Internet Killed the Video Star

Sometimes I come up with a title that's just too damn clever for it to be original. Such is the case with this title. According to Google, 42,000 other websites have used it; however, if I learned one thing in grad school, it's that titles can't be copyrighted, so I'm plagiarizing it and providing a clever video.

In any case, the fall TV season is about to start in a few weeks, and I haven't been less enthusiastic about that since the highlights of my television schedule were Inspector Gadget and Double Dare. There are absolutely zero new shows that I'm interested in checking out. Of all the returning shows, only House is still appointment TV for me. The Venture Bros. won't be returning for its fourth season until Fall 2009, and Battlestar Galactica starts its new episodes in January 2009.

The only new Law & Order on this fall will be SVU, and I wasn't impressed with the most recent season. I may check it out every once in awhile, but I certainly won't make a point of watching it every week. Law & Order: Criminal Intent just finished its season on the USA Network, but I've never been a big fan of that series (although I watched the season finale last week, and it was pretty cool). Apparently Jeff Goldblum will be replacing Chris Noth's character in the next season, so maybe I'll give the series another shot then. The original Law & Order won't begin its 19th season (19TH SEASON!!! JESUS!!!) until January 2009 just like Battlestar Galactica, so my Jack McCoy/Admiral Adama fanfic will have to hold off until then.

I can say with some measure of pride that I finally kicked my Smallville habit during the middle of its seventh season. That abortion of a show strung me along for years before I could finally see that it wasn't going anywhere. The actors playing Lex Luthor, Lionel Luthor, Lana Lang, Martha Kent, and Jonathan Kent have all left the show. The show just won't fucking work without Lex Luthor. He was the only thing keeping me on board. I almost want to tune in just to see how bad it can get (and I've seen it get pretty damn bad), but I know that's just a path towards self-destruction. I'll stick with reading a few episode recaps on the internet, thank you very much.

Instead of watching new television shows, I've found a haven over at Netflix. I can rent the old seasons for any TV show that I want, and there are plenty of critically-acclaimed shows that I've never seen. I'm almost through the first season of The Wire, and as much as I hate to admit when everyone's right.... everyone's right. The show is amazing. The creator knows it's amazing too. If you listen to his audio commentary for any of the episodes, he raves about how awesome his show is so often that you begin to feel like you're listening to an auditory masturbation session. Seriously, I think I have commentary cum in my ear. (HAR! Disgusting metaphorical imagery! Thanks Masters Degree!)

On my Netflix list, I've also reserved the first seasons of Boston Legal, The Office, and 30 Rock along with quite a few movies. I've heard great things about all three shows, but I've never watched them regularly. That should fill up some of my TV time.

Alternatively, I could always commit myself to becoming a bigger football fan. I enjoy watching the Steelers play most of the time, but if no one else is around, I'm more inclined to surf the internet, watch old reruns of Law & Order, or eat a gallon of pudding. I've finally gotten to the point where I can watch a game and know most of what's going on, and I even get excited during the games. I finally went to my first Steelers game at Heinz Field last night, and I enjoyed myself. But I just don't get the same rush out of watching every football game that my friends from Kittanning seem to. I claim that they're obsessed, but then I remember that I know how the stardate system works on Star Trek, and I shut my mouth.

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"If we don't teach our kids to read, how will they ever know what's on?" - Family Guy (back when it used to be good)

In Blog We Trust

Sweet Infinity Shot

One of the annoyances of not having future plans comes from everyone asking what my dream job would be. Sometimes I'm given this question in the form of a hypothetical: "If money were no object, what would you do for a living?"

It's really a stupid question when you think about it. What ignoramus doesn't consider his or her financial opportunities before launching into a career? But given the constraints of the question, and after considerable thought, I'd have to say that I'd probably write this blog for a living.

