Monday, April 28, 2014
The state of Florida is in grave danger of possibly separating from the mainland due to a recently discovered subterranean "cave bridge". Jules Verne-like submarine "strange".
AP -- A recently discovered map found in a chest of collectables, carbon-dated to approximately 1855, illustrates the passage of an ancient submarine passing beneath the northern section of the Florida "penninsula" (noted as Westland on the map). The map appeared to be something of a novelty... that is, until underwater topography of the region obtained from a NASA GPR satellite suggests that, in fact, there may very well be truth behind this mysterious page of parchment -- and with it some real-world fear.
"The areas where this submarine-looking vehicle enters and exits the Florida peninsula, between St. John and St. Augustine from the Atlantic, and Deadman Bay from the Gulf, are noted for their ever-changing, sedimentary coastal sea beds, a fact that might have contributed to a discovery of such a cave bridge being unattended to until now," explains Joe Nigro (I swear that's his name... look him up), a geographic information systems specialist and archaeologist by training. "NASA utilized ground penetrating radar, or GPR, to uncover what appears to be a sea cave that bridges both coastlines, or a 'cave bridge', hidden beneath the sediment".
But the excitement was soon replaced by a growing concern that this cave bridge, length-wise crossing a state already known to be weakly connected to the mainland, might sever Florida from the contiguous 48 in the event of a powerful Hurricane striking the region between Two Saints and Deadman Bay.
The uplift from the low pressure eye might "snap" Florida in two, with the lower half slipping off the continental shelf. It is thought that the drop of the Blake Plateau, on the Atlantic side, would veer the state east in such an event, ultimately leading the land mass to the inescapable depths of the Blake Escarpment, where (according to experts) the entire state may be devoured by the Atlantic Ocean.
But not everybody is convinced of this untimely demise.
Barry "Boon" Dokkes, of the Southeastern States Field Office of the Bureau of Land Management, raises concerns about the validity of the map. "Nobody questions that there may or may not have been submarines back in the 1850's. And nobody questions that such a submarine might resemble as such described by author Jules Verne of Captain Nemo fame, who lived in the same period... but Kraken? Come on, people! That's ridiculous! It looks like a cartoonist drew it. This very well could have been a page from a children's book." He added: "So, we're saying that Florida is doomed because of a page from an ancient child's book? I'm not sure Amadeus ever drew children's books, " he confidently chuckled.
We think he meant Nostradamus.
He also noted such a cave bridge might really have been nothing more than a old deep water river. "All the captains needed to know was where the inlets were. Once you're on the river, there's no need for cartography, since it's only taking you to one place."
When asked if a deep water river can disappear in a little more than 150 years, Dokkes smirked and replied "Ask California." When asked if Florida has ever endured drought conditions similar to California, he blurted, "Sure," and promptly ended the phone conversation.
But Sir Henry Hillhurst of the British Cartographic Society, owns a vastly different opinion. "In reviewing the satellite imagery, topographical and geological information of the region, as well as the map itself, I can confidently conclude that no deep water river ever existed where this cave bridge lies. The depth of it is disturbing, extending beyond what we consider to be the thin water table the state currently rests upon".
As for the style of art, Hillhurst noted that the French maps of the era were inferior to those of the British Navy, and routinely employed novices to ink the parchments. As for the Kraken image, Hillhurst exclaimed: "Completely factual. The British Navy has a long and dreadful history with these beasties of the deep." He added that the Blake Escarpment would be a perfect place to run across this most terrifying of creatures, a monster nearly as horrific as the "dragons of the coastal highlands".
Rick Scott, Governor of Florida, ha already alluded to "concerned Floridians" contacting his office, repeatedly asking about that incident where that "dang bunny done saw up in half". Scott's office calmly noted that such an event was nothing more than an old Bugs Bunny cartoon and nothing more.
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
AP -- Today, CNN publicly chastised the online Malaysian Times for running a front page cartoon suggesting, utilizing humor aimed specifically at CNN's coverage, that the disappearance of Malaysian Air Flight 370 was the work of alien creatures staging their own reality television program.
"They took a shot at Discovery Channel as well, but that network is widely known for their embellished reality fare. CNN is an entirely different story... pardon the pun," exclaimed Assistant News Director Charlie Mangles, with the kind of disgruntled yet cleverly manipulated dialogue premeditating the possibility of legal action in the near future.
