Friday, October 21, 2011

If You Are Reading This, The World Didn't End!

Is it here yet? The end of the world I mean, is it truly here? Oh yeah, it’s not! That’s tomorrow… sorry I keep getting my doomsday prophecy mixed up with the day American’s Got X-Factor Dance Idol…. Or whatever that shows is called comes on TV….. Actually someone just corrected me and told me doomsday is today… Sorry, it's just so easy to get these doomsdays on the wrong day. Happens to the best prophets throughout history; so why shouldn’t it happen to me?

For a quick recap here is the run down keep reading or for my other blog on the subject click here
May 21, 2011 we were all supposed to die a horrible fiery death according to Harold Camping of the Family Radio Worldwide. Well the poor guy got it wrong, the Rapture was to take place that day leaving the rest of us to be judged and suffer until today. Well he had to change his mind a few times but in the end he found the answer, yes the answer to the great question of when the world’s greatest religious genocide would take place. That day would be October 21, 2011! Being the day when we ALL DIE, I think that October 21, 2011 is a terrible date for doomsday! Personally I would have at least waited until Halloween, that way we could all dress up and act all sorts of dumb before dying. But here we are moments away from our doom…. Who the hell am I kidding? This is such a crock of shit, I can’t wait for tomorrow, to wake up to a new day full of the same possibilities that were here toda (which in my town are not many). Now that I think of it, doomsday actually sounds kind of fun. At least it would be a change of pace from my normal humdrum life, an opportunity to experience something new in my small town. Though as I sit wishing for what I would hope to be the Zombie Apocalypse, I fear that tomorrow will simply be another day I wake early, drink my coffee, read the morning news and get ready for the Sooner's ball game tomorrow night.

If you happen to be all doomsday’d and unable to read this note then you won’t mind me saying that I never wanted to write this anyway… It was just needed, because to spread fear and ignorance based upon an idea and not any facts is simply wrong. There are so many other things to spread, like peanut butter, jelly, mayo, germs, disease or even legs when being frisked by the TSA officer at the airport. Fear doesn’t need to be in the mix of things being spread. Have a great weekend and check back soon for the Halloween blog I’m working on. Should be fun… or crap; either way you should read it so I am not just writing notes to myself like a crazy man.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Sunday, Bloody Sunday!

As a people we learn from our past, we learn from the history of others that have come before us. Walked the path and blazed the trail (add any of the cliche statements you’d like). I have found that by looking back from time to time it helps me discover why I’ve turned out the way I have. Though I think that I would have eventually reached the same point, but possibly with a slightly less sardonic tone to my daily interactions with those meager creatures I share a kinship too by species. Though I doubt it. I grew up in church, like most who are raised in the midwest. Church is a weekly affair including the weekly allotment of Hymns. I remember one conversation I overheard between two of the deacons of the church debating on a radical idea of including “modern” christian music in the worship music on Sunday morning services. Looking back this is a rather silly thing to debate, it would be like me debating with a fellow pickle enthusiast over the inclusion of Kosher dill relish as a option to the traditional sweet relish we use here in the midwest. It doesn’t matter, it’s just pickles. Though this topic of debate was rather divisive throughout my youth among the elders of the church. Though I’d preferred Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit to be on the table rather than a “new hymn” that was actually slightly less than one hundred years old.

I have some fond memories of seeing old ladies crying their eyes out at these songs. They are fond because I always had a view of the morbidity of these songs glorification of the grotesque. Looking back at this bit of my history it makes more sense why I tend to be a bit twisted in my sense of humor and what is offensive to me. Let’s take a peak at what I used to sing each Sunday at the good ol’ save yer soul church service.

The Old Rugged Cross

On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross,

The emblem of suffering and shame;

And I love that old cross where the dearest and best

For a world of lost sinners was slain.

So I’ll cherish the old rugged cross,

Till my trophies at last I lay down;

I will cling to the old rugged cross,

And exchange it some day for a crown.

O that old rugged cross, so despised by the world,

Has a wondrous attraction for me;

For the dear Lamb of God left His glory above
To bear it to dark Calvary.

In that old rugged cross, stained with blood so divine,

A wondrous beauty I see, 

For ’twas on that old cross Jesus suffered and died,

To pardon and sanctify me.

To the old rugged cross I will ever be true;

Its shame and reproach gladly bear;

Then He’ll call me some day to my home far away,

Where His glory forever I’ll share.

Now let’s play a little game of switcheroo. I’m going to replace each of the word “cross” with “Electric Chair” perhaps this will illistrate how screwed up this song is.

