court date sometime in December or something. I'm really looking forward to it actually. I apparently have absolutely nothing to lose. Apparently, if I lose my court case, the maximum fine I can be given is $100.00. I get 70 bucks knocked off just for saying I'm innocent!!!

Isn't America great?

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

I Fought The Law and the Law Won


An alternative title that I was considering for this post was "Third Time's a Charm." I was travelling into downtown Morgantown last Friday night on a road that I literally travel EVERY DAY. Perhaps I'm cursed (and that may be a serious consideration... but that's another story), but as soon as I got into the Morgantown city limits, I was pulled over by the police.

Long-term friends of mine are probably aware that I have been pulled over by the police twice before - both times for speeding. This time was no different. Chief Wiggum caught me going 42 in a 25. On the plus side, he told me he was going to "cut me some slack" by putting "29 in a 25" on my ticket. Why couldn't he save me a lot of trouble and just tear up the ticket? I'll tell you why - because Officer Barbrady probably checked his records in the car and found out that I've already got two speeding tickets.

Here's a little history. My first speeding ticket was completely ridiculous. I was going 35mph in a 25 zone on my way to school. Officer Ziggo (I'll forever remember that name) pulled me over. Apparently, the neighbors had complained about speeders on this lovely stretch of road in the peaceful hamlet of Kittanning. I have literally seen people going 55 on this road. I've been PASSED (quite illegally) on that street. But Ziggo decided to pull me over to teach me a lesson - a $110.00 lesson apparently.

Well my second speeding ticket was pretty legit. I wasn't paying attention and I got nailed going 72 in a 55. That's pretty fast. I grant that. One wonders, however, if I would have gotten off with just a warning if I didn't have a prior speeding ticket.

That leads to the latest ticket. Regardless of why the cop gave me the ticket, I now have it, and I have to deal with it. On my way into school on Monday (going a carefully regulated 25mph I might add) I happened to notice that NOWHERE on that road is the speed limit posted.

I was eccstatic! I was going to fight the law!! Rage against the machine!! How could I get a speeding ticket if I couldn't possibly have known the speed.

That is until I looked some stuff up on the Internet. Apparently, municipalities will have an "unwritten speed limit" rule written into the law. The speed limit is automatically whatever the city council deems safe in the absence of marked signs. That is some shady shit right there!

I thought I still might have had a chance given that Officer "I'll cut you some slack" wrote 29mph on my ticket. The Internet then informed me that officers will still note the actual speed in their records - probably to guard against irate citizens (such as myself) who have a vendetta against local law enforcement.

So before I even had a chance, the law already won the battle.

Maybe if I had shown off a little skin I might have gotten a break. This is a pretty liberal town. The cop might swing that way....

Thursday, September 28, 2006

Call of The Great Wall


On Monday, Chinese food was on my agenda for lunch. I had a craving, and I wanted it satisfied. So after teaching, Vivek and I went wandering down High St. in search of The Great Wall, a Chinese restaurant I had heard good things about. I had driven by this place several times. Looked sizable enough so we figured there would be plenty of seats. When we arrived, however, there were no seats or tables. They weren't just unavailable; they weren't there. This was only carry out or delivery. I'm not sure why they had such a large front room then. Maybe they just like space. But needless to say, we left disappointed. I didn't get any Chinese that day, but I did grab a menu.

Yesterday I still had a craving for Chinese, so I took a look at the menu. Apparently the place has an online ordering system (greatwallchinesefood.com). Since I was curious and didn't feel like decyphering whatever fresh-off-the-boat immigrant they had answering phones there (forgive my racist assumptions there), I gave the internet a try. I ordered some General Tso's Chicken, some rice, and an egg roll.

Over an hour later, my food had not yet arrived. I was irritated, so I called up the place. Surprisingly someone who sounded like an American answered. Unfortunately I found myself wishing it had been a Chinese person; this guy was a douchebag. He informed me in no uncertain terms that they never received my order. Balls to the Internet!! So I placed my order over the phone. I sit back and await my tasty chicken.

10 minutes later I get a call from the restaurant. It's the Asian-poser douchebag again. He can't figure out how to get to my apartment. Now, my apartment is a bit difficult to find, but it's not like I'm located at the center of the Earth. I spent ten minutes trying to explain to this guy where my apartmet is. Finally, I think he has it. I should have known better.

15 minutes after that, I get another call. This time it's from an actually Chinese person who's apparently on the road: "I have you food. You meet me at Dairy Mart at end of road in five minute!"

Now keep in mind that I've now been waiting about an hour and 45 minutes for my food. I'm hungry, and I'm paying a two dollar delivery fee for food that I HAVE TO GO PICK UP AT THE END OF THE ROAD. The pizza man had trouble finding my place too, but at least he made the attempt and eventually found it. This guy was on my shit list.

