Oh the Humanity of the Humanities: A Terrible Title for a Touching Post

Oh irony of ironies. As I opened what I thought was a new notebook to take notes on the Humanities class I just started (a class that studies the intricacies of human expression, I must add) I was greeted by a very simple, and yet sublime, human expression.

“Princess Sparklel (*sparkle) Farts”.

I haven’t laughed as hard as I did in quite a while. My wife laughed also. This one won’t go on the refrigerator though.

Her Majesty deserves a place of honor. She shall be framed in the finest dollar store frame and hung prominently upon our living room wall.

Although I don’t know the period during which the piece was produced, I can comment on the context.

Recently, my son ran up to me as I sat in the bleachers watching my daughters cheer a football game. He said, in front of God and everybody, “Let’s have a farting party!” I expressed extreme distaste in regards to my participating in such an event. My son promptly jammed his hand up his shirt and produced several armpit farts. As my son continued to squelch and giggle, I adopted a somber expression and sternly spoke his name. His farting party came to a screeching halt as he prepared to receive a reprimand. “Do you know what happens after a farting party?” He slowly shook his head. “People have been farting all night and, as they begin to leave, they find themselves parting farty.” A strange smile lay upon his lips and he uttered a half-hearted final giggle before running off to find his mother.

I had hoped to raise a family of nerds. Instead, it seems I’m raising a family of bodily function aficionados. They art about farts, for crying out loud.

I guess it’s ok. Their passion inspires in me an emotion that results in one of the more pleasant bodily functions: laughter.

I bid you adieu…and a don’t.

Adieu…engage in farting parties. Not literally, though. Use it as a metaphor for whatever strange, and less disgusting, activity your children may wish to engage in.

A don’t…part farty. Just don’t.

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Lava Lamps and Life: A Vague Philosophical Comparison Likely Worthy of Ridicule Yet Somehow Relevant

Just a short post tonight in which I shall wax philosophical about the wax in a Lava Lamp. Currently, my lava lamp (a genuine relic from the 1990’s, picked up by my in-laws and appreciated by all) is in the process of warming up. The gunk inside has formed a conglomeration of tiny glowing balls. They form a small mountain and as I watch, they break free from the cluster, one by one, to float to the top, undulating as they ascend, only to fall even faster than they rose. They crash silently back into the cluster and wait patiently to rise again.

Of course, their release represents birth. They rise from the cluster, a slimy and constantly thinning umbilicus connecting their posterior to the heart of the cluster, stretching until it snaps. The silent snap releases the ball to rise on its own, representing growth and advancement. The undulations of the rising ball inspired by the violence of their release represent the struggle to rise free. The rise, of course, represents aging. The rise is quick, the descent slow. This represents the speed at which youth disappears and the apparent slowing of time as we age due to the pain of corporeal deterioration. The reincorporation into the cluster represents the memories loved ones hold of us after we are “gone”. And the process starts again.

My wife wonders why I can stare silently at a Lava Lamp until she forces me to stop, demanding interaction.

Although none may completely understand it, at least now you know.

I bid you adieu…and a don’t.

Adieu…consider the fact that your life is very similar to the reactions present in a Lava Lamp. Although your undulations may seem significant as you experience them, in the long run they are naught but simple tremors, insignificant to outside observers.

A don’t…think that I discount your problems. We have something a wax ball in a heated liquid medium lacks. It is called consciousness and it gives our undulations validation.

Life Hacks: A Zombie Like Solution to a Common Problem

Do you have children? Are you middle-aged and mildly out of shape? Do you have young children who fail to understand your lack of energy and motivation?

I have a solution to offer.

It is common for young children to be born to middle-aged people. It is common for middle-aged people to suffer from lack of energy. This is likely due to our lack of exercise and good nutrition due to America’s obsession with science, technology and reliance on others to complete mundane tasks for us.

