Thursday, November 16, 2006

Top This Weirdness

Did you know that right now, somewhere in Mexico, there are Mexicans working in a sweat shop playing video games. They are mining for gold or killing lizards for their skin or zarffing a zwolt or whatever the hell it is that they do in video games. Then, when they have amassed a bunch of gold or built a really cool tower or whatever, they auction it off on Ebay to the highest bidder for real money. No mierde. Some people are making hundreds of thousands of dollars a year selling cyber swords to cyber idiots. Is this a great country or what?

So, do you suppose they invest their money in the island developments off of the coast of the United Arab Emirants? There are people who are reselling houses that haven't been built yet on islands that don't exist yet, either. And the more times they're sold, the more valuable they get.

And here I am, thinking about earning a few extra bucks by advertising on my blog site.

ID Theft

This is a really freaky story, see. It’s about this guy that I’ll call...nobody. That’s how people who run in those kind of circles like to be called. So anyway, this nobody, he steals this other fellow’s identification. Got all the information he needed off the World Wide Web. He could’ve justified that this other fellow had plenty of money and would never miss a few grand. But then, why would a fella have to justify anything, especially if he’s just trying to get by in the world, if you know what I mean. So anyway, like I was sayin’, he steals this other fella’s personality, a dentist by the name of Larry Ingles. I mean, Larry Ingles. Have you ever heard a more white bread name? I mean, it’s just the kind of name... Well, you know that anybody who would be named Larry Ingles would have the kind of sex life that would make a penguin envious. And the truth of it was, Larry Ingles was really that way. I mean, he couldn’t back the car out of the driveway without pissin’ himself. I’m not kiddin’. I have no idea how he ever survived as a dentist. Maybe he was one of those idiot savants. You know, like Rainman, only with teeth. So, to tie all this in, when that nobody stole this loser’s ID, he actually became the loser. I mean, not only did he have his identity, but he had his entire life. Like, see, suddenly he’s standing in this guy’s bathroom starin’ back at himself in a mirror, only the guy he sees ain’t him. It’s this Larry Ingles guy. No f---in’ shit. And he realizes in a hurry that he had just better keep his mouth shut. I mean, you go tellin’ people that you’re somebody else... they lock you up. There was no problem with this guy’s wife. You know, they say most women can tell the difference between one man and another in bed? I don’t really know. After all, I pretty much guess all women feel about the same. You turn out the lights, dude, you could be with anybody. And I often am. But... um... oh yeah. So he was thinkin’ this other guy’s wife might know the difference in the sack, and he knows that he couldn’t turn down any... ever... if you know what I mean. But she has absolutely no interest in sex whatsoever. Just for shits one night he says, “How about a blow job?” And she spends the rest of the evening crying in the shower. Hell, I don’t know what half of that has to do with anything, but ... Oh yeah. This guy becomes a dentist. I mean, he is a dentist. He actually knows how to do it. And after a while, aside from his wife being just plain weird, he gets to really liking his job. Well, he’s getting a little strange on the side, but his wife certainly doesn’t give a shit. This guy really gets into cleaning teeth and drilling and stuff like that. Maybe it was the sadistic side in him. I mean, if you were some weirdo who got into hurting other people.... Wow. I mean, being a dentist is it. So one day... we’re talkin’ probably 19 years... he’s getting ready to retire. I mean, if you don’t see this one comin’, well.... I’ll tell you anyway. You guessed it. He gets his identification stolen, and he becomes this guy who is sittin’ on the sofa in his underwear trying to decide if he has time to masturbate before his wife gets out of the shower. Which makes him look even more incredibly stupid, because there he is, with his wang in his hand going for broke, when the police kicked open the door. I mean, there was no warning – Nothing. Well, nothing except ol’ whatshisname sittin’ there polishing his pipe, if you know what I mean. They haul him away for identification theft. Seems he had been tryin’ to steal all these people’s identifications. And he lived in one of those states that had a three strike law. You know, on your third offense, they lock you up until you’re so old that no one would screw you even if you could get it up. And, of course, they made sure he never got near a computer ever again. I guess that pretty well ties everything up, except that first guy that got switched. But then, I have no idea whatever happened to that dude.