The Old Rugged Electric Chair

On a hill far away stood an old rugged electric chair,

The emblem of suffering and shame;

And I love that old electric chair where the dearest and best

For a world of lost sinners was slain.

So I’ll cherish the old rugged electric chair,

Till my trophies at last I lay down;

I will cling to the old rugged electric chair,

And exchange it some day for a crown.

O that old rugged electric chair,
so despised by the world,

Has a wondrous attraction for me;

For the dear Lamb of God left His glory above

To bear it to dark Alcatraz .

In that old rugged electric chair,
stained with blood so divine,

A wondrous beauty I see,

For ’twas on that old electric chair Jesus suffered and died,

To pardon and sanctify me.

To the old rugged electric chair I will ever be true;

Its shame and reproach gladly bear;

Then He’ll call me some day to my home far away,

Where His glory forever I’ll share.

Gasp! My word! That’s just blasphemy! Come on I take it, tell me how you feel? I hope you laughed a bit. Yes, I’m poking fun at your old faithful song. Let’s take a look at this in a practical light. By replacing one object in the song of equal task I’ve illustrated how strange singing this song is. At least I hope it makes sense in this light! As a culture the weekly singing of one of the most famous hymns in America we were no better than going to see the prisoner executed at the gallows or in the chair. We think capitol punishment is rather crude now days, though some might argue it is needed as a deterant to others from committing the same crimes. If you want I can go further into this one song, but I think I’ve illustrated my point with this one.
Another great song that christians love to sing in the midwest is Nothing But The Blood. This one I will add commentary to each verse because I simply can’t resist.
Nothing But The Blood

What can wash away my sin? (Lava Soap and a shot of whisky works for me)

Nothing but the blood of Jesus; (Oh my bad, didn’t know we needed to cut someone.)

What can make me whole again? (Stitches?)

Nothing but the blood of Jesus. (Oh, umm not sure how that will work. I mean maybe if he bled on you and it scabbed over somehow. But he might have a blood born pathogen you don’t want... just saying.)

Oh! precious is the flow
That makes me white as snow; (I like clorox too!)

No other fount I know,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus. ( Really? Blood is really hard to get out of clothes and never leaves anything white!)
For my pardon, this I see,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus; (I could be wrong, but I don’t know of any pardons written by a government official ever written in blood. Pretty sure that doesn’t meet the industry standards of Black or Blue ink on contracts.)

For my cleansing this my plea,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus. (Geez, with the blood again. I would recommend an alcohol base for cleansing anything, or the bleach.)

Nothing can for sin atone,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus; (So I have to go vampire on a mexican called Jesus? Not cool man!)

Naught of good that I have done,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus. (So being good doesn’t cut it, you have to cut a jew... or a mexican.... This makes no sense.)

This is all my hope and peace,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus; (We all know peace doesn’t come from blood, it comes from bombs dropped from big fucking air planes! At least that is what Pres. Bush said... kind of...)

This is all my righteousness,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus. (So you are a righteous man because you have my lawn guys blood? I’m pretty sure he will want that back. He might have been banking that at the local Red Cross or something. )

Now by this I’ll overcome—
Nothing but the blood of Jesus, (Herpes isn’t cured by blood, so no overcoming that man.)
Now by this I’ll reach my home—
Nothing but the blood of Jesus. (Hold on! Wait right there! Are you saying that blood is actually an alternative fuel? What the hell man! Why aren’t we all researching that!)

Glory! Glory! This I sing—
Nothing but the blood of Jesus, (Oh man, back with the “yeah blood” thing... it’s really getting old.)
All my praise for this I bring—
Nothing but the blood of Jesus. ( Are you kidding me? Really? Still with the blood issue... Wait... I’ve got it! This whole song is really singing the virtues of Blood Magic! Why didn’t I see that before? Man I feel silly now for making fun of this song. )

Did you know that with one simple search of with a criteria of “Hymn ‘blood’” you will get back 12.9 million results? If you go to and simply type in “blood” you will get back 803 hymns about Blood! The obsession with blood in church is amazing! Though the more disturbing thing is that all these songs written about death, brutal public execution is looked upon as a great thing. A act that should be put upon the same pedestal of a soldier throwing himself on a grenade to save his comrades. This kind of adoration is something that should not be the norm to rational people. Please think before invoking blood magic people. Hymns are all good fun till someone realizes they are filled with public execution, imaginary friends and blood magic. Sounds silly but read what you sing on Sunday morning and think.

Here is a little something fun from

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Apocalypse Now? Maybe?