So I stalk around my apartment muttering like an old man as I search for my shoes. I'm going to let this guy have it. What kind of restaurant is this!? Off I go to the Dairy Mart.

When I get there, I see this rusted, busted-ass Honda pull into the place with the paint peeling off and a pathetic-looking "Great Wall" sign on the top of the car. The delivery boy gets out looking frazzled and tired. Suddenly I feel bad for the poor guy. He probably doesn't operate any of the telephones or computer software. Hell, he probably hates the douchebag phone guy as much as I do. So I smile politely, take my food, and tell him to keep the change.

That's right; after all of this, I actually tipped the guy. I have a heart every once in awhile.

I hope he spends that 75 cents wisely.

Too Short a Season

It's the beginning of the 2006-2007 television season, and once again I have my favorites all picked out. They're all returning favorites. The two new shows that I'm giving a chance this season are Jericho on CBS and Standoff on FOX. It's too soon to tell if these will be any good, but I expect great things from the usual suspects. So without further ado, here are my top five television shows for this year:


5. Smallville
I'm not sure why I keep watching this show. The first two seasons of this show were incredible. The storylines were involving, the characters were interesting, and the Superman mythos was constantly evolving. The show is just a shadow of its former self now. Nevertheless, I've been watching the show for five years now and I plan to keep on going. Season five was at least heading in the right direction even if the show still relies way too heavily on the "freak of the week" formula. He's fucking Superman! Give the guy an enemy that's going to challenge him! Brainiac was a good start. Ending the season with Lex Luthor possessed by General Zod and Clark trapped in the Phantom Zone certainly has my undivided attention. Metropolis is burning and the world looks like it's in for an ass whoopin. We'll see what happens on Thursday. (Smallville airs Thursdays at 9pm on the CW)


4. Law & Order
The original is still the best. Law & Order has been on the air for 17 seasons! Holy shit! My one brother isn't that old! I only got into this show last year with the repeats that run pretty much all the time on TNT. Perry Mason and Matlock can kiss my ass; Jack McCoy is the best damn lawyer that television has ever offered. If my loved one is ever shot up by a transvestite drug pushing pedophile, I'll know who to go to for the conviction. The "Law" half of the show has undergone a few changes this year with Detective Green being made senior partner and being paired with the first female detective on the show. The show lost some steam when the late Jerry Orbach's character Detective Briscoe was replaced, but it's the intriguing criminal plots mixed with complex social commentary that keeps me coming back for me. The season opener was impressive. I intend to keep watching. (Law & Order airs Fridays at 9pm on NBC)

3. Aqua Teen Hunger Force
I'm not sure what the hell happened to this show. It apparently hasn't been cancelled, but new episodes haven't been on since 2005. Adult Swim even promised an Aqua Teen movie that I have yet to see. This show is one that never fails to make me laugh. The bizarre characters, nonsensical humor, and completely social commentary-less plots never fail to make me laugh (okay, the brain spore episode was pretty bad, but that's just one). If you're wondering how these food products are capable of talking and wondering why they seem to interact with regular people with little difficulty, maybe this show isn't for you. They ran a detective agency for a few early episodes, but now they pretty much do whatever. If you can just shut down your brain and enjoy it, then you might stand a chance. Just be warned: They're not teenagers, they're not a force, and water is seldom involved. (Aqua Teen Hunger Force airs apparently at random on Cartoon Network's Adult Swim)

2. House
This is almost my favorite show on television, and a lot of people agree with me. This is one of FOX's highest rated shows, and everyone that I've convinced to watch it has loved it. In fact, I was converted by one of my old roommates last year. It's the best show that no one knew about. The show isn't about a House. It's not a sequel to This Old House. It's a show about Dr. Gregory House. He's the asshole cripple that you can't help but love. Trying to figure out his character is one of the best parts of the show. Dr. House is by no means a simple man. Even the staff can't figure him out. If you're going to give this show a chance, always keep the volume up and pay attention or else you'll miss House's classic one-liners. The show seemlessly blends humor, drama, and medical mystery. Each episode is self contained with a new medical mystery being presented to House in each new episode, but the characters are constantly changing and evolving to meet House's latest quirks. This season, House has apparently been cured of constant pain (which stems from a leg wound) and no longer needs his cane; nevertheless, he continues to rely on it for some reason. What's going on in his head? Well if we knew that, why the hell would we watch? (House airs Tuesdays at 8pm on FOX whenever the fucking World Series is over anyway.)

