My PAX 2007 Report

The Marching of the Cunts

Six thousand by six thousand stood they,
The stalwart cunts,
Weaponless and exposed, they marched on

And sixty thousand by sixty thousand, did they face
Of men, both terrible and strong.
And quickly were they trodden upon.

Those brave cunts, those brave cunts!
The bards would someday sing.
Those cunts, which stood against the dawn.

And as they were slaughtered, they stood braver still
No queef nor complaint did they utter.
They stood upon that hillside slaughterground,
Like floppy pink pillars of stone.

For theirs is not to reason why,
Theirs is but to do and die.
O cunts, O stalwart cunts.


ADDENDUM:

It's been too long.

It's 3:45 am. You're on the road, completely alone, except for the music pumping out of the speakers. Your name brand portable music player is hooked to your car through an adapter plugged into the tape deck, bridging the gap between old technology and new. Your car cannot handle the new device; it is in a transitory state, as are you. You don't know what you want to listen to, so you tell your player to play all your songs in random order.

You are not alone for long, as you soon detect the flash of headlights in your side mirror. A red light up ahead soon brings you side by side as you stop, waiting for no one. As your playlist flips over to the next song, the opening strains of “Don't Stop Believin'” fill your car. Not long ago, these notes played over the final moments of the last episode of a popular TV show, and you are embarrassed to seem so predictable. Of course, it wasn't your choice, but all the same you turn to see if the person next to you has noticed, knowing full well there's no way they could have.

The person is alone in their car. It seems like this late at night, everybody is alone. They remain alone, for as you regard this person, they look straight ahead, taking no notice of you. Their face is half obscured in shadow, so it is hard to make out their expression, but the overwhelming neutrality of it shines through the darkness. They show absolutely no emotion, yet you're drowning in pathos. The situation says it all, they like you, and all the other cars on the road, that now are nothing but pale flashes off in the distance, you're all in a state of transition.

Authors have long probed how a physical transitory state reflects something of the human condition. They tell of brief meetings on buses, planes, trains, in waiting rooms, stations, and terminals. But as far as I know, none have documented the phenomenon at stoplights. I suppose these locations are more seductive; you have plenty of time to kill, and the people involved can engage in conversation. This works better in a novel, but as an experience, nothing is so perfectly succinct as these 30 seconds.

Back in the car, the light changes, and instantly you're alone again. The other person now cares only for the road ahead, and try as you might, you cannot lose yourself in that person again. Your old companion remains practically as close as ever, but now you are insurmountably divided. You've been bitten by a snake, and now it has gone, and you have only the sting to keep you company. And then you hear these lyrics:

Strangers waiting
Up and down the boulevard
Their shadows searching
In the night
Streetlights, people
Livin' just to find emotion
Hidin', somewhere in the night

And suddenly what seemed so cheesy before is now uncomfortably appropriate.

Sometimes life is maddeningly clichéd.


SIDE NOTE: Today's Pearls Before Swine is fucking awesome.

A Variation

A historian, a scientist, and a mathematician are sharing a cabin on a train traveling through Scotland. The train suddenly stops, and the conductor announces that the train will be delayed for some time, so they talk to pass the time. As the historian glances out the window, he notices a lone black sheep standing in a field. "Ah, all Scottish sheep are black," he exclaims. The scientist corrects him. "No," she says, "it is far more likely that some Scottish sheep are black, and others are white." They both naturally turn to the mathematician, who silently contemplates the sheep for some time. Eventually, he says, "In this particular field, on this particular day, at this particular time, there exists one sheep that is at least half black."

Meanwhile, a priest walks by, and the group inquires his opinion on the matter. The priest replies, "All Scottish sheep are white, that black one is a forgery made by the devil."

---

Plus: a bonus fallacious proof of the existence of unicorns:

Einstein showed that space and time are closely related.
There was no space before the universe existed.
Thus, there was no time before the universe existed.
Space is infinite.
Therefore, time is also infinite.
Thus, time has always existed.
Thus, before the big bang, time both existed, and didn't exist.
Therefore, if something exists, it also doesn't exist.
Unicorns don't exist.
Thus, unicorns exist.
QED

A List of Things

An old guitar with rusty strings and splintered wood.