Hang your head and cry, tear out your hair and weep for the lost masses yet to come! It’s been officially announced that the end of the world will now happen on October 21, 2011. I have a plan my fellow human beings! I have a dream, a vision, a hope for a better world. On October 21 it is prophesied that the world will fall to a great destruction. It will be “quick” and we will all cease to exist. As a rational being who has seen more than just Mr. Camping’s insanity before I look forward to this day. If the apocalypse does happen then we will all be killed violently and thus cease to exist ending any frustration we might have over the doomsday clock ticking continuously for the last 2000 years or more. But! If it does NOT end I have a plan that should be taken into consideration. This is not born out of malice or hatred of the old coot, but out of a humanitarian need to assist in making this man’s life worth something. To bring some sort of validity to a man that by then will be 90 would in a sense provide me with a bit of joy and fulfillment in my life personally. So here is my plan laid out in a few simple steps.

1.ZOMBIES! ! !
2.Road Trip to Mr. Camping’s home in Alameda Ca.
4.A Hollywood company to donate thousands of gallons of fake blood and body parts!

Here is how this should go down. I submit to you that we dress as zombies the night of Oct 20 with thousands of other volunteers all in glorious zombie regalia! We march on his street dressed in gore, missing body parts and entrails dragging behind us and blood flooding the streets. But be respectful about it and remain off his lawn of course, as to not break the trespassing laws of his private property. Upon his waking he will eventually look out the window to see a street filled with walking corpses, people eating flesh and stumbling about with vacant eyes. We will need at least one person to run screaming through the crowd who will reach his porch begging asylum from the apocalypse then run away as he is opening the door. Only to be brought down and “devoured” by the zombies. This will do two things; first it will provide some much needed entertainment for me personally since work has been rather unfulfilling as of late. Second, it will fulfill his vision of the end of the world. Who knows maybe he will drop dead from the excitement and will get to “meet his maker”. Good deed of the day = DONE!

As for the rest of the believers out there that actually think this guy is right even after his botched attempt the other day, please be aware that we will do our best to take care of the earth while you are gone. If that be a few hours or years, decades, centuries or millions of years; we will do our best without you. I do have a couple requests of you before you go though. Those of us in the baby eating society called heathen atheist ask that as you depart this mortal coil you leave the doors to your residents unlocked so that we can donate your belongings to needy people, offer shelter for less fortunate, provide food an shelter for the masses of downtrodden you left behind in the wake of the Christian mass exit on Oct 21. Your cooperation will be greatly appreciated as perhaps the greatest single act of charity that the Christian community has provided the world. We do hope you have a safe trip to the afterlife and that the comet….err I mean space ship…. No that’s not it either… well whatever it is you are riding to meet god this time around. Don’t forget to bring a towel, Douglas Addams was right in saying that you never know when or how you might need a towel when you travel. With this in mind I leave you all with these words. If the world does end and those of us who happen to not believe are left behind know that it wasn’t for lack of trying on your part to convince us with your scare tactics, hate mongering, violence or continued support of TBN. It was simply because there is not enough evidence to support the idea that the world will end just because a book written by nomadic tribes in a bronze age Mesopotamia said it would. Plus it is just plain silly.

P.S. Be sure to leave the ketchup out in case your children happen to not make it in the rapture. We baby eating monsters do so love the taste of the young ones…… MMMM

Friday, May 20, 2011

It's The End Of The World As We Know It, And I Feel Fine.

