Friday, November 30, 2007

World Domination

Last week I downloaded this little map for my blog, so I can see more or less where my visitors come from (you can see the map over on the right side). I’m surprised by a couple of things, like the fact that there are more than two people who read this, and that apparently someone in Portugal has seen my blog. I don’t think I know anyone in Portugal at the moment, but I could be wrong. Which leads me to a couple thoughts:

I know my sisters read this, and my friend Sam. But other than that I’m really in the dark about the rest of you. It’d be nice to meet you all though, so feel free to leave a comment, tell us as random story, etc. If you’re a crazy ex, or are in the process or stalking me, feel free to remain anonymous, too. Either way, no big deal.

Looking at the map of blog visitors and seeing that little red dot in Portugal really makes me feel like I’m playing Risk. I’ve just wandered into Europe from North America on my quest for world domination.

Everyone knows the key to world domination is Australia

So naturally what I’d REALLY like to see are more dots in more random places. If we could get a red dot in Africa, that’d be amazing. Australia? Brazil? Antarctica? Even better. So, if you have any friends on vacation, or if you know anyone living abroad, tell them to visit the blog. Shameless self promotion, I know, but I just couldn’t help myself.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Bobby Knight

Last Sunday I was at the Portland International Airport at 5 in the morning, waiting for my flight back to Salt Lake City, when I had an interesting celebrity encounter. I saw the Texas Tech men's basketball team, along with their head coach Bobby Knight. I didn't get to actually speak or interact with Mr. Knight, mainly because I'm absolutely terrified of the man, despite the fact that I'm a long time admirer of his work on the court. I'm not the type who likes to approach celebrities anyway, but usually just because I don't want to bother them, not because I'm afraid they'll belittle and/or choke me. A couple of observations:

At one point, Knight walked by a small child, probably 6 years old, and said something to him. As he walked away he was staring the kid down, with that stone-cold sober look on his face. Now, I'm sure he told the kid some sort of joke or something like that (and thought he was being funny by maintaining a serious look), but at that moment I realized Bobby Knight is one of those people who children have nightmares about. For me it was Darth Vader, but for that small boy at the airport it's Bobby Knight.

Then I realized that kids aren't the only ones who are afraid of Bobby Knight--I'm afraid of Bobby Knight too. If I ever came across him in a dark alley somewhere, I would honestly run for my life. It's not because I think I would lose a fight to him (I feel pretty good about my odds against anyone over 65), it's just that, for some reason, I can picture him going on a fishing trip with Darth Vader.

Monday, November 26, 2007

The Tragedy of Our Times

I hate to get too serious, so I'll try not to.

Yesterday I went to the laundry mat because (as is usually the case when I go to the laundry mat) I had a bunch of dirty clothes. Playing on one of the televisions at the laundry mat was a Mexican comedy show. If you know anything about Mexican comedies, you know that they usually implement the following elements:

Adults dressed as children.
Big breasted women whose primary function is in fact to have large breasts.
A total lack of anything funny.

This particular comedy included all three, especially the last two. In fact, I think that typically the number of large breasted women is directly proportionate to the lack of humor in the show.

What blew me away, however, was not the poor quality of the show. It was instead the empty, glazed over stares of those who were watching it. Imagine this look on the faces of 5 people, all sitting in a row:



When I returned home, my roommate was sitting on the couch with the same blank look on his face as he watched Miss Congeniality. Several hours later, after I had written two papers, folded my laundry, and cleaned my room, I went back into the living room to find my roommate in the same exact place, with the same look on his face, only this time he was watching The Matrix. I'm not sure if he even noticed that the movie had changed, he was just meeting his daily quota of mindlessly absorbing at least 4 hours of worthless media.

It makes me wonder, what are we doing with our lives? Are we okay with our daily routines; eating, sleeping, watching TV? When was the last time we learned something new? What was the last good, educational book we read (besides the latest Anna Nicole Smith biography)? When was the last time our world view was affected by exposure to new ideas?

Last night I decided I didn't want to waste my life sitting in a laundry mat, filling my head with mind-numbing nothingness.

Friday, November 23, 2007

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Like Christmas Wrapping Without the Tape

I was reminded today by one of my three readers that I forgot to write yesterday. It’s not that I forgot, I was just busy. Life has been kind of crazy lately, so let’s get right down to business.

Check out this website: http://www.whudafxup.com/

You’ve probably seen their ads on TV, they are all about how big tobacco is evil. They find neat and clever ways to show us “the truth” about tobacco. For example, it’s bad for you. These people are especially upset over the fact that big tobacco is allowed to continue selling their cancer causing products.

A couple of thoughts:

First of all, pointing out the fact that cigarettes are dangerous is kind of like pointing out that fire burns things. It’s fairly obvious, I mean, we don’t exactly need an entire advertising campaign designed to teach people “the truth” about how your stuff will be destroyed if engulfed by fire. Frankly, if someone doesn’t know that cigarette smoking is bad for them (and forget science, how about the fact that it turns everything yellow, makes you sound like Darth Vader, and leaves you unable to run more than 10 feet at a time? Shouldn’t that tell you something right there?) they deserve to face the consequences of their actions. Forget the fire analogy, how about this one:

THE TRUTH: Hostess makes millions of Twinkies every year . . . Twinkies that, when consumed, MAKE YOU FAT.

