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Can I be the first to say that I don't care if some celebrity what's-his name-died? 

6/10/2014

 
What is up with our fascination with celebrities?

It's not enough that we idolize people who can act - even if it is really really well. We have to hold them in some sort of reverence - for that? He's not freaking madame curie.

Don't get me wrong. The passage of Harold Ramis/Philip Seymour Hoffman is lame. Whenever someone passes off this mortal coil too soon, it's awful. I feel for those that knew him. I do - BECAUSE THEY ACTUALLY knew him. I did not. And so I hear that and go "aw."

But dare I say it --- People die every day. Some of whom I actually know.

Is our desire to be a part of a shared consciousness so great that we are willing to play out our emotions when someone we never met but saw in a movie once dies? If this is the future, woe be to that. How much greater should our horror be when someone we actually know dies?

And what of the other list of important people who died today?
A soldier in Afghanistan
A Pregnant lady who was hit by a car
An uncle we have fond memories for

Why do we revere Ramos and the like - who did neat things and had a horrible disease, or died because they snorted too much, shot up with too much, were so misunderstood, passed away too soon but were famous, or semi-famous, or about to be famous? Is their tragedy so much greater than any of a thousand more who deserve our sympathy but get nothing?

And to this I say "harumph."

Too soon?

Banjopocalypse Featured on YANSS

2/19/2014

 
Gerald McRaney's excellent blog features Banjopocalypse this week as he explores the Benjamin Franklin effect: http://youarenotsosmart.com/  February 19, 2013. See Banjopocalypse

McDonald's HR Script Suggestions

9/8/2013

 
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Justin Bieber and Type II Diabetes.

8/18/2013

 
3 ways “Beiber Fever” Is Like Type 2 Diabetes

Pop star Justin Bieber has sold his music all over the world, and is one of the hottest stars anywhere. So how is BieberFever like Type 2 Diabetes?

  1. Justin Bieber and Type 2 Diabetes are both very common. Justin Beiber has 27 million followers on Twitter. According to the American Diabetes Association, Type 2 Diabetes occurs in over 25 million Americans. Coincidence? I think not!
  2. Like Bieber Fever, Type 2 Diabetes is avoidable. While 13-year old girls flock to Justin Bieber concerts and Type 2 Diabetes has a similarly meteoric rise in incidence rate in America, it doesn’t have to be this way. You can avoid buying the $150+ tickets, and avoid certain foods and exercise more. Like running away from Justin Bieber. That would be good. 
  3. Type 2 Diabetes is treatable by injection; Justin Bieber may be similarly treatable. Insulin injections prevent hypoglycemic shock. Some literature is beginning to show that Type 2 Diabetes may be curable, but most people with Type 2 still treat with daily insulin injections as necessary. Similarly, injections of Maroon 5 or even Coldplay may reduce your risk of Bieber Fever.



Be sure to eat right, exercise, and try to avoid sugary, tasteless Pop Stars in favor of more flavorful and healthy musicians and food choices.

The Fiscal Cliffs of Insanity

12/20/2012

 
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The Princess Bride and Government Inaction

In the classic 1987 movie The Princess Bride, the main character Wesley, as “The Dread Pirate Roberts,” chases Vizzini and Fezzik up the “Cliff’s of Insanity.” With all this talk of fiscal cliff, it’s natural to compare the two.

Actually, the comparison fits better than you might think. The cliffs are dubbed “The Cliffs of Insanity,” replacing the descriptor “fiscal” in our modern kidnapping of the budget –er, Buttercup-  of the United States of Florin, er, America.

It really is insanity, isn’t it? Our elected officials are spending December jousting over a budget crisis they created, all the while insisting that the other side is intractable. It’s like our country has somehow granted two children the right to “defer” their argument on the piggy bank’s contents until December, but they’ve been able to spend money all year. Fiscal? Not very. Henceforth, everywhere the word “fiscal” or “budget” appears, it shall be replaced by the word “insanity,” for crazy it is. By royal decree I make it so, like Prince Humperdink’s decree to marry Princess Buttercup.