Judgment day is here! Bring out your dead! Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war! Have a Coke and a candy bar! Ah fuck I’m out. May 21, 2011 is upon us and according to Harold Camping we are all about to be screwed! All the Christians are going to be raptured away. That is right, in less than 24 hours all (myself included) the heathen, Jew, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, Mormon, neo Nazi, queers and atheist will all be boned right in the butt! Yes it is time for all the Tea Party members… wait… Uhh REPUBLICANS…… no, not just them…. Hang on I have this written down somewhere…. Oh Ignorant blind Christian pigs who can be observed in their natural habitat of shouting hate at gay rallies will finally get to go to heaven! By heaven I mean going to bed tomorrow night with the taste of anticipation only to wake May 22, 2011 to find they are forced to say “FUCK, I got that one wrong.”
The Doomsayers have been out in force lately spouting the end is near. This is something many of us are very familiar with, especially those who have grown up in the Midwest. It was the side dish with every meal, a thought provoking piece to ponder over while eating. I remember as a child hearing my mother say “Adam, eat all your peas because Jesus could come back any moment and you might not get to go because you didn’t finish your peas like I told you too. That is disobeying your parents and that’s a sin!” Looking into those fishbowl eyes of hers I felt two things, first was the urge to pick my plate up and throw it against the wall while screaming “You are a fucking liar, I haven’t finished my peas in six months and look Jesus still hasn’t come!” The second was that sideways glance too dad who simply looked over rolled his eyes and said “Son, just eat your food.” My over active imagination though would from time to time kick in and I would find myself imagining my family members one by one flying through the roof of our tiny house ripping holes in the ceiling, severing arms and legs as they are pulled through the wood and shingles. I would suddenly find myself eating slower thinking “I don’t want to go in the rapture unless I am outside!” But like any child you have doubt in your own thinking and eventually start to think that mom might be right and a fear of living for seven whole long eternal years on earth without my mom would be impossible to survive; Especially knowing that at the end of the seven years if I was not already dead I would get killed anyway! If you asked me now how I would feel about seven years without mom telling me I need to eat the peas on my plate I wouldn’t be able to say “sign me up” fast enough.
Back to Harold Camping! This chap was born July 19, 1921 and claims to know when the world will end. Yes if you are wondering this is the same Harold Camping who claimed that September 6th 1994 would be the end of the world as well. He has since retracted that statement saying his math was off. He believes he has cracked the ultimate question by math, and for that I say “congrats… quack”. This is not to discredit the work of mathematicians, in fact I believe that the world has and will continue to run on mathematics. Nerds stay strong! We need your braininess! Harold though is a different sort, a graduate from University of California with a degree in civil engineering. An impressive degree to those of us normal folk who do well to balance a personal budget at home. I would almost give him credit for his mathematics if it weren’t for the simple fact that he is a quack. So much so that virtually every major Christian group have disavowed his fanatical approach to the end of the world. I was tempted to chalk this up to him being rather old and going senile 89 year old, except that he has been making predictions and outlandish claims since 1988. Now for those who are doing the math in your head that was 23 years ago which would have made him on this date in 1988 sixty six years old. At 66 Harold should have still had his wits and full faculty of his cognitive reasoning, which leads me to now believe that he has been a quack long before his launch into the public eye. Mr. Camping claims that May 21, 2011 will be the start of the end of the world, the day when all pre-chosen Christians will rapture into heaven leaving us unworthy behind to suffer until the end. Mr. Camping has been kind enough to let us know that our “end” will come on October 21, to be honest I feel slightly cheated of time. The bible offers at least seven years of tribulation prior to the end! But perhaps Harold just doesn’t care since he will be gone tomorrow anyway.
Personally I find this exciting, I am inclined to have a Rapture Party! I want to gather all my Christian friends together, believers and none believers waiting for that fateful moment when bodies go flying though roofs and through windshields! I’d be excited to see them get what they have hoped, prayed and begged for all the years to come to pass. But my skepticism prevents me from really believing. Either way though it could be fun, beer bratwurst and bodies flying through roofs.. My place May 21, 2011 we will keep the party going till the Christians are gone! Really I think it could be fun! Besides if it doesn’t work out I will be offering counseling sessions on coping without a god.
P.S. BYOB! Don’t drink mine ya bastards!

Thursday, March 17, 2011

What The World Needs Now Is Less People!

I want to start by saying that if any senator or public figure actually ever reads this, I will vote for you if you propose a bill that mandates people must be IQ and sociologically tested prior to earning a permit to reproduce! That being said I want to revisit the events that have led me to a point of near regurgitation. This evening I happen to work late and after nearly 14 hours of work I wanted nothing more than something simple and quick to eat before heading home. I did not want to clean up after cooking for myself, I also felt no need to eat someplace that waited on me, so to Taco Bell I went. this choice of eateries proved to be a mistake on many levels this evening. I was joined by a friend of mine who happens to share my disdain for most of humanity and thus also suffered through the travesty of this evenings events.

First I want to touch on a sociological issue that is near and dear to my heart. Population control! Reports from a research group at the UN suggest that the total population of earth will be over nine billion by the year 2050. This fact is a disturbing thing, the task of producing enough food for that number of people is currently in question, we are in for some difficult times ahead if people continue to reproduce at this rate. A couple things to consider, if a man and a woman love each other dearly I fully support their union and hope they share many happy moments together. If that couple chooses to start a family they should be tested. Not the standard “Are you blood relative” test to attempt to avoid birth defects. But a battery of test that would approximate the likelihood of this couples offspring contributing to the fat/lazy/stupid syndrome in America particularly. What do I mean by this? Simply that if this couple both test low on an intelligence exam and also exhibit habits of a inbred stupid redneck they should both be sterilized. Of course there should be parameters that could determine if this genetic de-evolution could be above a 75% chance then obviously they should not be allowed to have children. I want you to follow along with me into the future and keep in mind two things. Stupid people often have four to seven kids, smart people typically have one, at most two and some have none at all. I think we would all agree that the future of our race is dependent upon smart and industrious children being born today. The problem lies in the math, if smart people have less children than dumb people, the dumb people will eventually outbreed the smart people and the world will be run by creatures that would make our Neanderthal ancestors look like Einstein. I do believe that some intelligence can come from unintelligent people. For instance, my parents were average at best but gave birth to a brilliant brother of mine who is finishing his PhD at a renown university. I do not pose that all idiots breeding will result in only idiots being born. But the likelihood of an increasing number of stupid idiotic fucks being born will lead to the eventual outbreeding of intelligent people. Eventually the stupid shits will be forced to take up the positions of public office and make decisions that will effect the rest of the existence.