My kids love to play tag. This involves running. I haven’t been good at that since I didn’t re-enlist in the Army. I was barely good at it when I was enlisted. I’ve always hated it. I puked and whined and hoped no one would notice. I was anti-addicted to “runner’s high”.

I realized tonight that there is a way to play tag with your children without running.

I am proud of this “life hack” I have discovered.

When your children tire you out with a game of tag, simply change the game…

…to zombie tag.

All you have to do is extend your arms, shuffle your feet and moan disturbingly.

Not only does the moaning and slow movement help you regain your ability to breathe efficiently, your odd noises and movements will inspire laughter in your children, creating the illusion of fun.

Life hack win!

I bid you adieu…and a don’t.

Adieu…find lazy ways to interact with your children. They’ll appreciate your effort.

A don’t…eat their innocent flesh like a zombie would. Such would constitute child abuse.

Defeating Defeatism: Defeatist Attitudes and The Defeatist Attitudes Required to Defeat Them

I’ve often been guilty of courting a defeatist attitude. At times I take pleasure in shooting down every suggesting I’m given that may solve my problems. Ask my poor, frustrated mother. I’m likely the reason her esophagus has stopped working. Either she’s spent too much time trying to talk sense into me or she’s swallowed back so much irritation at my defeatism that it’s killed her throat’s will to help her stay alive by allowing her to efficiently swallow food. Sorry mom.

Anyway, I just realized that everything my mom told me is a lie. Perhaps this is the real reason for her esophageal failure. Her throat just couldn’t stand to pronounce anymore falsehoods. She has uttered such gems as “Ours is not to question why, ours is but to do or die.” Great mom! Let’s all be blind sheep, following a shepherd whether or not he or she has our own best interests at heart! Let’s jump off a cliff with all the rest of the bison. Let’s follow the rest of the cattle docilely into the slaughter house. Let’s question nothing and do as we’ve been instructed. Or how about, “Just eat those mashed potatoes that I spilled beet juice in. It all gets mixed up in your stomach anyway.” My stomach has no taste buds. Plus if it tastes bad going down, my stomach is less likely to digest it peacefully.

I’ve known these were lies for a while. Now I realize that her derision of defeatist attitudes is also founded on a falsehood. Of course, a defeatist attitude can be detrimental. I know firsthand how many opportunities can be missed if you refuse to take advantage of them out of fear or doubt. But without a defeatist attitude, how can you hope to defeat a defeatist attitude? You must have it in your mind to defeat your attitude if you wish to defeat it. This is by definition a defeatist attitude. So, if you can’t defeat defeatism without defeating it, isn’t there something to be said for defeatism?

I bid you adieu…and a don’t.

Adieu…defeat your defeatism. With a defeatist attitude. I suppose once you’ve defeated it, you’ll have the practice you need to defeat other negative things. All thanks to a defeatist attitude.

A don’t…defeat your defeatism too soon. Without defeatism, we might as well be like my mother’s bison who fail to question why yet still do and, usually, still die.

Could Businesses Benefit From Sam’s Example? Food-Free Free Samples

Yesterday my wife and I went to Sam’s Club. Although I enjoy simply walking around the place, we always end up spending at least a hundred dollars a trip. We left with full stomachs because of all the samples they give away. We dined on sushi, grilled cheese, beef sticks, chips, nuts, vitamins and breakfast sandwiches. All in all, a well rounded, satisfying meal. It almost made up for the money we spent on things we didn’t necessarily need. It also made me think….

What if other forms of business offered free samples? We will forego discussing free samples from banks. That is something we all might reasonably wish for. Instead, let’s consider some unorthodox free sample examples.

A book store that hands out small chunks cut from books.

A clothing store that hands out pant legs and shirt sleeves.

A video store that allows you to sample small slivers of dvds.

A music store that plays for you a single note or chord…

…a funeral home that hands out mini coffins or bits of corpse…

I bid you adieu…and a don’t.

Adieu…take what’s given to you. If it’s free, it’s worth it.

