I've somehow managed to avoid doing surveys, for the most part, by not doing them when I get tagged. However, when you get tagged three times in one day... it warrants a response, nay sir, it demands a response. I am taking action. This survey is a dead man. (Note the use of metaphor, very important.)
Here are the rules. I have to list ten facts about myself. Easy? Not the way I do it.
I have no idea what a nurse's assistant does. I know what a nurse does. A nurse assists a doctor. Nurses are responsible for administering medication, monitoring the patient, handing scalpels, and so on. They do tons of important stuff. A nurse's assistant? Do they open the medication? Do they wash the scalpel? It seems a bit contrived, like hiring a secretary for your secretary. I know I could wikipedia this, or google it, or ask someone, but I think the topic is more entertaining when cloaked by a veil of ignorance and assumption/presumption. I am nothing if not ignorant and sumptuous.
I once picked a girl up at a gas station. We went to a bar. She turned out to be completely boring. I have never been impressed by the quality of products found at the gas station. I wouldn't buy steak at the gas station, I should know better than to pick up girls there.
I see no problem with comparing women to pieces of meat. This has nothing to do with their gender, and a lot to do with the fact that we're all really just pieces of meat. Some of us are simply more sumptuous. Yum.
I've actually managed to glean three separate bullet points out of this one series of events. That same girl and I went out a few times, but we stopped seeing each other partly because the boredom was stifling. The richest relationship in her life was with her cat. The main reason though is this... I am an atheist. So after she asked me about it and I confirmed, she didn't return my calls. I let it go because watching cable on her couch and discussing her cat was not high on my to-do list. I have been "let go" for my religious views; I have been discriminated against because I bathe in hell-fire. I have an eternity of damnation ahead of me, no reason to make me suffer now.
I secretly worry that we're running out of personality types because of the influence of main stream media. Chuck Klosterman writes about this in his book Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs, in the chapter about the Real World. Mr. Klosterman, I'll see your suspicions and raise you a reasonable amount of alarm.
I worry that future pirate movies will be constant rehashes of Johnny Depp's Jack Sparrow. How sad would that be? Sparrow is an awesome character, brilliant even, but it's been done. We need progress, we need innovation. What's worse, I'm afraid of spillage. What happens when characters in other genres turn into Jack Sparrow? What happens when real life people turn into Jack Sparrow? What happens when Jack Sparrow bags your groceries? Bums a dollar? Files your taxes? Robs you at knife point?
This sort of thing is already happening, you see television homogenizing the country. Regional accents are slowly disappearing. America's role-models are broadcast country wide, world-wide really, and mass media has begun the process of pigeon-holing the population. Red State, Blue State anyone?
Human beings deal in one-dimensional stereotypes as a matter of convenience, it makes war and lynching easier to accept. When you can shed the burden of looking at a person as a multi-faceted being, it makes it easier to not think of them as a human(Like a piece of meat, I'm guilty too). Likewise, it's easier to be understood when you can whittle your own personality down to a known arch-type. When you can be the jock, the geek, the dweeb, the druggie, the prep, the militant, the artist, the queer, the black, the Jew, the upper, the downer, the socialite, the hopeless romantic, the moderately effeminate lumberjack, the musician, the nice guy, the Christian, the Jack Sparrow and so on, it streamlines the social process. You can take your most prominent trait, or feature, and run with it. The real motivation here, I suppose, is to avoid ridicule, or share ridicule with others who've lumped themselves into your group. The jock who plays Dungeons and Dragons isn't a jock who plays Dungeons and Dragons, he's a jock because people respect jocks more, it's more socially desirable to be a jock than a geek. It's easier to be gay because there are other people who are gay. I think the mantra "we're here, we're queer, get used to it." is telling because there is no "I" in queer. There is a gay community, and when moral/religious conservatives level ridicule at the gays they can share the so-called blame.
This could of course lead me back to the idea of racial identity. I'll keep it brief though. Racial profiling happens on two levels. People profile other people, and people profile themselves.
I suppose what I'm saying is that folks should be who they are, and not who they're supposed to be. Jocks should feel free to admit that the Lord of the Rings Trilogy was kind of a cool life changing experience, and straight guys should be able to admit that sometimes they like to watch gay porn because the acting is better.