Example: Redneck idiot raised by two redneck “good christian” idiots who think NASCAR is the best sport ever created (because it’s all about driving fast) is elected President. A simple conversation between this christian right wing redneck president and a stupid religious zealot Islamic leader, neither can or will attempt to learn about each others culture resulting in a argument that leads to a dick measuring contest. Results of such a contest is the launch of nukes and the end of humanity. All because stupid idiots were allowed to breed. Do you want that on your head? I know I don’t want to be the one responsible for allowing such an atrocity to occur, so I propose we start by regulating who can and cannot have offspring!

How did I get to the idea of population control from sitting and eating dinner at Taco Bell? It started as many other trips to a fast food restaurant, by me pulling in and hating my fat ass for stopping there but not motivated enough to actually cook something worth eating at home. The first item on my plate? Guilt with a side of hot sauce! The man taking my order, a gentleman who at first glance didn’t seem to belong working in a fast food joint. That is until I noticed the scar tissue around entry points in his arms where needless had obviously been used repeatedly. My first thought was “good for him to take a job and attempt to get his life straight!” ok you are right, that wasn’t my first thought. “Look at this mother fucking junkie, better not drop his dime bag in my fucking cinnamon twist!” Though despite his obvious setbacks he was one of the more accurate and polite employees I’ve seen in a Taco Bell. My number was given and I filled my drink, in short order my food was placed on the counter and a halfway house reject yelled at the top of his lungs “ORDER 17!” Fully aware that I was standing three feat away. Not only did I give him a look of “I hope you fucking die”, but expressed my displeasure by saying “Dude you don’t have to yell, I’m right here!” I took my tray containing my order and retreated to a booth in hopes to consume the semi-meat products that Taco Bell is passing off as actual taco meat. My friend was already in the midst of creating a cocktail out of the different taco sauces, he whips together a mix that turns to a color that reminded me of something I coughed up once while suffering from a bronchial infection. This is the same guy who will put garlic salt on everything, I mean everything! If he ate PB&J I’m sure he would add garlic salt. I of course being of a lower life form incapable of understanding that all things edible require garlic salt disregarded his idiosincrqocies as brain damage suffered durring a childhood fratricide attempt by his brother. It takes no more than two minutes before a family of five to approach the counter to order their dinner, upon hearing their voices I immediately wanted to spit my burrito out and run out of the building for fear of hearing someone praise the finery of American cheese because it’s Amrricin! (Redneck for “American”) Lucky for me it wasn’t that simple, they had to parade their obese children across the small lobby and come to a conclusion that there was only one place in the restaurant they could possibly, which was of course next to my table. I was accosted by their un-showered disgusting putrid body oder from the booth next to me. Not only were these disgusting examples of “salt of the earth” types, but the typical redneck idiots who by one conversation and a simple mannerism forced both my friend and I to leave speaking loudly as we made our exit about the sad state of the world when one can’t teach their pre-teen children to chew with their mouth closed. I lie not my friend, out of the five sitting at the table only one had their mouth closed while they were eating. It wasn’t slightly cracked mouth because you are sick and can’t breath out your nose kind of chewing. This was the “LOOK AT ME, I HAVE SHIT FALLING OUT OF MY MOUTH!” I would have like to have slapped the parents upside their fat ill mannered heads, but caution bade me otherwise. I would more than likely have pulled back a hand full of grease and maggots from these nasty bastards, who evidently did not understand that running water isn’t just for “dem fancy city folks”. Not only were the majority of this family displaying the inner workings of their mouths during the process of chewing food prior to swallowing it. They decided they must converse while chewing like cattle. Conversations around a dinner table is a fine tradition observed in many households around the world, this is one such traditions I have enjoyed from time to time myself. Though with a slightly different take on manors than which was going on next to me. My friends and family avoid talking, chewing and spitting all at the same time. Throughout their meal enough food ended up on their shirts to feed a starving family in Hatti for a month! Now for the fun part, this is the quintessential defining point that sold me on the idea that this family should never have been given the chance to create more idiots. The conversation is as follows.