"We've worked tirelessly through all hours, day and night, to offer the kind of overly-extensive coverage only a 24 hour news network can provide," added Mangles. "Certainly, when Jon Stewart cracked his whip at us, it was entirely expected... but the respected Malaysian Times? CNN can only assume it was a diversionary tactic to cover the foregone conclusion that their air traffic system, as well as their airline standards, are amongst the poorest in the world".
He added that Erin Burnett's "Out Front" program was in the midst of creating a two-hour special on this cover-up, and that the front page cartoon in question had been added late for "discussion punch".
Within the mix is Jon Stewart, noted Politcomedian and host of the popular "Daily Show". Stewart had no comment on his name being mentioned at the center of this melee. According to the reporter at the other end of the incredibly short telephone interview, Stewart either seemed "to be in a considerable amount of pain", or "laughing really hard". The reporter wasn't 100% sure of either. CNN later speculated that Stewart had just undergone surgery to relieve a torn shoulder ligament stemming from throwing those blue index cards on his show "incorrectly".
According to CNN, Wolf Blitzer will have an update on Stewart's condition, complete with insightful infographics and Ph.D pundits, on his "Situation Room" telecast this evening.
As for The Malaysian Times... no comment.
Monday, April 14, 2014
AN OPEN LETTER TO BARACK OBAMA FROM THE VEGANS ALLIANCE
Dear President Barack Obama.
How DARE YOU.
Watching you step into a D.C Five Guys Burgers and proceed to order a herd's worth of cooked flesh as the video cameras captured every second of this moral carnage, nearly forced my raw quinoa to escape my perfectly alkalized stomach. It's accurate that vegans only account for .000000062% of the vote come November of 2016, but WE ARE, sir, a fierce and fiery bunch, and we will NOT, sir, take this spoonful of encrusted lard lightly.
Our movement is growing each day, like moss upon bark within a sustainable forest, and come the '15 campaign, our strength shall be unmatched. Despite radical claims that a vegan diet fails to intake the necessary proteins and vitamins to maintain a high level of cognitive thought and reasoning, our increasing number of members within VeAl are amongst to best-informed, the sharpest of tuned, most well-read, and possess the highest intelligence of any grassroots group. And, as 2018 approaches, any candidate attempting to coat-tail your success may find our pleas to disassociate from you the loudest and most ferment of voices.
We are liberal and would very much enjoy toting our Wheatgrass and Matcha smoothies to the polling stations in November of 2014, after our morning meditation, hike and yoga session, and casting our ballots for the Democratic candidate. Yet, we are at an impasse: We cannot vote for a party which openly supports Ted Nugent's blatantly woodland creature-murdering, flesh-devouring ways; yet, we ALSO cannot vote for a party which supports a President snacking on the dead, hacked, and processed meat of what was once a happy, go-lucky cow who hadn't a care in the world. We also cannot vote for perennial outsider Jack, considering his affiliation with a similar fast food burger chain.
We would openly support the Libertarian candidate.... if we knew who it was.
So, what are we to do? You, sir, have placed us in an unenviable position to simply NOT vote come 2019. As Americans, we are saddened at the prospect of this reality. Yet, our faith in upholding such a devout belief supersedes and and all freedoms bestowed upon us AS American citizens.
But, all is not lost, Mr. President. My friend EarthGoddessDeborahh owns a Raw Vegan restaurant called NOMaste, just a few blocks south of that particular Five Guys location. Visiting her restaurant as the cameras roll would definitely offset the "nearly" indefensible actions on your part that terrible day when you feasted upon the remains of defenseless creatures.
Her number is (202)EARTHGD. Doing so shall reestablish the ever-growing.000000055% of the Vegan vote that just might tip the scales toward a Democratic victory in 2013!
Thank you, and God Bless American
Lion Goddess, Vegan Alliance (VeAl)
Saturday, April 12, 2014
I'm a rotten American. Rotten to the core!
Recently, when news broke that the Australians were considering using their fleet of submarines to help locate the missing Malaysian Air flight 370, a nugget of trivial, ignorant thought raced through my mind at slot car speed:
Australia..... has SUBMARINES????
