"There's a small place inside us that they can never lock away, and that place is called hope."
-- Andy Dufresne
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
I Won't Be Much For Conversation If We Go Into the Rest of This
Congratulations to Ms. Nina Patterson for correctly naming "Bartender" by Dave Matthews Band as the Thursday Song of the Day.
It's a bit odd watching a DMB performance after LeRoi's death, but I suppose it's the same thing that people felt when they watched Hendrix on YouTube back in the early 70's.
What?
You didn't YouTube in the early 70's?
Neanderthal.
Current Reading Born Standing Up: A Comic's Life by Steve Martin
Congratulations to Mrs. Katrina Kincaid for correctly naming "Backwards Down the Number Line" by the one, the only, Phish as the Tuesday Song of the Day.
I realize that this blog offers only a limited platform to put forth my viewpoints and opinions on subjects far and wide, but hopefully those of you who read this will heed my words and pass them along to your loved ones.
For the love of all that is good and holy, please, please, please stop making the "Hitler goes off on (insert team here)" video with footage from the movie Downfall. You all know the clips I'm talking about here, don't you?
Hitler the Dallas fan goes off on the Cowboys after Romo (literally) throws away another game.
Hitler, the Texas A&M grad. spews vitriol over the Aggies losing to Baylor at Kyle Field.
Hitler, the USC season-ticket holder, chastises his fellow Trojan backers for calling for the ouster of Pete Carroll after losing to U-Dub last Saturday.
I get it, ladies and gentlemen. It's funny that this guy who master-minded the deaths of 12 million people is now yelling about Romo constantly throwing picks instead of promoting genocide. That's funny, right? RIGHT?
Of course it's funny, but it's much like constantly eating pecan pie. Sure, it's good for the first few days. Okay, okay. It's good for the first few weeks.....but after a while, the enjoyment begins to fade. After that 53rd slice of pecan pie, or after the video of Hitler, the curling fan, screaming about how Finland came in third in last year's Curling World Championships, you realize that you need something new.
So, for the sake of all mankind, please do what you can to give these videos a mercy killing. Friends don't let friends make Hitler videos.
Congratulations to Ms. Amanda Pierce for correctly naming "Ain't No Rest for the Wicked" by Bowling Green, Kentucky's own, Cage the Elephant.
This post is currently being written with the assistance of Comcast High Speed Internet (trademarked). Yes, that's right, I'm working with enemy. From here on out, I'm basically, Vichy France, folks.
Current Reading An Ordinary Man: An Autobiography by Paul Rusesbagina
Even though my soon-to-be cable and internet provider probably has a security apparatus that rivals anything George Orwell could dream up, I wrote the following words a few days ago:
"I would call Comcast the Khmer Rouge of cable companies, but I don't want to be unfair to the Khmer Rouge." Yes, that's right, after going without television for the past two years, I'll be re-joining the rest of you in the 21st century on Tuesday night. Well, that's when my appointment is scheduled. If my previous interactions with Pol Pot's favorite cable company are any indication, I might actually receive service in time to watch the 2012 election returns.
With TV on the brain, I submit the following idea to you, my dear readers: television channels a la carte. I know that some of you (coughTimKirkseycough) killed my idea last year about having barbers charge per minute for haircuts instead of a flat rate, but what about charging for TV channels a la carte?
If you're like me, you only watch a few channels (the major networks, Comedy Central, the ESPN family of networks, Fox Soccer Channel, GolTV, and a smattering of cable news networks) the vast majority of the time. What if you had to pay more per channel than you pay now (taking your total cable bill and dividing it by the number of channels in your plan), but you paid less overall because you only purchased (just for the sake of example) 15 channels?
There's surely some large impediment to this that I am missing, but it just seems like the trend in television delivery is towards a greater specificity of service tailored to the whims of each individual consumer.
What do you think, folks? A brilliant idea whose time has come or a potential disaster on par with New Coke?
Waitin' For When the Last Shall Be First and the First Shall Be Last
I had promised myself that I was going to keep the Kanye-Taylor Swift commentary to an absolute minimum, but when one of your friends does something like this, it must be shared.
Men Walkin' Long the Railroad Tracks, Goin' Someplace There's No Goin' Back
Realizing that it has been two LONG, LONG weeks since new words have been written in this space, I realized that I would be doing myself and the rest of this band a disservice if I didn't jump back on the ol' blogging horse* ASAP.
Yesterday was the first pay-day since starting the job, and for someone who has been operating in the student realm for the past twenty years (that's 80% of my life for those of you scoring at home), I almost had the following conversation with the person handing me my check:
Me: So, you mean I can keep this?
Co-Worker: Yes.
Me: And if I take it to a bank, they'll make my account a bigger number than it is right now?
Co-Worker: Yes.
Me: And there will be more of these in the future?
Co-Worker: Sure, payday is twice a month. The 15th and the 30th.
Me: Only in America. Only in America.
Co-Worker: What does any of this have to do with America? You know people get paid in other countries, right?
Me: I don't know. I've just heard Don King say that a bunch.
*In case you were wondering, that horse's name is Patches. Be sure to feed him some apples when you see him.
Congratulations to Ms. Stacy Villescas for correctly naming "Lovely Rita" by The Beatles as the Tuesday Song of the Day.
I'm guessing the song wasn't written about Rita Wilson, but that's mainly because I don't see Tom Hanks' name alongside McCartney and Lennon in my liner notes to "Sgt. Pepper's."
With yesterday's news that Adam "Pacman" Jones will be heading to the Great White North to play in the CFL for the Winnipeg Blue Bombers, I'm slightly disappointed that the lady friend and I will be residing in Houston after the marriage.
"Why is that?" you might ask.
Well, according to well-placed sources (coughColeGriffithcough), Pacman's old house outside of Nashville is still for sale, and I've always wanted the opportunity to purchase a piece of real estate that was once in the running for the title of "Modern Day Location of Sodom and Gomorrah". Here's the alternative, though. While Pacman is playing in the land of Canadian Bacon, Labatt Blue, and the word "EH", he's surely going to want to maintain a presence in the mind of NFL GMs.
What better way to do that then his own reality show? You're telling me that you wouldn't want to watch a special season of "This Old House" hosted by Bob Vila, Norm Abram, and special guest host Pacman Jones? Pacman could stoke a rivalry with Ty Pennington (MOVE...THAT...IMPALA!!!), he could come out with a line of power tools at Sears (WATCH OUT, VILA), and he could increase his street cred with the obviously edgy audience of PBS viewers.
It's fail-proof, my friends.
Update (Thurs. morning): Apparently, the Pacman to Winnipeg transaction will not take place after all. I always knew that Canadians would never accept an American arcade hero.
One of my favorite parts about starting work here in Houston has been the fact that I get to walk every day from the parking garage where I leave the Green Machine each morning to the SECOND TALLLEST BUILDING IN TEXAS (I thought that needed to be in all caps, and surely you agree) through the illustrious downtown Houston tunnel system.
It's not that I get that much of a thrill from walking below ground (although that might be some huge perk for people who admire moles or gophers), but it always seems like one of those places where you could see this scene from HEAT breaking out in front of you.
The bank on the tunnel level of the building has this giant vault with one of those huge rotating wheels on it, and both days I have gone up the escalator to the elevators on the ground floor, I kept expecting Val Kilmer, Tom Sizemore, and Robert De Niro to show up and start raising hell. Who knows, my friends? Maybe that will be the special treat each and every Wednesday at THE SECOND TALLEST BUILDING IN TEXAS.