The Players and their roles:

John Boehner: shall play the slow but gentle giant Fezzik. Boehner proposed a plan that cuts Medicare and Medicaid, healthcare, and social programs. “What we're putting forth is a credible plan that deserves serious consideration by the White House and I would hope that they would respond in a timely and responsible way.” I really wish he had added “That’s all I have to say.” That would have been perfect. As speaker, Boehner is taking the issue entirely upon his shoulders, and he has the strength of the Republican party to do it. Unfortunately, the proposal of cutting needed programs is the equivalent of dirt dumb. Fezzik does his job as “heavy” for the plotting and scheming by the privileged in the story, but his position is flatly wrong, and you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know it. Boehner, unlike the loveable Fezzik, seems to do it willingly.
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Let’s not forget the six-fingered man’s part in all of this. Count Rugen, portrayed in our merry play by Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell, leads with sarcasm, laughing as Geithner’s proposal is outlined. Of course, he says he meant “no offense.” Isn’t it a bit disingenuous to burst into laughter when someone is speaking, and then claim that you meant no offense? Mitch McConnell is practically channeling Christopher guest, the actor who plays the sneering Count Rugen.

Another odd parallel: Count Rugen made a mortal enemy in Inigo Montoya by cheating Inigo’s father of the money he promised him. We might consider our future generations in casting Inigo, but this is a play, so we’ll have to cast someone relevant to today.

For Inigo Montoya, the Spanish Swordsman extraordinaire himself, we cast two characters: Timothy Geitner and Jay Carney. They’ve alternated their fencing duties so far, as Inigo himself alternated right and left hands. Geithner outlined the proposal, beginning the fight with McConnell, and Carney continued the fight in his press conferences. Boehner said his plan was “credible.” Carney might well say “Credible? I don’t think that word means what you think it means.”

Guilder and Florin, the nations involved in the plot Prince Humperdink arranges, the reasons for all the drama herein, are words for former dutch currency, now the Euro. Seriously? Yep. It’s about the Benjamins, even in the world of The Princess Bride. Well, the Dutch Benjamins. I suppose that makes it all about the “Lars”, or the “Hans,” perhaps.

Barack Obama plays the brilliant Vizzini. I know, this one hurts a bit, but it’s just a play so you’ll have to suspend your disbelief. Vizzini is all smarts, all knowledge, but he outsmarts himself. He thinks too much. He doubles back on himself, and in the end, fails to realize that the person he’s outwitting, the trap he’s sprung, has been set by the person he’s arguing with. Congress created this Cliff, it’s a trap they’ve built up an immunity too, taking it in tiny doses for years, like iocane powder. The fact that Obama has to play this game is a plot device designed to move the story along in an interesting way, nothing more. It is “a play told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” We like Vizzini. We’d like to play chess with Vizzini, though he would certainly win. But despite his delusions and his title as gang leader, he is little more than a pawn in a great game.

Miracle Max: Jack Lew, White House Chief of Staff. Lew won’t be the headliner in negotiations, but he will be present, and he’s reportedly a hardliner against cuts to entitlement programs. We’ll need Republicans to swallow that giant pill. This isn’t “true love,” Max. You can be rough about it. Though it’s a “bit” part, let’s face it, nothing gets fixed without Miracle Max.

Who will save us from the plotting of the arrogant Prince Humperdink and his minions? Who will be our Wesley?
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Good old American Farm Boy.
It’s clear that Wesley, our hero, is played by us, the American people. It’s clear that without our intervention, the budget will be kidnapped every year and taken, unimpeded, up the Cliffs of Insanity. Without our efforts to require that the budget be worked out properly, without our insistence that the social safety net, Medicare and Medicaid, be brought back to our country safely, we could be overpowered and continually subjected to this budgetary torture, with years removed from our American lives by the Albino and Count Rugen’s cruelty. The American people must demand that our vital social programs be kept intact. Without this action, our government will continue to scheme against us, devising outlandish fool’s errands, up to and including inventing scapegoats for war. Does this sound familiar to anyone?

We, us, Westley, must climb the Cliffs, sleeper hold Fezzik, out-fence Inigo, and out-wit Vizzini. Only then will we finally hold Buttercup in our arms again.

AS YOU WISH, America.

Regardless, let’s hope these guys can accomplish something before the end of the year. If there is good news, it is that tax cuts will automatically expire. Even inaction is action, as the budget Buttercup will be returned to America/Florin without the expense, without making such a drama about it.

And without all that yucky kissing.

Lance Armstrong: American Patriot and Right-to-Dope Advocate.

10/10/2012

 
The USADA has banned Lance Armstrong from competitive cycling for LIFE. To many, this may seem like one more athlete caught cheating and disgraced forever. To the media, this is just another story of one man's fall from the heights of accomplishment to embarrassment and defeat. Today the USADA released more information on the case, saying that Armstrong was at the center of the most sophisticated and professional doping program in recent sports history. 