As previously mentioned, I am an atheist. I'm not asshole about it though. I would never be so bold as to presume to know the nature of the universe.
What makes me odd as an atheist is that I don't think atheism holds any more weight than any religion. Atheists tend to take a smarter-than-thou attitude when faced with a holier-than-thou situation, but when it comes down to it there's really no plausible argument for anything beyond belief. Atheists like to use science to disprove religion. But what is science, really?
Science is a collection of theories and observations that seek to explain the nature of existence. There are no facts in science, not really, there are some pretty good assumptions, but in an existence filled with infinite possibilities what can we really be certain about?
Most atheists accept science at face value, usually without even understanding how the conclusions were drawn. I can tell you that science says that the earth is several billion years old, but I couldn't prove it myself, and I have no clue how other people came to that conclusion. I believe it's true, and what's that called? Faith.
Regardless of whether you believe in God, unicorns, the tooth fairy, chemistry, or whatever, we're all on fairly equal footing in so-far as explaining the nature of existence. I don't feel that believing in God is any more far-fetched than believing that light travels at a constant speed 35 miles per hour, regardless of posted speed limits, when inside of a Lincoln Towncar with a geriatric behind the wheel. (See how I used a known stereotype to communicate absurdity? See number five again.)
There isn't that big of a difference between people who believe in God and people who don't, the only thing that changes is how you view our shared reality. If there's one thing we can all agree on, it's this... existence is magical.
Those of you who party with me know that if there's one thing you can count on, it's the fact that I will clog your toilet and rob you of precious rolls of sanitary paper. I am of the mind that if there is one thing on this planet that every human being should be anal about it's the cleanliness of their anus. I wipe until I'm sure that the poop is gone, I will not walk around with a stinky bottom. To that end, baby wipes are a miracle. But why just for babies? Why not me? Why aren't more people wiping their asses with these things? They're like slightly moistened magic.
Think about it. Write a letter to big-ass-wipe and demand satisfaction from your netherly hygiene experience. Walk around clean and refreshed, not stinky and the opposite of refreshed when used as a description of cleanliness.
Try it, that's all I'm saying. It'll save you some time, keep you smelling fresh, and your sphincter will thank you. I was going to make a brown-eye/red-eye joke here, but it was sort of tasteless, so I cut it.
I had a near death experience on a plane. While on mid-tour leave from Iraq, my flight out of Atlanta suffered technical difficulties. Apparently in mid-air the plane lost power to it's stabilizers. I don't know what stabilizers are, but I'm going to conjecture that they have something to do with stability, and I'm guessing that's sort of important. I'm no expert though, so I could be overreacting. Stabilizers might be the thing that keeps coffee from spilling during rough turbulence. I don't know. I'm not an airplane mechanic, or an aerospace engineer and I couldn't afford to stay at the Holiday Inn Express. I'm clueless. Anyway, I missed out on the whole experience because I was passed out drunk in my seat. I'm told it was quite harrowing.
The only holiday I really like as an adult is Thanksgiving. I love food, and everybody gets the same thing. I might be a Commie.
I'm not jumping on the universal health-care bandwagon just yet. I've seen what our government can do.
On a lame side note, I don't know why doctors spend their entire careers practicing medicine. When is the big game? When are the Medical Olympics? Can we change that term to performing medicine. Magicians practice tricks and then they perform them. I think doctors could learn a thing or two from those guys. One, practice and then perform. Two, lovely young assistants, and I suppose lovely young assistants for your lovely young assistants. Three, sequins are okay, live a little.
I'm really pretty much done with this survey. I eat my fries with mayo whenever possible. It just tastes better. Mayonnaise is pretty delicious. I'd brush my teeth with it if I could.
Also, ten inch cocks.
I guess I tag...
Johnny Alien, the Bandit, Alejandra, Mo, Chris, Dylan, and Lewis, Jeremy, Gene and Brian because revenge is sweet and I know you won't do it again and I won't have to potentially read 10 blogs (that's 100 fucking factoids. What do I look like?)
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Posted by Ryan Placchetti at 1:18 PM