My apologies for owning such an isolationist mindset, as if the good ol' USA is the only country on planet Earth technologically advanced enough to build a fleet of subs that actually work. Of course, Russia, the UK, France, maybe Japan (if Toyota builds them), and China (from stolen blueprints) all have submarines as well... and perhaps several countries utilizing WW2 hand-me-downs.
I envision Australia as the land of bikinis, barbeques, rugby, jellyfish that kill people, spiders that kill people, and gargantuan hopping mice -- the last one according to classic animation, of which us Americans derive everything we need to know about the world surrounding us. It's a place of fun, free-spirited people with perpetual tans, fantastic personalities, and the occasional decent movie. Many celebrities emanate from Australia, apparently owning a sense of taste and fashion upon arrival. So it's safe to assume they've acclimated themselves to fine dining and designer label while still in Australia, which means Australia has restaurants and clothing stores, too.
Of course, I'm kidding around. Australia is a fantastic continent-unto-itself. One of the great destinations of the world, and a country I'd very much love to visit one day. And, in hindsight, naturally they field a modern, technologically-advanced naval fleet.
For, if they didn't, those box jellyfish wold encapsulate their island nation in a hurry.
Friday, April 11, 2014
With advanced shout out to Jack White -- it truly IS growing harder and harder to be a gentleman, everyday.
It seems, these days, even the simplest of gestures, such as opening a door for an approaching woman, is more often-than-not met with: A) kind of blind indifference likened to that of an interaction between a mortal and thin air; B) a perplexing glance that may or may not suggest the female is seriously considering you might be a serial rapist; or C) the squaking war cry of the post-feminist "angrychick" movement, where the woman fights a never-ending battle against the tyranny of the ever-present sexist pig male who's only being nice as a means to an end... that "end" being the prize inside those Victoria's Secret lace panties and $100 Lululemon yoga pants.
Take note, female race, there IS a D).... the fella is just being a kindly gentleman, and nothing more.
He may already be wed to the woman of his dreams, or currently dating somebody he's had his eye on for some time now, long before YOU arrived on the scene. Perhaps he's old school, and understands that a woman should NEVER open a door if there's a man around to open it FOR her. It's not that he thinks you're weak, nor incapable of understanding exactly HOW a door "opens"-- he's merely trying his hand at knightly chivalry. A hand, by the way, you just went medieval on with the verbal equivalent of a Gatling Gun, peppering him with bullets of disregard and disdain, leading him to question whether or not chivalry is an obsolete social trait within modern society?
The answer: yes.... and no.
Individuals brought up correctly, raised within a household of common courtesy and respect independent of socio-economic status, WILL say "thank you". It's the norm, for with them there is no agenda, nor ulterior motive -- it's simply an act of courtesy and nothing more. To the "Guarded Warriors" (I like to call them that... drives them nuts), their retaliatory strike is a kind of preemptive suit of armor -- protect BEFORE the need for protection actually arises. Perhaps the man really does view the female as a trophy for him to win, and if that is indeed the case his intentions will, soon enough, become all too obvious. But, if this is NOT the case -- if the gentleman is merely "being a gentleman" -- then you've offered that man one more reason to simply no longer care about common courtesy, about being kindly and generous to the female world, about being "the knight".
Perhaps being "the dragon" is a less hurtful solution?
Congratulations, Guarded Warrior. He just became the monster you thought he was, when in fact he never was.... until YOU arrived.
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
CUDDLES THE EASTER BUNNY FINDS HIS WAY INTO THE FOX NEWS HEADQUARTERS, AND BUMPS INTO MEGYN KELLY:
Cuddles: Yo, blondie. I got a beef wit ya.
MK: Good God. Are you REALLY a 6 foot talking rabbit... with a Jersey accent?
Cuddles: Do people take your word as almighty law of the land?
MK: Of course.
Cuddles: Well, if dat can happen, so can I. Anyways, you said Jesus and Santa are white, which would signify -- and stop me if I'm wrong here -- dat YOU think they both exist.
MK: Yes, they're both white. And yes, they both exist.
Cuddle: Hate to rain on your existential parade and all, but if they exist, and you're standing in front of me havin' a conversation, then I must exist too, right?
MK: I think you're confusing existentialism with inductive logic.
Cuddles: I'm a 6 foot cigar-chompin' bunny wit problems. You gonna argue wit me?!!