Father: “Now da best kindz of foodz is smoked! Smoked ribs, smoked turkey, smoked green beans, smoked corn on da cob, smoked fish, smoked cheese, smoked....”

This guy prattled on for a several minutes all the while his children sat shoveling food into their traditionally big fat american faces with blank expressions that gave every indication that they were functioning zombies with minimal brain functionality. His wife was doing little more than agreeing with his statement that smoked everything was better than anything, ever! While of course allowing mass quantities of rice and taco sauce to fall on her size 5XL Moo Moo she decided to wear as a shirt.

It was at this point while sitting next to these people my friend and I reach our quota of stupid for the day. My friend looks at me struggling to retain the food he just ate and says “Why can’t this kid chew with his fucking mouth closed? I mean it’s fucking disgusting!” To which I respond “I can’t believe these assholes. When did it become “ok” to neglect teaching your children to chew with their mouths closed?” Those who know me know I don’t whisper things like this, neither do I yell them. I speak plainly and openly, and anyone who is not wrapped up in their world of chanting the praise of smoked foods would have heard our conversation and taken offense to us, who happen to be taking offense to this families existence. But these fine examples of prehistoric beast were so wrapped up in their topic of fire and meat that our conversation went unnoticed by them. After but a few more moments my friend looks at me and says “I think I’ll be sick if I keep watching this.” I had adverted my eyes from the creatures that should have been aborted prior to existing, but like a bad car wreck I assume he was unable to pull his gaze away. Being a kind and thoughtful person who always puts the needs of others ahead of myself as long as those needs fall in line with my own. I agreed that it was time to exit the fine eating establishment and return to a more civilized location. Though to find anything more civilized one would not need to venture further than the exit to the Taco Bell.

Upon reflection of these events I spent part of my day trying to justify their existence. To this task I failed, I could not find for one reason why these people should be there. There is little to no excuse for their lack of physical appearance, they could afford to take their children to eat, they can certainly afford to teach them how to eat with their mouths closed. These people could have certainly understood that basic hygiene is now... well rather “basic” to society. Unfortunately they seemed to have lacked the basic upper brain function to understand that they do not need to live life like savage beast who see that the greatest feats in the last 500 years was that someone had learned to smoke cheddar! I was left with thoughts bounding from areas of manual labor needs to test subjects on humans over innocent animals. none of the ideas I came up with served more than to exasperate my cognitive abilities and lead back to the first thought I had. These people should not have been allowed to breed! They seem to offer no contribution to society except to encourage population control. I thus propose that each person wanting to either conceive or adopt a child to raise as their own must subject themselves to a test to that will assist in determining the likelihood that the couple attempting to foster a child are fit to teach the child to fucking close their mouth when they chew.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Goodbye Dell. Hello Macbook!

I am writing today on my new MacBook Pro and I feel slightly naughty for it. I am one of the many who have for years been a faithful little lamb listening to what the media and corporations have sold us on “Dude, you’re getting a Dell”. I feel naughty due to the immense elation I feel as the buttons depress under my nimble fingertips. They typing joy I am receiving while writing these words are greater than the purchase of my Jeep; of which I am extremely fond of. Perhaps it is the newness of the laptop or the sleek design with which this machine is created, but regardless I am as happy as a gentleman who just paid $1300 for a hooker who just happened to provide the best sexual services money could buy. I know I just compared my laptop to having sex with a prostitute and perhaps that is a bad analogy, never the less I feel extremely happy and relieved to have made a purchase that is proving to be as satisfying as this.

Though the joys I am currently experiencing I am also suffering. Yes suffering, I am suffering with a fear that due to my defector status from the PC world that my other machinery in my house will rise up in a Matrix type revolt that might lead to the creation of Skynet and ultimately the destruction of man. That is if a John Connor doesn’t step forward to fight the machine threat that is being birthed in my home currently. I lay awake at night feeling that at the moment I begin to slumber my Dell laptop will spring upon me, crushing my face between it’s withering screen and keyboard thus ending my short defect from the PC world. Does this effect my determination to continue with the conversion over to a platform that offers stability and a robust system focused on simplifying my daily life? No! In fact the rebellious part of me screams for me to write, to email and surf the internet in plain view of my former laptop, my former love. Like all relationships though people grow and change, sometimes they grow closer, but for me and my PC laptop it has ended like so many of my personal relationships. With a cringing fear that at any moment that crazy bitch might slit my throat while I’m sleeping. What? Am I the only guy who is actually concerned for his wellbeing when it comes to his ex’s? Regardless I find myself in a position that I have for many years harbored a great desire to be in. How might I have come to the decision to leave behind all that I know of the PC world in favor of uncharted waters that could very well prove to be hazardous to my health due to the constant threat of my abandoned PC’s strangling me with their power cords? Follow along with me as I take you back a few years and join me in my attempt to extract key points that led me to the place I am today, finding writing bliss on my MacBook Pro.