Now wait a minute!! You in front of the computer screen laughing derisively and calling a nearby friend, colleague, or roommate to help you mock the delusional blogger. I know you're wondering how I could possibly consider blogging as a career when I post on an average of twice a week. (Check the menu on the right-hand side. Almost every month has eight or nine posts... August is a notable weak spot.) Well, I don't actually think I could do this for a living. But we're talking about the hypothetical question, remember?

I sometimes think about the future of this blog. After all, the thing has been up and around for over two years now. As far as I can tell, my readership hovers somewhere between 20 and 30 regular readers, and I know just about every one of you in real life. Of all the people who regularly comment on my blog, only "The Shit" and "Aardvark Man" stand out as being people I can't readily identify. Naturally, the only two outsiders who read my blog are a hostile agitator who berates me once a fortnight and a deranged lunatic who escaped from Dr. Seuss's brain while he was using acid (Yark Yark Yark Snork Flargle Bizpin Gagplorp).

I do get occasional comments from other people that I don't know, and with one or two exceptions, they're all offended or disgusted by what I've written. For instance, I have a comment under "The Stormin' Mormon, Part 1: The Story of Joe" that calls my fact-checking into question and implies that I'm obsessed with my former religion. In a comment for "An Apology to Dora and Diego," an angry reader indicates that I'm an ignorant bigot. In "Thus Sayeth The Douchebag," I've already commented on some guy who claims that I'm a juvenile grad student.

A few days ago, I was checking the comments on some old posts, and I discovered three new comments under a post I'd completely forgotten about: "Have Carrot - Will Travel." In that post, I mocked an article from the WVU student newspaper about these two hippies who were making a cross-country trip in their vegetable-powered bus. I made fun of their dirty clothes, their parentage, and maybe (just maybe) made passing reference to the woman being a slut. Well I'll be damned if the woman from the photograph didn't find that post. There's a comment from an "OhSoFunny" that berates me for being an ignorant chauvanist. This commenter identifies herself as the woman in the picture, and she didn't appreciate me belittling their veggie-bussing lifestyle. Two days later, a friend of theirs posted another comment. This one said, "I really think you should stay in West Virginia where prejudice is common and accepted because those kind of thoughts in a 'liberal' society (such as San Francisco) aren't tolerated. You are a close-minded redneck and judging you on your words I think that you should go watch Nascar and eat some KFC and maybe chew some tobacci..." Granted, this was not one of my better posts; it was pretty much just a cliche-filled rant about hippies. And it may have been rather mean-spirited. AND I may have made some passing reference to the woman's boobs and implied lascivious behavior on her part. But dammit, I had to defend my post. If there's something wrong with eating some KFC, then I don't want to be right. You can read my reply here (scroll to the bottom).

I may sound proud of all of this, but I'm kinda upset that I actually offended someone. It's much easier to mercilessly belittle a person when they have no idea that you're doing it. Of course, my identity still remains gorgeously anonymous, so I'm not losing much sleep over it. :)

Clearly I'm not inspiring a swarm of outside fans though. I visit other blogs and see hundreds of comments with contributions like "You hit the nail on the head with that one!" "You are such a great writer!" or "If I see you in real life, I'll give you a blowjob" from completely random people. I know my friends and family like what I write, but I'm clearly not capable of bringing in enough people to make actual money-dollars from this blog.

And I'm not terribly surprised given the content. The blogs that receive the repeat viewings all have a theme. You can find blogs about politics, religion, comic books, movies, specific TV shows, bands, education, naked people, toilets, dryer lint, tequilla, sports, and guys named Frank. My blog can't be categorized. I blog about whatever comes to mind, and while that creates a nice variety, that's not what sells. Being successful on the internet means being able to link your blog to other similar websites. I'm not the authority on any topic. I'm a jack of all topics but master of none.

But I rather like it that way. I like being able to jump onto Blogger to rant and rave about the latest bit of minutae to slip through my brain. If I want to bitch out my landlord, I can do that. If I want to put down the entire political process, no one can stop me. If I want to do a breakdown of movies like "Deathbed" or "Santa Claus Conquers the Martians," no censor will change my words. If I have a bug up my ass about automatic hand dryers, this blog will act as the exterminator. The fact that ANYONE reads my blog makes me happy - even if those who read it think that I'm a close-minded, chauvanistic, redneck asshole.