An old barn, with a single spotlight staring into your soul.

A mangy dog gnawing on a human hand.

The sound of the wind, as great hulking trashcans bound across the street.

The moon, pale and orange, barely hanging onto the sky.

A broken promise, delivered by a broken man.

A smarmy bumper sticker, lying at the bottom of a dirty pond.

The glowing haze of a forest fire, poking its way between the smoky trees.

Spaghetti noodles straddling a storm drain.

A lone streetlight dimly flickering.

A blood-stained trailer with a broken axle.

A children’s toy in a dumpster, excitedly exclaiming, “Hug me!”

The feeling of knowing exactly who you are, and then it disappearing one hour later.

A muddy trail lined with debris.

A cake celebrating your birthday, in a flavor you can’t stand.

A beloved hot dog stand, boarded up and gone forever.

An old man in the park, feeding tacos to the ducks.

A small child, kicked in the face by a break dancer.

A man, a plan, a kind of man-made river planned.

A fashionable brooch of solid green.

A certification of your completion of the seventh grade, dated 79 years before you were born.

An unread book on your shelf that speaks to you perfectly at the moment you finally pick it up.

Losing your voice, and then finding it again.

A Broken Mind Part 2: Playing Dress-Up

As should be readily apparent, I am a great admirer of science. I think the scientific method is THE crowning achievement of mankind (sorry to disappoint you, figure skating, but you’re just kind of lame). But I also think science is one of the most misunderstood concepts in today’s society. To most people, the word conjures up some sort of image of people standing around in lab coats, fiddling with test tubes, and figuring out how much an atom of beryllium weighs, and other information which couldn’t possibly be of interest to them. Others see it as something not unlike voodoo, all the while standing around cursing the bureaucratic bean counters for holding back production of their flying automobiles.

It is this second group which the charlatans feed off. People who wouldn’t know true science if it punched them in the face and shat on their tuna fish sandwich. These people are fair game for psychics, chiropractors, mediums, new age anythings, messiahs, alien abductees, missionaries, ghost hunters, gypsies, tramps, and thieves. These people, who hold up science as some sort of treat, enticing the hoodwinkable with hard to understand concepts like energy, and dazzling them with big ten dollar words (adjusted for inflation), are just making speed bumps on the road of our cultural evolution by confusing people with fake science.

Now, I’m not faulting them for being opportunistic. I see nothing wrong with attempting to make a quick buck. I’m just saying that if you have to lie to sell your product or service, you shouldn’t be selling it in the first place. Anything you have to offer society must stand on its own or not at all. You can’t pack your excrement into bars and then tell me it’s chocolate, that’s immoral. If you want to sell it with a big ol’ sign that says, “Feces for Sale, RIGHT HERE!” I’m okay with that. It’s when someone not only resorts to dishonesty, but also drags the good name of science through the mud that makes me want to pull out my switchblade, snap my fingers, and get ready to rumble.

Claiming to play in the realm of science when you obviously don’t is a serious offense. It’s like printing a fake review on the back of your book, and attributing it to a real critic. It’s utterly dishonest, and you just shouldn’t be able to get away with it. Science is very clearly defined, it’s never vague, and you can’t make statements without supporting them. Science is also peer reviewed, so on the off chance someone’s judgment is clouded on a particular issue, it can be caught and corrected. Those are some big shoes to fill, and that’s the reason I’m not a scientist, merely a cheerleader for science. The amount of responsibility required to enter that arena is substantial, unlike the claims of the aforementioned charlatans.

Okay, fine, not all of them are charlatans. Some actually do believe in the shit they’re selling. But that’s only because somebody else sold it to them first, and that’s part of the problem. You’ve got otherwise trustworthy people spreading disinformation simply because someone gave them a good price on a fake bridge. Since not everybody peddling this shit is a fraud, it becomes harder and harder to figure out what’s true and what isn’t. And that’s exactly what the dishonest people want.