The year was 1998 and I started work as a bright eyed 18 year old young man at an outsourcing call center that happened to have a contract with a PC company that was quite popular at the time. For obvious reasons I can’t disclose who they were on here without some sort of possible legal repercussion, besides that information is irrelevant to my story. I led a slightly sheltered life when it came to exposure to technology, I was always the last of my friends to have the latest gaming console while computers were for rich people. Rich I was not, though somehow we had an old Commodore 2000 that my parents kept as a tool to teach us to type. Unfortunately they neglected to ensure that a proper word processing software was on the system thus resulting in horrible grammar. Compiled with a lack of teaching and you have a horrible excuse for a writer. This is a problem I suffer with even after years of attempting to correct my grammatical deficiency. An issue I am sure my sister in-law finds very annoying if she ever reads my blog or facebook notes. my grammar is a far cry from 1998, but still rather poor. To return to my story I joined the computer support company with no experience in computers, but a joy and excitement was sparked in me when I started to attend the training classes. I learned to support these machines, their hardware and software, customer interaction and a rule that to this day I carry with me. “The customer is always lying!” Three months of training and many weeks on a training team taking phone calls taught me many of the processes used in building, maintaining and repairing PC’s. Inside of six months I had worked my way into advanced technical support and within a year I was made supervisor and beta tester for some of the new products. My love for PC was beyond that of religious zealots throwing themselves at a a wall wailing for a flying spaghetti monster to save them. Well maybe not that much, but by all means I was passionate about PC’s. I was aware through my work that Mac was around and that it was a shadow of what Windows and the great PC builders were doing. At least that is what I was told and believed. I purchased my own PC not long after going to work for the advanced technical support group and made many friends who were also enthusiast. They tinkered in their spare time at building their own PC’s from spare parts scavenged from work, I was never brave enough to pilfer from the company. Some sort of bronze age ethics in my upbringing prevented me from steeling from the place that had opened my world up to the wonders of technology. Later I moved on from the technical side and joined an internet department and supported the software of a couple internet providers. I missed my technical support days, but I was learning new and wondrous things about the world wide web and how it interacted with PC’s. I found a great many things on the internet, items to research and learn about. In fact much of my random information has come from the world wide web. As for any of it being accurate is still up for debate. I did learn to defer to a more knowledgable person on a topic if I happened to have one nearby, this is when I found out that a “dirty Sanchez” wasn’t a person by the name of Sanchez that hadn’t bathed. I found that porn was something that was better when you bought it on DVD at the time instead of waiting for two days for a five minute video to download on a 56k connection. But still my love for technology grew like an insidious cancer attempting to destroy your life.