Monday, November 13, 2006

Freedom Is Free

This is purely a case of linguistics. I'm talking about the bumper sticker. I've seen it on church marquees. I'm talking about the catch phrase: Freedom is not Free. This phrase has bothered me for a long time, because, like so many church marquees and bumper stickers, they sound good but they just don't make a lick of sense if you think about them. And I think I finally have a handle on it. Freedom, by definition, must be free.

To qualify myself up front: I believe, unfortunately, that from time to time we must defend our country and others. We must be prepared to stop aggressors and to prevent inhumane treatment of people everywhere. And, equally unfortunate, that will cost lives. My father was one of those who fought for what we call freedom. He was on Tiapan and Iwo Jima. He saw the famous flag as it was being raised. It messed him up. But I digress.

My father, like almost every veteran (maybe even me), has paid the cost for what we call freedom. It doesn't matter who pays for it. If it is paid for, it is not free. No argument on that point.

But, technically speaking, it's not freedom. We have limited rights. But we are not truly free. No one is. No one can be. I mean, are we really free to drive to Denver tonight? Certainly, I could, but I'd catch hell for it tomorrow. Well, I'd still be getting there tomorrow, but you get my point. My boss would wonder what the hell I'm doing in Denver. So would my wife. So would I. The point is, there would be a price to pay. There is always a price to pay. For anything. Go back to Econ 51. Opportunity cost. If you don't know what that is... Dude, get an education. Of course, that's not free either.

The point is, nothing is free. Therefore, there is truly no freedom. It's what we, in the linguistic business, call a utopic concept. However, if there were (freedom, that is), it would have to be free.

Wow. Was that as confusing as I think it wasn't?

And While We're on the Subject...

It's one of the curses of having a background in linguistics. When I drive down the road and I see bumper stickers... or church marquees... or whatever... I'm more inclined to ask, "What the hell?" For instance...

I've seen several billboards lately that say, "Embryos are babies." In these instances, white babies, but I digress. I realize what these people are trying to convey, their anti-choice, let a white, male judge decide which women should and should not get an abortion. But that's not my point. At least, not tonight. Begging to differ... Embryos are not babies. That's why they're called an embryo. If Embryos were babies, people would look at your newborn and say, "Oh, what a cute embryo!" The word embryo exists to denote a life form that cannot live outside the uterus. And if they can, hey! then they're babies.

While on that subject, I saw a license plate today that said, "Choose Life." What does it take to get a plate like that created? You know, they're like the ones that denote you're an alum, or have a purple heart, or that you're opposed to child abuse. Nothing wrong with any of those. But do you suppose the state would allow ones that say, "Choose abortion"? Or maybe "Have a choice"?

Have you notice the restaurants around town that offer a 10% discount on Sundays if you bring in your church bulletins? If you're an atheist, would they still give you a 10% discount if you brought in a blank piece of paper?

Speaking of church, if you blew up a Catholic church on a Sunday morning, would you have to use a weapon of mass destruction?

I was driving down Republic tonight, and I noticed Wesley United Methodist Church has a Kid's Club. Wow. That club must really suck. I suppose it wouldn't be so bad if you were that one kid, but how would you like to be all the other kids who can't join? Maybe someone ought to tell the pastor the difference between a plural possessive and a singular possessive. Or maybe not.

Meanwhile, down the street from Wesley, there is a church that has a sign out front that says, "We have a place for you." That's all I need. A bunch of evangelicals putting me in my place.

And finally, Nixa High School is putting on Joseph's Technicolour Dream Coat. Wow. Maybe somebody ought to explain the separation of church and state.