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9 out of 10 readers have now realized that they actually are NINE out of a total of TEN readers.

A Fond Farewell From My Landlord

I used to like my apartment complex when I lived there. The buildings were nice, and the landlord seemed relatively helpful. Batmite and I were able to create our own personal nerd haven of video games, TV, and tasty treats in this space. The landlord left us alone unless major shenanigans were afoot in the complex. She seemed nice enough. Granted, there was the time that their faulty toilet resulted in a $230 water bill, and my hot water heater always made an obnoxiously loud whistling noise whenever you flushed the toilet, but overall my experience was relatively positive.

Then today I got my security deposit back... or what was left of it. The initial security deposit for my apartment was $600. I got back $180. My former landlord is an asshole.

Along with the meager remnants of my security deposit, the landlord graciously sent a list of charges. The most expensive was the carpet cleaning: $240.00!! It's not like my apartment was the size of the Sistine Chapel and wallpapered with carpet. It was a modestly-sized domicile with carpet in the living room and two bedrooms. And the carpet wasn't filthy either. There was the usual wear and tear from everyday walking but nothing major. If I had known that she was going to let Stanley Steemer rape me so thoroughly, I would have rented my own damn carpet shampooer and done the job myself. It couldn't have cost me more than 50 bucks.

But the fun didn't stop there. Then I saw the charge from Superior Painting for what is simply called "Touch-up" - $100. I figured the paint might be a bit of an issue. I had some nail holes from pictures in the wall, and I hung some curtains in my bedroom at one time. I patched the holes, but the colors were slightly off. But for a hundred bucks, I could have given the entire apartment five coats of any paint they wanted. A can of touch-up paint is like five bucks, and there were maybe five tiny spots that needed it. In retrospect, I should have done it myself anyway.

The final insult was the cheapest charge, but it pissed me off the most - a cleaning fee of $80.00. I finished packing up my stuff around noon on the day I moved out, but Batmite was packing until like 7 p.m. While he packed, I cleaned that apartment as though incriminating evidence could be found on every surface (and given what I'd do alone in my bedroom sometimes, that may have been true). I scrubbed it from top to bottom. The OCD that I have with regards to keeping things clean was unleashed in an alarming manner. I bleached and scrubbed the bathtub, toilet, sink, and bathroom floor. I dusted the ceiling fans and baseboards. I washed the windows and sliding glass doors. I vacuumed the floors and even used the hose attachment to get against the walls. The refrigerator and microwave were both throughly cleaned and sterilized. All the counters and cabinets were washed inside and out. The tiled floors were mopped. I even cleaned the washer and dryer and wiped the inside of the goddamn lint trap for crying out loud. My dad gave me grief at the time for going WAY overboard. When I left that apartment on Saturday night, the place was SPOTLESS!!!

For the life of me, I just can't figure out what the cleaning woman did to earn $80. I fully suspect that she walked in, looked around, decided everything was done, and called my landlord to tell her that she cleaned it all herself. I thought the carpet cleaning and painting were WAY WAY overpriced, but I at least understood why it was done. The $80 cleaning fee is almost like a slap in the face to the six-plus hours of work I put into cleaning that shithole. If I had known that I'd get charged anyway, I would have left everything as it was and took a big dump in the middle of the living room.

I know why the landlord is willing to fuck me over. She knows full well that there's nothing I can do about these charges. I can call and complain, but what incentive does she have to pay me? I don't live there anymore. I also don't have any proof that there was nothing wrong since I didn't take pictures before I left. She could just claim that she and her crackerjack crew fixed everything. Furthermore, I can't take legal action because the costs would dwarf the funds that I lost. The amount she charged is just large enough to piss me off, but not large enough to warrant serious action. The best I can do is bitch about it on here.