My origins in PC were deep, I loved everything about the PC. It had style and a commonality that proved to be an easy topic of discussion for everyone I knew. Most of those I knew were from work and either worked on the technical account or had worked there and thus were nerds like myself. Though I had one friend who was a “Mac user”. A term we treated as one does an addict of a harmful drug that was ruining his life. We often tried to have interventions with this friend, each time met with staunch rebuke and denial of any problem existing. Little did I know that at the time this friend was right in that Mac was a better system to use. My life continued on moving from one desktop PC to the next, until the time came when I purchased my first PC built laptop. First let me say that anyone who bad mouths dell for their laptops didn’t have the experience I have had, I had a positive experience that lasted six years. I purchased my Dell Laptop Inspiron E1505 with a true excitement of enjoying a portable device that provided the same technology in my desktop PC. It’s 17 inch screen and it’s light 11 pounds proved to be a great wonder to me. I took this laptop with me to places I had no reason to take it. I would take it to the park when I was walking my dog. Though I never used it in the park I did have it in the car, how it was never stolen is still a wonder to me. Silly I know but I’m a nerd and it can’t be helped. I have used that laptop nearly daily for the last six years. I have taken it with me all over the country, it has seen it’s share of airports and had more than one beverage spilled on it. Yet this device continued to work. That is not to say it didn’t crash on me for the first time one week after my warranty ran out. I was forced to recover what little data I could and start over. I lost writings, videos and precious things that couldn’t be replaced. I had some stuff backed up but not enough. I have heard of two types of people in this world, those who backup and those who haven’t yet. I fell into that first category, a problem I quickly resolved after I had reinstalled every piece of software on my laptop. If I had not had the experience with supporting PC’s in the past I would have been at a loss. Things were good once I had everything reinstalled, it only took three days to get most of my stuff back. Unfortunately many of my programs that had come pre-installed were no longer available to me, including a partition on my hard drive that contained items I would have liked to have accessed again. I was a faithful PC user though and suffered the crash as a hazard of having technology, like getting the Clap from a cheap bar slut after one too many drinks at a local dive. It wasn’t anything I couldn’t get over another words. Then the second crash came, then a third... then the blue screens of death that offered seventeen ways technology would kill humanity if you read all the data on that blue screen. I had of course started seeing more and more advertisements for the iPhone and other iPod products, all made by Apple. I happen to be working for a company that had a give away for an iPod which I happen to win. I took home this iPod thinking it a neat little toy that might be useful when I go to the gym but nothing truly more than that. It came with a software fairly unknown to me at the time called iTunes. Little did I know that this tiny little program would lead to the very laptop I am writing on today. I fell in love with all the options and advanced recommendations iTunes came up with based upon my music library. I upgraded to the iPod Touch when it was released and found an addiction that has lead to my life being completely connected and controlled by my iPhone. Mac had found it’s way into my home and I was sold on the devices I had. They simply worked and worked simply, intuitively and quickly. The only problem was that my Dell didn’t play nice with my iTunes all the time and often crashed the entire system, sometimes forcing me to remove the power supply to turn the device off or the horrid noise of screaming dying children and slaughtered animals would continue to emit from the laptop. I started to research MacBook’s as an alternative based upon the recommendation of a few people I happen to know. They were convinced that Mac was the only way to go if you wanted a system that simply worked. I was dismayed at the cost of a MacBook and thus set about forcing my degrading and outdated laptop to work until I could either purchase a new PC or find a solid reason to jump ship, abandon all I knew of laptops and desktops in favor of uncharted waters of the Mac World.

A war was birthed inside me, a feeling of being in a relationship too long was ever about me. I felt stale and unloved by my PC, I felt it didn’t consider my needs anymore. Demands were made of me, “I need more memory to run internet explorer”; “I don’t have enough hard drive space to save this video” “My video card can’t run this graphical display setting” all the while my iPhone and iPod were steadily working away without complaint. Recently my laptop decided it was time to have a fit and started making noises that indicated that it was plotting my demise. A plan to wait until I was lulled into a sense of false security then explode it’s hard drive, thus committing computer suicide but attempting to take me out with it. I am pretty sure it was aware that I was researching and talking with another laptop behind it’s back. I have a strong and deep past with PC, like a girlfriend that you just can’t quite give up because you have been with her for too long. The other day I was at work with both the Dell website up and the Mac site up, I was toggling back and forth. The struggle to stay with the familiar problems, the inconsistent software and inevitable crashes that were sure to come. Or to dive into a world unknown to me, but glamorized by nearly every TV show I watched. I read reviews and personal accounts of people making the switch. It was like attempting to give up smoking, or driving around in a old van with the windows blacked out looking for the next person to kidnap and force into church. Wait, that’s a different story... The war waged and it wasn’t until I actually spoke to a rep at Macintosh that offered advice, that wasn’t pushy, nor arrogant but rather very helpful. I spoke at length regarding my concerns with switching platforms and with a seasoned experience in his voice he answered every question I came up with. In the end he asked a simple question, a question that I had asked myself many times over again. “Do you want a laptop that just works?” of course the answer to that is a resounding YES! I placed the order not for the most expensive or largest laptop. In fact the sale rep had no input as to which laptop size I should get, his concern was making sure I got exactly what I wanted and needed. In the end I am sure that he didn’t make a sale that would win him a bonus or a prize for salesman of the month. What he did though is earn a customer who has not stopped talking about the friendly service and care I received when I called.

I look back to my order I placed with Dell, the sales rep talked me into going for the biggest most expensive laptop he could get me to buy. It wasn’t what I needed or what I wanted to start with. Though I can say it was a durable laptop that lasted six plus years, but it wasn’t what I started out wanting. Mac took the time to listen and quickly develop a relationship with me as a customer, they listened to what I wanted and created a laptop with what I do on a daily basis in mind. I have to say that I’ve only had my MacBook a short time, but in the time I’ve had it I could not be more satisfied. This laptop just works. It is light, functional and provides me with tools and software that fits my world. I look forward to the time I will have with this laptop in the hope and expectation that I will be “one of those Mac people” for a long time to come.

Also if Angela or Angela happens to read this, you were right and can say “I told you so” any time.