1. Battlestar Galactica
I take a lot of grief for liking this show, but always from people who have never seen it. They hear the name and immediately think of the cheesy 70's Galactica that's frequently derided on Family Guy and The Simpsons. But this new Battlestar Galactica is a completely different show. This is not a shoot-em-up space cowboy show. This is a serious show about the survival of the remnants of humanity. The show's premise is taken from the old show, but that's about it. There are 12 colonies of Kobol inhabited by humans. While the 70s show made these people look like rejects from a Shakespeare festival, the new show takes great pains to make these people as real as possible. The new Galactica approaches them as planets that developed very much like our own. The Cylons, robots created to serve human kind, attack the 12 colonies in the pilot leaving the Galactica, the last battlestar of the Colonial fleet, to guide the last remnants of humanity to the mythical 13th colony of (you guessed it) Earth. The best characters on the show are Admiral Adama (Edward James Olmos), the hardassed commander of the Galactica who takes absolutely no shit from anyone; President Laura Roslyn (Mary McDonnell), the leader of the civilian population of the fleet; and Dr. Gaius Baltar, the backstabbing, self-serving, Cylon-hallucinating, ego-maniacal collaborator who was partially responsible for the Cylons being able to destroy the Colonies (of course no one knows this for sure). This show would probably best be described as military science fiction. It takes a very realist approach to the entire genre. There are no laser pistols, transporters, holodecks, or whatever. These people are essentially humans as they are today if we could travel in space. When we last left the show, Baltar had been elected President of the Colonies and the fleet had settled on a harsh planet dubbed "New Caprica" believing it to be safe from Cylon attack. The season ended with the Cylon fleet showing up in orbit and Cylon troops marching through the main encampment. Season three will pick up with a Cylon occupation in full force and Admiral Adama planning a rescue operation. Maybe this show isn't for everbody, but it's my favorite show right now. If you don't like it, you can go straight to hell because I don't give a shit. (Battlestar Galactica airs Fridays at 9pm on the SciFi Channel [at the same time as Law & Order you might notice; something must be taped...])

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

The Fall of the Tall


I had a revelation this week: I'm going to die before you.

Think about it! When was the last time you saw anyone over the age of 70 who is 6'5" tall? That's right, NEVER! I think tall women are especially screwed, but men don't fare much better. Old people are short and frail; I am neither. Something kills off tall people before short people, and I'd like to know what it is. Why does longevity favor the midgets of society but the tall must be made to suffer?

I wonder what the cause of these early deaths is? A few possibilities:
>> Tall people tend to whang their heads on low doorways and lighting fixtures thus causing signficant brain damage over time.
>> Tall people are stretched out thus causing circulation or respiratory troubles as we age.
>> Tall people are more likely to strangle themselves by inadvertently running into clotheslines.
>> Tall people are easy targets for the insane, gun-weilding sociopath.
>> Tall people may be the tallest objects in the vicinity during a lightning storm, thus attracting most lightning bolts. Ironically, such deaths would probably be preceded by someone asking "How's the weather up there?"
>> Short people eventually take out their pent-up rage by poisoning the Metamucil of tall elderly people in the nursing homes.

I'm not sure who is to blame. Are we just naturally prone to death or do we have enemies that eventually thin out our numbers. Whatever the reason, this is cause for concern. Gather forth tall ones! We must unite to preserve our tall status!

Walk tall friends! (But just keep a look out for anyone who may be out to get us.)

Saturday, September 16, 2006

It Seems Like Forever Ago


I haven't been in high school for four and a half years!

It's been a good four and a half years!

This is in my brain because the Kittanning High School Band has decided to hold an Alumni Night in which any band student who graduated in the last 15 years or so can return.

At first I thought this wasn't such a bad idea; however, this isn't just a "let's sit around and bullshit while we eat food and drink heavily" kind of reunion. My former band director has decided that Alumni Night will consist of old band students getting together on the football field to PLAY a marching band song.

This was where I called BULLSHIT.

I haven't played my trombone since my high school graduation. Hell, I haven't even seen the thing in about that long. It's probably rusting in my parents' basement somewhere. Besides, I have no desire to get out in front of the yokel clientele of Kittanning and embarrass myself by playing some song from my "glory days" (it happens to be "The Race" for those who are in the know).

Then I starting considering the whole idea in general. What's the point? I still keep in touch with my friends from high school. The ones I didn't like, I'd rather not see again. Hell, every trip home seems like a Class of 2002 Band Fag reunion. Why should I make some kind of special (sober) effort to get together with them again?

Band was fun and all, but it's from a time that's long since passed.

Now, if someone were to throw a Band Alumni Buffet and Kegger, I'd say pop in the Eiffel 65 CD and call me a nostalgic bum!

Friday, September 15, 2006

Blog-verse Beware!


That's right Weberica! I've joined the Blogging world. Not content with the confines of an AIM profile, I've decided that my rantings and ravings require a more expansive venue. I'm not sure what I'll post yet. Maybe I'll dig up some old rants and save them here for posterity's sake. Maybe I'll just start berating my students and professors. That could lead to interesting outcomes. I'll just have to wait and see. Either way, it should be entertaining.

See you when I have something interesting to write.