But make no mistake. This is not just one man's battle. In sanctioning Lance Armstrong, in striking his successes from the records of cycling, the USADA is conducting an attack on American values and insulting a sport filled with athletes who are, frankly, too good be just "runners," more fit than Usain Bolt, and more powerful than professional Football players. 
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Lance: "Cycling doesn’t need this." Agree. We need more doping in cycling........ More, I say.
Armstrong, with his uncanny ability to flex his muscles over and over again in a certain way on a rider-powered vehicle with two wheels in tandem, is obviously a national hero. Why, then, is he being vilified as someone who simply injects drugs into his veins to enable him to win?

He is so much more than that.

The USA is known for "exceptionalism", an ability to succeed despite every obstacle placed in her path. We were founded by patriots who wanted to change the status quo. An organization(Britain) told them what to do and how they would do(pay for) it. Our forefathers achieved the unthinkable, conducting an armed revolution, liberating themselves from this tyranny. They paid a price in blood to ensure that their descendants would enjoy the freedom of quick, easy success in the financial markets without having to pay a higher effective tax rate than 13% in any fiscal year or release more than one year of their tax returns, even if running for Presidential office. We fought and died for this privilege. We are the benefactors of this important lesson from our history, one that Lance Armstrong embodies, literally: no one can tell a person-person or corporate-person how to treat their body. Especially when that body is money.

Similarly, Lance Armstrong has struck a blow on behalf of all Americans. He is a patriot, a pioneer. The USADA tells him what he can put in his body. Lance Armstrong said "NO!" to this oppression. Britain told our forefathers that they had to pay taxes. They said "no", too, insisting that the body of Americans would not be weakened by other countries' rules. The USADA told Lance Armstrong how to treat his OWN BODY, and his act of defiance should serve as an inspiration to us all. I'm practically saluting here.

Lance Armstrong is the Nelson Mandela of our time, isn't he? Paving the way for future generations despite the horrible atrocities committed against him by deleting his name from the record books and publicly smearing his name by accusing him with hundreds of pages of so-called evidence and the testimony of dozens of so-called witnesses and the production of so-called incriminating "emails" and the nuisance of alleged "facts". Nelson Mandela spent years in prison to preserve his message of peace. Similarly, Lance Armstrong has been banned from riding a two-wheeled vehicle in international competitions that involve two-wheeled vehicles because he took performance enhancing substances. Well, allegedly. And then decided not to contest the charges, triggering the lifetime ban from competitive international cycling. Anyway, the likeness between the visions of Lance Armstrong and Nelson Mandela and the similarities of their evil oppressors is incredible. 

If you rearrange the letters in "Nelson Mandela", it even spells "Lanse Amdolne". For conspiracy theorists everywhere, this is damning proof of their relation and is clear evidence of an illuminati-driven plot to shame the sport of professional fast bicycle-riding. I mean, it doesn't get much clearer than that.

Another group that should applaud Lance Armstrong is women, especially pro-choice supporters. Women's right's supporters have long supported a woman's ability to control what goes in her body - Lance Armstrong is no different. Like all the pro-choice advocates before him, Lance Armstrong stands up for his own ability to control his body. And to the doubters, the Akins of the world who would say that an athlete's body has mechanisms to cope with such foreign substances, I say an athlete's body rejecting steroids occurs with as much frequency as snow during the Tour De France. In Miami.

It's time for athletes to rise up against these oppressors and throw their organic, natural, unadulterated, Epo-free tea into the harbor of hatred. 

We pay athletes to perform, regardless of their abilities in any other area. How can we justify requiring them to keep their bodies free of drugs that will turn them into freakish behemoths, cause crippling side-effects, or affect their mental capacities? The reality is that it matters not, for once the holy endorsement is gained, an athlete's intellectual capacity or knowledge of a subject is ignored as they become reputable purveyors of everything from to razors to tires to electric grills. As proud Americans, we buy as these things because we understand the importance of being athletically gifted in relation to one's knowledge of what makes a quality automotive tire. We also understand that how you got there, whether by pumping your legs up and down extremely quickly, fake-slamming another person's body to the mat quite convincingly, ruining lives through your success at being a corporate marauder and sending your money to Grand Cayman, or just having a sex tape where you can almost make out your face but the glowing eyes in the near dark is kinda creepy - however you got there, it's not important in the least. To the point, whether your initial athletic gift comes au naturale or as a result of jacking up your OWN body with pharmaceuticals makes no difference. It is your right as an American, just like the right to smoke pot, a right that is almost certainly referred to in the Declaration of Independence through use of the word "happiness". That's right, Thomas Jefferson had slaves, ergo  ganja. For those of us that studied history between blunts, there can be little doubt.

The USADA's attack on Lance Armstrong is therefore an attack on American Values. 