However, to the people I know who still live there - beware the apparent benevolence of Ms. Carol Harbert of the Pinnacle Height Apartments. Make sure you take care of everything yourself before she metaphorically takes you into her financial toolshed and has her way with your pocketbook.

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Ms. Carol Harbert - Her name deliberately used twice now in the hopes that she'll one day Google her own name and encounter my virtual ire. I specialize in passive-aggressive vengeance.

To See or Not To See

It's rare for me to make two posts in the same week let alone the same day, but such glaring and stunning stupidity cannot go unreported.

As anyone who has spoken with me in the last few months is well aware, my job hunt has been less than fruitful. I've received three rejection emails and one phone interview that led to another rejection email. While I appreciate the feedback, these are not the results I was hoping for. I couldn't figure out the reason, but I do believe I'm stumbled across something that might begin to explain my less-than-stellar success.


I've sent out 28 job applications so far. Way back when I sent out the first one, I spent a considerable amount of time making sure that my initial cover letter and resume were in excellent shape. My mom was of considerable help. WVU's so-called "career center" less so. In any case, I thought I had my cover letter in very reasonable shape when I sent out my first job application; therefore, when drafting new cover letters for new jobs, I was using that first letter as a template and altering the information accordingly.

This is how all 28 cover letters begin:
"I was delighted see the job posting on [wherever I saw it] for a [whatever the job is], and I believe that I would be an excellent fit for this position."

It looks fairly nice until you realize that I left out two little letters that actually help to form a complete sentence: TO! The first part should read, "I was delighted TO see the job posting..." I went back and checked all the old cover letters, and much to my horror, I discovered that this typo survived into every.... single.... one! Now some of you might think that this isn't such a big deal. After all, it's just an innocent typo. Except that I'm applying for WRITING positions. In some cases, I've even applied to be a goddamn proofreader!! My cover letter and resume go on to explain how impeccable my grammatical and writing skills are. Fucking incompetent!!!

It kills me that this mistake just wafted through so many revisions. I've screwed up a few individual cover letters. For instance, I recently applied for a position at a Registrar's Office in Washington PA, but after I sent off my application, I realized that I spelled it "Registar's Office" all through the damn cover letter. Fortunately, the position was filled already, so my ridiculous mistake didn't matter.

But that was just one gaffe. I don't know how to explain this other one; and it's the first damn line too! I wonder how many HR people saw that first line and assumed me to be an idiot. I guess my mind just filled in the word "to" without really registering that this priceless little conjunction wasn't there.

At least I can rest peacefully knowing that these 28 companies aren't undervaluing me. They have a very accurate understanding of my writing skills.

I guess I just needed see that.

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I am to stupid too get a job.

A Completely Unwarranted Foray into Politics

Election time is about to kick into high gear with Barack Obama expected to announce his vice presidential candidate this week, and despite my best efforts to develop an interest in the candidates, their issues, and the political situation around the world, I just can't bring myself to give a shit.

This unbridled apathy has nothing to do with these specific candidates. I've NEVER been able to work myself into a frenzy about any political issue. Religious issues are another matter. I'll bitch and moan about organized religion and imaginary deities and debate such issues with anyone willing to put up a good fight until the day I die and go nowhere. But following politics seems like the biggest waste of time to me.

This is not to say that I don't have preferences. I tend to favor the democrats most of the time. This is mostly due to the republicans' gradual shift toward embracing fundamental religious values. Republicans love to say that God is on their side. Well you know what? If God is on their side, I want to be on the other side. I don't care who the opposition is. I like the idea of taking on God and his heavenly hierarchy.

But as far as the actual issues are concerned, I don't fully side with either political party. When left to their own devices, Republicans tend to develop a militaristic attitude toward foreign affairs and a penny-pinching mentality toward domestic economic policies. Democrats, on the other hand, will spend money on completely inane programs in an attempt to control things that can't (or shouldn't) be controlled.