Do we need this ad campaign? Are Americans this stupid, really? Are there people sitting at home going, “Are you serious? I had NO IDEA those things were making me fat!”

Frankly, people who don’t know smoking gives you cancer, or that Twinkies make you fat, deserve to have cancer and be fat.

There is so much crap going on in the world—wars, famine, insane dictators destroying their own people, etc. With all that in mind, how do you wake up one day and decide that the problem that really needs to be fixed is big tobacco? Maybe these people have relatives who died after smoking for years. But ultimately those people still CHOSE to smoke.

Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. As a species we haven’t be able to move beyond war, find cures for cancer, solve poverty and starvation problems, provide health care for the poor, etc. We HAVE, however, walked on the moon (for no apparently reason, other than to do it before the Russians), invented breast implants, nose jobs and liposuction, and of course we decided it was important for a 90-year-old man to be able to have a 4 hour long erection, so we invented Viagra. These are the things we’ve decided to put our minds to.

Anyways . . .

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Anna Nichole Smith

First things first:

I am completely rededicated to my blog. I have neglected it for so long, mostly I think because my sense of self-importance has faded in the last few months. Lately, however, I’ve been convincing myself that maybe I have something important to say, so I’m back. I decided to write at least every Sunday, with a few reoccurring themes. We’ll see how it goes.

Now that I got that out of the way, let’s get started.

The other day I was shopping for some groceries (where does this word come from? I’ve never bought something that could be called a “grocery,” but somehow when I go shopping and buy a collection of food items, collectively they become “groceries” (the plural of grocery, something that doesn’t even exist. I mean, if you go to the grocery store, and only buy one thing, you can’t say that you bought “a grocery.” Anyways--) and I came across the honey section. I glanced over the honey, and noticed one with a celebrity spokesperson—Richard Petty. No, not TOM Petty, RICHARD Petty. To save you the trouble, it’s this guy:




Richard Petty was a Nascar driver BEFORE the Redneck population explosion forced this “sport” onto ESPN. He’s kind of like the Wilt Chamberlin of Nascar, without all the sex (I’m assuming).

Now, as a communications minor, I think a lot about things like advertising, marketing, etc. I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through the minds of those advertising wizards trying to decide what celebrity spokesperson would represent their honey:

Advertising Wizard #1: Hey guys, what about Richard Petty? He’s a creepy looking old guy who was famous 30 years ago for driving cars. I think that makes him a pretty qualified spokesperson.

Advertising Wizard #2: Randy, you’re a genius! People won’t be able to resist our honey when they compare it to other brands that DON’T having old race car drivers on the bottle!

As far as I can tell, Richard Petty would be a qualified spokesperson for 4 things:

Cowboy Hats
Sun Glasses
Denture Cream
And probably adult diapers

Today I was at my LSAT class in SLC, and one of the other students, an ex-policeman from LA, mentioned that a certain problem “confused the shit out of him.” (Pardon the language, but I have to be true to his original statement.). For some reason that struck me as being a really strange thing to say. I imagined him reading the problem, and then having the sense of confusion come over him SO strongly that he LITERALLY pooped his pants. The confusion forced “the shit” to leave his body.

I decided every week I should list 5 things that I’m grateful for, and (if I feel like it) a couple of things I’d change if I possibly could.

THINGS I’M GRATEFUL FOR:

1. Toilets—The other day I was thinking about technological advances, and how I was really grateful for them. Email, the internet, etc. They’ve really improved the exchange of information, more so than probably any other invention since the printing press. Then I sat down to go to the bathroom and I realized, wow . . . THIS is a piece of technology I should be thankful for. It magically takes your poop away so you don’t have to personally deal with it. So yeah, I’m grateful for toilets.

2. My body—This week was discouraging because I’ve been having some knee problems after I work out. But one day I realized I should be grateful just to have knees, even if they are the knees of an 80 year old slave laborer.

3. Sports—They’re just cool, no deep meaning here.

4. My major—For those of you who don’t know, my major is awesome. You don’t even realize. I love going to class, and it makes me excited to learn, not just now but for the rest of my life.

5. Bookstores—Bookstores are my favorite places on earth. That’s why I’m going to open a bookstore someday, but only with awesome books. No non-awesome books will be allowed.

For example (here’s something I would change if I could), the last time I was at a bookstore I noticed a display of books about celebrities. At least one of them was about Anna Nichole Smith, and was at LEAST 250 pages. Now, I could write everything you’d ever need to know about Anna Nichole Smith in about 2 sentences:

Anna Nichole Smith had huge boobs that made her famous. She the married an old guy for his money.

Technically all you really need to know is the first sentence. The second sentence is only if you choose to go on and get your Masters Degree in Anna Nichole Smithology.

But seriously, will all the amazing books in the world, what does it say about us when people are reading books like this? They couldn’t read something with substance or meaning, like a book about Pamela Anderson or something? I mean, common, Pamela is at least four times the big-breasted-bimbo Anna Nichole was!

Seriously people . . .