Lance Armstrong chose to give up his fight against the USADA, triggering the lifetime ban. Critics claim that this is an admission of guilt. Of course this is a lie propagated by the liberal media. Like Jesus and Ghandi before him, Lance Armstrong believes that in order to fight, one must sometimes surrender the weapons at your disposal to expose the truth of the oppressor.

We really should be proud of an American who stands up for his rights and then bravely refuses to fight the penal system. We should be proud of Lance Armstrong's body, sculpted carefully through years of deception - a deception required only because of stupid, thoughtless laws designed to protect the pitiful idea of a "level playing field."

Let all athletes inject whatever they want. Lance Armstrong, you are a pioneer, a true American Patriot and Right-to-Dope advocate. Your actions are an inspiration to us all.

Now someone please shut his lawyers up. Their continued denial and cries of "witch hunt" are hurting poor Lance's cause.
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Calling it a witch hunt implies there are no witches.

Why Boys Need Refs

9/25/2012

 
On Monday, September 24th, 2012, the Seattle Seahawks won a tight game against the Green Bay Packers on a last-second interception/touchdown call. This was universally an eyebrow-raiser for Seahawk friend and foe alike - though the NFL upheld the call Tuesday - and led to calls by NFL fans to bring back the regular referees and get rid of the replacements the NFL had been using during a labor dispute.

Do we need referees at all? 

If you grew up with sports, this is a ridiculous, even incomprehensible question. Really, though. Can't we all just get along?
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Thanks to the EVERY ONE OF MY FRIENDS who posted this.
No, we can't. 

Children are hilarious, and instructive. My children, for example, believe that their basic needs(playing Nintendo and watching Television) are somehow more important than my own basic needs(eating and playing the banjo). 

This is trollop. Wait, I just looked that up, and that's not the right word, though it seems like it should fit. Doesn't it seem like "trollop" should mean "hogwash"? Well, it doesn't.

It's hogwash, then. Or malarkey. My almost-lost point here is that while children speak the truth, it's their truth, not the real truth. Similarly, growed-up-men need an impartial observer to say whether or not something really happened, even when the result is obvious. Somewhere, we lost the ability to see the truth. Or we never counted it important in the first place.

Anyone who's ever played any game anywhere knows that while girls and women seem content to enjoy the experience, boys and men totally screw it up for everyone. We watch as our children assemble to play a game and the girls create some beautiful fantasy world to experience while the boys begin by assigning points to activities and drawing boundaries to stay within and you can't go there that's "out".
"Somewhere, we lost the ability to see the truth. Or we never counted it important in the first place. "
Boy games progress quickly into discussions of rules and what's allowed, what you can and cannot do. The structure of the experience and the parameters of "winning" become just as important as - often more important than - the experience itself.

Anyone who has ever played any of these games also knows that most calls are obvious. It's clear that someone's out of bounds. It's easy to tell whether or not that was a "catch" 95% of the time. Was that fair? In our hearts we KNOW - but we still look to the referee to tell us, because operating in that world, the world of rules and boundaries, means it's just as important that those rules and boundaries are accepted and agreed upon by the others playing. "Fairness" becomes less valuable than a positive completion, yardage gained, points scored. Especially when we have this impartial rube that is responsible for our fairness. Not us. Heaven knows, we can't be responsible for THAT.

In a perfectly fair world, the Seahawk would have set the ball down and said "yeah, that was an interception, nice catch dude." OF COURSE that's ridiculous. It's preposterous. It's anathema. Isn't it interesting that our idea of fairness in sports means that such a level of fairness is stupid?

(Of course I won't bring up the rest of the questionable calls in that game.  It's certainly not my point to argue that the Seahawks should have lost.)

We don't expect fairness. We expect people to abide by our lame rules as cooked up and agreed upon and oh we have to appoint one guy as the rules checker because we can't do that ourselves, that would be biased. 

Perhaps instead of asking how to handle referee union negotiations and aren't those NFL owner fatcats idiots and our whole season's in the crapper because of that stupid call and I will hunt down your family you suck ref!  ... Perhaps instead of these things we should begin to question the value of fairness and how we come to determine "fair."

(...or perhaps we should really be solving world hunger instead of talking about one guy who did the wrong thing in a game involving the skin of a pig?)

In short, we need referees because we're whiny babies who can't let go of our testosterone-fueled fantasies of triumph long enough to be, how do you say in your language, "fair".

Yes, it would be nice if any professional in any sport EVER was held responsible for douche-iness, but that's not a part of being a professional, now, is it. Heck no it isn't. They're players, not role models, right?

I think I'll go play with the girls now. 
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"Those refs are SO STUPID!" "YEAH!"