I've read very intelligent, rational, and thought-provoking material from conservative and liberal writers. I like a writer who's willing to say, "Look, I think the opposition raises a good point, but this other way is the best solution that we can practically do at this time." The issues are complex, but voters don't want to hear about complexity. They don't want legislators to compromise; they want THEIR idea to be implemented NOW!

Take global warming for instance. Very few people are arguing these days that there is no climate shift, but there seems to be no agreement on what to do about it. Awhile ago, I learned about cars being powered by corn oil. I thought to myself, "Hey, this seems like a cool idea! Corn is a renewable resource that grows every year. This is great." Then someone brought to my attention the fact that the amount of farmland needed to produce enough corn for the number of cars in the world is staggering! According to Wikipedia (hardly a credible source, I know, but they cite other scientific studies), in order to use 100% solar energy to grow corn to produce ethanol, the consumption of ethanol to replace current U.S. petroleum use alone would require about 75% of all cultivated land on Earth, with no ethanol for other countries or sufficient food for humans or animals.

I don't know whether that's true or not, but I don't really care. The point is that it's a complex issue, and there will need to be compromise regarding the solution. So all of you guys out in the far-right and far-left fields, guess what? The right answer is somewhere in the middle. And you know what else? Sometimes the right answer is a compromise that pleases no one. Back in the 18th century, the drafters of the Constitution had long and heated debates over the legality of slavery in the newly formed United States. As you might imagine, the delegates from the Northern states favored abolition while the Southern representatives wanted to keep making black folk do their bidding. Neither side would approve the Constitution without their views being represented. Compromise was absolutely necessary. The damn country never would have been formed without the delegates agreeing to allow individual states to decide on the issue of slavery. This obviously came back to bite them in the ass 100 years later, but at the time, there was simply no other way to handle the situation. Sometimes the right decision is also the wrong decision. It sucks (and can create a cognitive dissonance that might cause you to piss your pants and punch a kitten in frustration), but it's often true.

That's why I don't want to vote for a single party. I think both parties are needed. The democrats keep the republicans from shitting all over the Bill of Rights and from pissing off the rest of the world, and the republicans keep the democrats from pulling all power away from the state governments and from coming up with new ways to spend money that don't make any damn sense.

And I just don't care. The struggle of "Conservative" vs. "Liberal" will continue to be waged no matter who wins, and the struggle itself is what is most important. If you study the history of any country, you'll see the same arguments going on at any time. Roman and Greek philosophers would lament high taxes, the ineffectiveness of the Senate, the corruption of the emperor, unethical wars, etc. It's the same shit we bitch about today. Take a look at some of Mark Twain's stuff. A lot of his political and social commentary still holds water over a century later.

Hell, back in 1776 when Thomas Paine wrote Common Sense, he said that the best government would be run by a benevolent dictator. A representative democracy was simply the best thing that they could come up with that had any chance at stability. Everything happens really slowly, but that same tedious process of debate and investigation that annoys so many people is what keeps a few people from making trendy but ill-considered government changes.

That's why it won't matter. Hell, George W. Bush has one of the worst presidential approval ratings in history, but he didn't really fuck up the country THAT much because the other side was there to bitch him out. And if my predictions are correct, Obama will be elected in November (because the economy is in a recession and people always demand political change during a recession), and the cycle will begin anew. The wind will continue to blow back and forth, and when I'm on my deathbed, the political climate will probably look a lot like it does right now.

Or maybe sadistic emperor penguins will be ruling the world. I dunno. This is why I don't blog about legitimate topics. I seldom know what the hell I'm talking about.

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Politics: A topic that should be left to bloggers who actually have a readership of more than 20 people.

Sing Us A Song, Karaoke Man!

Hello. My name is JP and I'm a karaoke whore.

Yes, you heard correctly. This Star Trek loving, cartoon-watching, single, unemployed blogger doesn't think he's completely proven how truly uncool he is. Karaoke has to be added on to this epic pile of social dysfunction.