They want fact and fiction to mingle together into an inseparable mess. This legitimizes them, which is an attractive quality for the consumer. In no uncertain terms, they seek to destroy science in order to make money. Not only does this mean they’re stepping on the customers, and the people they con into propagating their spurious claims, by weakening the position of science they are diminishing the quality of your life, the lives of your family, the lives of your friends, the lives of your neighbors, of your countrymen, of the entire population of the world and every generation yet to come. They are fucking over billions of people, and for what? To make a few bucks? That is utterly repulsive.

There will always be repulsive people in the world, people who will have more power than they should. There will always exist people who will lie and swindle, and get away with it; but these people don’t have to get away with it. It is so incredibly easy to catch them in their lie, yet they maintain power because most people don’t even try. They always come up with excuses, like “I can’t make this distinction, I’m not an expert!” or “science is too complicated for me to understand.” These are, of course, untrue. I mean, it’s not like you have to do the research yourself, there are plenty of other people willing to do that for you. All you have to do is recognize the signs of true science, which is why I’ve taken the time to create the following list to help you out. If the claim you’re examining is missing any of these elements, chances are you’re holding a big old vial of snake oil:

Observation
This is pretty basic, if there’s something you want to understand, you first have to observe some kind of result that doesn’t have an adequate explanation. If your claim is based on a theory instead of an observation, you’ve probably been flim-flammed. For example, holistic medicine is based on some kind of theory about vibrating particles, which is currently untestable and thus, unobservable. Where the supposed good effects come into play, I have never seen.

Prediction
This is perhaps the most misunderstood part of the scientific method, because what it isn’t is a wild guess about what is going on. This stage involves taking what we do know about the world around us and combining it with what we think we know, in order to form a way to move the latter category into the former. The way the fakers usually twist this one is to move things between the two categories before they’ve been proven, they make the effect into the cause and the cause into the effect. Unless a hypothesis is founded upon hard fact, it’s just a guess.

Control
This is the big one. It’s where most psuedosciences fuck it up, because this is a difficult one to fake. This is a group of experimental subjects who are exposed to all the same conditions as the others, except for the one you’re testing for. It doesn’t weed out all inaccuracy, as some conditions can be difficult to separate, but it’s considered a requirement because it eliminates a huge group of possible alternative explanations in one fell swoop. If the only results you see are from people who received the so-called treatment, then I absolutely guarantee it’s a con job.

Falsifiability
If something can be proven to be true, it follows that there should also be a test that can prove it false. Now, if the scientist left out one or two possible explanations, then it’s possible you’re simply dealing with a lazy scientist. But if other possibilities never even come up, then that person is trying to take your money. Because when you’re scamming people, you don’t ever want the possibility of you being wrong to ever come up, because doubt hurts the bottom line. In the pursuit of truth though, assumptions have to be questioned every step of the way.

Experimentation
That’s right, once you’ve worked out a theory, and where the weak points in it are, you’ve got to test the damn thing. And testing means data, completely quantifiable and measurable. The tricky thing about data though, is since it doesn’t exist in the physical world, it’s so easy to fake. Bad data can be hard to spot, but a good rule of thumb is if it’s too good to be true, it’s probably not true. If your study does have data though, and it fails on any of these other counts, then at least you know they just pulled it out of their ass, and now you know the magnitude of the malfeasance being performed on you.

Repeatability
Repetition builds a theories strength, especially when performed by others. In order to allow others to reproduce your experiment though, you have to very clearly outline your method. If something about the method seems unclear or slightly off somehow, chances are they’re covering their tracks, because they don’t want people to verify their lies.

Explanation
Time to wrap it up, and for the real scientist, this is where you have to go all in. You have to form a conclusion, but not just any conclusion. Your conclusion has to be supported by every single one of the steps outlined above. If you come up short in any single area, everything you’ve just attempted is all for nothing. As you can see, this is no small task, and this is the reason I could never be a scientist. You could devote years of your life to something only to find out one day that everything you’ve accomplished has been refuted because of some tiny concept that you failed to observe. And if you go into that field, this IS going to happen to you, and probably more than once. Is it cruel? Without a doubt. But it is also the fastest and most reliable way of attaining accurate knowledge. And if you claim to be a scientist but don’t allow yourself to be exposed to that, then you’re just a kid stuffing your little feet into a parent’s enormous shoes. Science is about bravery, valor, and humility. And to undermine it is to undermine all those things.