Zombie Apocalypse Survival, a la L4D2

8/22/2012

 
People often ask me "Tony, how do you know so much about surviving the upcoming zombie apocalypse?"

The easy answer is "Because I have already survived it".

Not literally, of course, unless you count the innumerable times I have shaken my head at the mindless throngs of drooling morons posting, figuratively, "braaaaains" comments on the internet.

Or the times I have questioned my progeny's apparent inability to use a modicum of the mental prowess that millions of years of evolution as well as the wise teachings of their parents have given them before doing things like a) crossing the street, b) eating over your plate, or c) peeing INTO the toilet. Or wiping. But that's another tale of horror.

That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about zombie video games, of course, the only legitimate training ground for surviving the up-and-coming zombie apocalypse.
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Zombie video games allow us to indulge our fantasies - as well as to prepare our minds - for what will surely doom us all: a virus or government weapon or genetic mutation or alien infestation. See, so many reasons, it seems pretty likely allasudden, doesn't it? See The Oatmeal's rundown for a play-by-play of how it will happen. 

Zombie apocalypse survival, at least according to my favorite game Left for Dead 2, is based on these simple concepts:

1) Only trust four people. If there are four others, do not trust them. They are the worst kind of zombies.

2) One of the four must be a girl. It's a ratio thing. Survival of humanity and all.

3) Try not to shoot each other! But if you do, it's okay. Accidents happen. I usually just say "whoopsie!"

4) If you are hurt, careful searching of nearby areas will likely produce medical supplies that will heal you in part or completely, so don't worry too much about your health.

5) Food is a given. Don't worry about it.

6) Even if you die, a friend can use a nearby defibrillator to revive you. Phew! 

7) Also, don't worry about ammunition. The next infinite ammunition supply will be at the next saferoom - which is just minutes away down an easy-to-see prescribed path.

So, friends, clearly I will be your best option when the Zombie Apocalypse is upon us.

In love(except for zombies. of course, I hate those mother ******ers.), 

Tony

Snoop Doggy.

8/20/2012

 
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This is what happens when you fill your dog's water dish with gin and juice.

Olympic sports the USA sucks balls at, part 1

8/11/2012

 
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This is allegedly our US ball kicking team. From a tournament in Ireland in which they may possibly have been defeated before their plane landed.
Kicking a ball is clearly something the USA is poor at. Our Olympic kicking-the-ball team didn't even qualify, owing to their being played to a draw by a small, hitherto undiscovered Latin American country earlier this year. Either that, or the American Idol finale conflicted with an important qualifying match, in which case the failure is completely understandable.

Perhaps I am not being entirely fair about our should-be Olympic Kick-the-ball team. The USA is not known for it's kicking. If the sport were related to gumption, pulling one's self up by one's bootstraps, or deceptive business practices, we would qualify easily and be a favorite to medal. Kicking, not so much. 

Also there is a bit of name confusion surrounding the kick-the-ball sport, which has at least two other names. When the lads from the USA patriotically show up in shoulderpads, who can blame them?
This confusion has been solved handily by the women, however. Not only do they NOT show up in shoulderpads, they even win. This is a clear reason women should be considered smarter than men. Except, of course, if women are near each other and start a Twitter war over some comments regarding kick-the-ball announcing. Then they are pretty stupid.
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    Tony Markey?

    I am a bourgeois spiritualist.
    A banjoist,
    Social entrepreneur,
    quadricycle pilot,
    harlequin, and
    purveyor of all things passe. 
    At least I was that yesterday.

    I am an elbow model.
    a Wii sportsman, 
    a seven sigma diamond belt,
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    bon vivant du monde,
    uniquely de rigeur.

    I am a creative genius - 
    as long as by 'creative' you mean 'things that make you go 'huh', and by genius you mean 'well, that seems smart on the surface'.
    Just don't think too much about it.

    I am all that you desire - 
    unless you have really weird desires.
    I am humble, more than anyone else in the world.

    An artisan of manufacturing processes, and a craftsman of fine art.
    A post-modern neo-renaissance man.

    I have a heart of gold, a tongue in my cheek, an athlete's foot and a hitch in my git along.

    A hater of hate and a lover of love,
    A grand master of 5 martial arts - none of which I have studied.

    I am a dreamer of dreams --
    some of which have been a little erotic, actually. But nevermind that. Unless you're into that?

    I am a man of amazing vision, but worsening eyesight.

    I am 1/2 vagabond,
    1/2 the son and heir (of nothing in particular), and
    1/2 fruit salad. Yummy yummy. 

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    perpetrator of ponzi love schemes
    Some people call me a space cowboy...

    That's just a little bit about me. 

    Buy me pretty shoes

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