A don’t…eat every free sample you’re offered. Especially if it’s a business owned by me.

 

Little Jesus: Inadvertent Blasphemy or Innocent Worship?

This morning my son banged on the bathroom door as I was in the middle of my ablutions. TMI, to be sure. Forgive me. I quickly abdicated the throne to avoid a biological mess. I then activated the Wii and inserted a Mario disc to occupy my son as I put some finishing touches on my English Composition final.

My son is fond of a certain mushroom enhancement Mario can utilize to make himself miniscule. He screams “Look I used a smally! I’m so little!” He utilized this early today and chose a water level. In the course of his game, we realized that miniscule Mario can walk upon the surface of simulated bodies of water. I marveled verbally upon this fact. My son replied by screaming “I’M LITTLE JESUS!!!”

If you are anti-religion, you may not understand my quandary and may wish to stop reading now. This is ok. Believe what you want. I simply ask similar consideration in return.  If you are religious, or simply not anti-religious, I ask you the following question: Should I be concerned about my son’s eternal well-being?

I ask this because Mario basically has to do shrooms to do what he does. Does my son’s reaction indicate that he thinks Jesus did drugs? Or was he simply applying what he has learned to a modern situation? He is six years old. Likely this was an innocent expression of immature excitement in an increasingly electronic environment.

That blasphemy, though.

I bid you adieu…and a don’t.

Adieu…present your children with unique situations. Their reactions can really make you think.

A don’t…discount religion. It is as important to adherents as non-adherence is to those who aren’t religious.

The Insolvent Joke -or- The Reason I’m Not a Standup Comedian

A couple of days ago was National Tell A Joke Day. I learned of this as I listened to the radio on the way to work. I felt that I must commemorate such an event, although it is a bit late. A few highlights from the holiday:

“What do you call a computer that can sing?…A Dell.” – Some lady who called the radio station

“What do you call a deer with no eyes?…No eye deer.” – Some dude who called the radio station

I’ve long considered a career in comedy. Although I rarely consider anything funny that isn’t also rather dark, I’m attracted to the idea of standing on a stage and saying stupid stuff for a living. Actually, I’d much rather be a sit-down comedian. Better yet, I would love to lay recumbent in a recliner and spout random banalities in between micro naps for a living. This will never happen due to my personal contributions to National Tell A Joke Day which follow this sentence directly.

A man went to interview for a job at a trucking company. After answering all of the typical interview questions in stellar fashion, the man was asked about his over the road experience.

“Twenty years.” The man replied proudly.

“You seem like a perfect fit for the position!” The interviewer exclaimed. “We’ll just need to make a copy of your CDL.”

“I don’t have one.” The man replied.

“No problem. We can get you trained. Can we at least copy your driver’s license?”

“I don’t have one of those either.”

“Is it expired? Suspended?”

“I’ve never had one.”

The interviewer; perplexed: “Then how do you have twenty years of over the road experience?”

“Well, for the last twenty years I’ve worked for Channel 6 news, flying the traffic-copter.”

Ba-dum-bum

The next joke may be mildly offensive. Skip ahead if you’re offended by references to Nazi Germany which, by the way, I whole heartedly do not support.

The stars in the night sky sometimes twinkle, but what did the stars over Germany do during Hitler’s atrocious reign?

Twink-heil!

Unfortunately, these cranial excretions are not enough to support any sort of comedic career. So, for now, I’m stuck in a dead-end job and fighting through college at 35 in an attempt to someday feel mildly successful.

I bid you adieu…and a don’t.

Adieu…appreciate bad humor. It’s somewhat better than, and sometimes inspired by, clinical depression.

A don’t…take offense to my Nazi joke. Hitler was a jerk and his regime was egregious. I only wish I could’ve been a part of the effort to end his maniacal, murderous tyranny. Much respect is due to my grandpa and every other person who served in WWII or supported the war effort in any way.