I beg all who would listen, to stop letting people get away with this kind of cockery. Use this guide, and learn to tell real science from the money-grubbing schemers. Because if you’re not a part of the solution, you’re a part of the precipitate.

Fucking Fuck Apple, and Their Shoddy Ass Products

I'm going to start off this post with a confession. I'm a big fucking hypocrite. I wrote this huge review completely blasting Apple Computers, particularly their marketing, and a few weeks ago, I bought an Ipod (no, I shall not lowercase that "I" because I won't give them the satisfaction). I bought it because I wanted a portable video playing device, and theirs was the cheapest one with all the features I wanted. I also bought it because I now subscribe to a number of podcasts, and I wanted a device with better organization for those. Which brings me to my complaint.

I fucking hate Itunes (again, note the "I"). And with good reason, because it sucks at organizing my music, and it likes to fuck around with my painstakingly organized tag information. But now that I have a fucking Ipod, I need to use fucking Itunes to transfer my stuff to it. Which is bad enough, but as I'm subscribing to all my podcasts over again in Itunes, something interesting is happening. Occasionally, a big group of podcast files decides to just disappear into the ether. Now, longtime Itunes users, I know what you're thinking; you're thinking that I just have it set to delete my old episodes. This is not the case, because I know where to find the settings, I know what they are set on, and I know what happens when you set them that way, and it isn't this. I can tell, because Itunes continues to look for the files, going so far as to ask me if I want to locate them. So I go into the folder, and to my surprise, the file that was there just two hours ago has now vanished without a trace. And no file bearing its name exists anywhere on my computer. And of course there's no way to re-download just that one file, oh no, that would be too convenient. You have to unsubscribe from the podcast, and re-download EVERY SINGLE EPISODE over again. And if you like to keep your old episodes like I do, this is a huge pain in the ass.

So, Apple, if you're reading this (you're probably not, so luckily I sent you an email stating the same thing but saying the word "fuck" a few less times), you're officially on my list of people who I wouldn't mind if they got sodomized by bears (sadly, the bears can only manage to sodomize six people per year, or at least six who will report it). If this is the type of product you put your name behind, and the type of customer service you offer (where the fuck is your damned telephone number?), then I deeply regret giving you money. And keep in mind you were already on my shit list when I did. If I had it to do over again, I would have spent the extra money and gone with a brand that doesn't treat people like shit and act all fucking haughty over it. Your corporation is garbage, and I hope that someday your legacy is regarded as a puke-stain on the carpet in the hall of history.

Also, bears, if you're reading this, I would be eternally grateful if you would place these guys at the top of your anal rape list. Seriously, I'll buy you guys dinner and everything.


ADDENDUM:

Mini-Review: Butter

That's right, I'm reviewing butter. Not a specific brand or type of butter, just butter in general. The concept of butter, if you will. If you have a problem with this, you can refer to me pointing toward my crotch, indicating, I'm not sure what, perhaps some sort of appeals process if you want me to regard your protest, but implying to just leave me alone. So stop your bitching and let's start the review proper.

Butter. Is it good? Yes, but perhaps too good. It's like how you may really like cheesecake, but if someone tied you down and force fed you nothing but cheesecake for three years, you might change your mind. Butter is like three years of cheesecake in a single serving. I say serving as if some guy is just sitting there chewing on sticks of butter, but I actually mean it as when spread on something, such as bread, or fresh onion. Butter, applied in this manner, is simply shit.

Of course, butter also has a myriad of culinary uses. I guess. But whatever, who cares about that?

In conclusion, I'd like to break down the pros and cons of butter.

The Case For Butter



1. It's slippery.
   
2. It's easily made from, um, cows, and other stuff...
   

The Case Against Butter



1. It's slippery.
   
2. Three years of cheesecake.
   
3. Too much like margarine.
   

And that's about all there is to say about butter.

OBJECTION!