On Thursday night, I joined Batmite, Virgil, and Virgil's friend (referred to as D/B on her blog) at the bar down the road. As luck would have it, Thursday was karaoke night! Batmite and Virgil were well aware of my predilection for making a fool of myself in a lyrical fashion, so they badgered me into signing up for some songs. I think they were hoping to make a fool of me (as any good friends would), but the crowd was quite receptive even though I wasn't a stunning singer.

Frankly, though, I don't really care what people think of my karaoke. I really enjoy doing it, but I'm not sure why. I'm not usually one to jump on stage to entertain the masses, but give me a bounded collection of outdated pop songs, and I'm more than happy to badly croon into a microphone like Frank Sinatra's deaf second-cousin. I think my love affair with karaoke represents my inner child screaming, "EVERYBODY PAY ATTENTION TO ME!!!" My blog serves this same function.

The sad part (as if it could be any sadder) is that my singing is usually well received by the crowd even though I'm not a talented vocalist. The secret to success at the karaoke bar is to choose songs that fit your vocal range. I can't really do high vocals, so I tend to avoid them. But more importantly, you have to be confident in what you're singing. If you can stride up to the microphone and BELIEVE that you can sing Duran Duran or Billy Joel, then goddamn it, the patrons will love it.

Booze helps too.... the more the bar folks have to drink, the more they love what you sing. About a year ago, I was singing at a local bar near Kittanning and the teleprompter suddenly started going all fuzzy so that I couldn't read the words. Fortunately, I knew the words to the song ("Interstate Love Song" by the Stone Temple Pilots if you're interested), so I kept right on singing. After I finished, this burly bearded guy comes up to me and says, "Did you know the words or could you actually read that gibberish on the screen? Cause if you could read that, I'll buy you a beer!" My opportunistic side easily triumphed over my honorable side, so I replied, "Oh I could totally read it!" The burly fellow shouts to the bartender: "Hey!! Get this guy here a beer on me!! He can read anything!!"

My singing has even garnered the attention of some drunken bar floozies. Granted, they may have been mocking me or using me to make their boyfriends jealous, but I'm easily flattered and will take any excuse to inflate my already swollen ego.

As for my personal intake of booze, that depends on the situation. If the crowd is really into it, then I'll sing sober. I've done it before. I'm high on my love for trashy 80s songs and attention. But if the crowd is less than enthused about the karaoke, I can still be persuaded to get up and belt out a few tunes if I get enough liquid courage in me.

My repertoire typically consists of stuff from 20 or 30 years ago, but not always. Here are some of the ones I tend to sing:
"We Didn't Start the Fire" - Billy Joel
"Sold (The Grundy County Auction) - John Michael Montgomery
"Sweet Caroline" - Neil Diamond
"The Gambler" - Kenny Rogers
"The Asshole Song" - Denis Leary
"Centerfold" - J. Geils Band
"Johnny B. Goode" - Chuck Berry
"Piano Man" - Billy Joel
"Only the Good Die Young" - Billy Joel
"Paradise by the Dashboard Light" - Meatloaf
"Safety Dance" - Men Without Hats

There are some things I'd like to sing that I don't think I'm capable of. I'd love to be able to sing some Journey, but I just don't have the chops to pull it off. There's nothing worse than listening to some poor shmuck butcher "Open Arms" or "Don't Stop Believing." No one wants to hear that. Elton John would be fun to sing too, but he's got some intense vocals that intimidate me. I'll leave the good stuff to the flamboyant professionals, thank you very much.

Thursday night was just like any other night as far as karaoke was concerned. It was only the second time that I'd sung in Morgantown, and Virgil and D/B were highly interested in seeing me debase myself by singing "Don't Cha" by the Pussycat Dolls. I think they were trying to see if they could embarrass me, and truth be told, I didn't really want to do it; however, I would have totally sung the song just to see if I could pull it off. It wouldn't have been very good, but I would have put on a damn good show. Fortunately for me (and perhaps unfortunately for them), we all started to get kinda tired, and the song queue was pretty long, so we left before my next turn came up.

What a shame.

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Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like JP?