MK: My mistake. Yes, that's existentialism.
Cuddles: Now, do I exist or not?
MK: I seem to be clear in thought, and I haven't had an "episode" since the bleach incident... and I'm on my medication, haven't smoked weed in a week, and I haven't had any Absinthe since Tuesday. So, concluding that I am currently in my natural and normal "FoxNews Blonde" state of being... then YES, I think you DO exist.
Cuddles: I could be Cenk Uygur in a bunny get-up.
MK: No, no. Liberals aren't THAT bright.
Cuddles: But YOU just said a 6 foot talking bunny rabbit is REAL.
MK: Well because you're standing here talking to me.
Cuddles: I said hi to Dana Perino jus' a moment ago. She ran out of the building screaming in terror.
MK: Did you throw a shoe at her?
Cuddles: Talking bunnies don't wear shoes.
MK: Oh.... then I can't imagine why. You seem nice enough.
Cuddles: I said hi to Chris Wallace. He threw a rock at me.
MK: Oh, that. It's just a little thing he's got with O'Reilly about re-enacting David and Goliath.
Cuddles: O'Reilly in a bunny suit?
MK: He does that sometimes.
Cuddles: Now DAT'S weird!
MK: Yeah. I know, right? That IS weird. But, we love him unconditionally.
Cuddles: You DO remember you're talking to a 6 foot talking bunny.
MK: Of course. I can see you. What's your point?
Cuddles: There is no point. Happy &*%$# Easter, Megyn.
Ben Stein KNOWS law. Ben Stein KNOWS finance. Ben Stein KNOWS Bill O'Reilly and FoxNews. And most importantly, Ben Stein KNOWS how to call attention to himself.
Just not always in the most favorable manner.
The poor are lazy, jealous, and drunk, eh? Yes, it must have been nice as a child, with your father being an economist and presidential advisor. I'm absolutely POSITIVE you found your way into Columbia University (and later Yale) based purely on your intelligence, and not upon the coat-tails of your rich, famous daddy. Growing up with food close at hand, toys and gifts accessible at your leisure, traveling to far away places, and never hearing your parents at each others throats about money problems must bring a certain level of comfort and confidence to a young boy. It must fill your mind and heart with a positive, can-do attitude... knowing that, if you fail, your plummeting self shall fall upon a bed of money and new opportunities courtesy of longtime family connections.
And as you progress into adulthood -- never quite understanding what it's like to lay in bed, in the midst of a bad case of insomnia, staring at a ceiling you're not 100% certain might still be above you a week after rent is due; never gaining the full grasp of how fortunate you are that eating once a day is by choice, rather than by necessity; never experiencing how devastating the word "no" can be when so much is riding on "yes"-- I can see how your mindset can be skewed toward the poor owning a flawed work ethic and a jaded attitude for the "system".
A system that's making it increasingly difficult to find additional (and needed) credit for both individuals and small businesses alike. A system that finds new and interesting ways to reward the selfish and criminal. A system that intentionally slants the playing field to favorably slide abundance to the side of the excessively-abundant. A system that loses billions (i.e., JP Morgan Chase) on bad investments, then shrugs its shoulders like it just dropped its pet rock down a storm drain and nothing more.
Yes, Ben Stein.... you'll SHOW US!!!
How to be an asshole.
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
LOL at politicians. Who needs reality TV when we've got THESE fellas.
I've said it all too often -- Republican or Democrat... it matters very little. The key term is "politician". The Statesmen disappeared in the waning moments of the 19th century. By declaration of Lord Byron, "power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely."
You may be a family man. You may be a God-fearing man. But, if you're a ladies man, and you own a degree of power, you've got it made!
Unless there's a camera nearby.
Aaaaannnd something called "the internet".
I'm wondering if these politicians who continuously finds themselves on the wrong end of an aperture setting -- while both their proverbial pants and third leg lay the wrong ways vertically and horizontally, irrespectfully -- actually KNOW that automobiles no longer run on steam? Do they understand, albeit one would think a "given", that the sun does NOT revolve around the Earth (despite what Kate Mulgrew says). Perhaps we should tap them on the shoulder and whisper, "Hey, that's not a tiny window... that's a television set".
Are you kidding me? This is way too much fun. And, if we employ a little dose of brain matter to the mix, we can increase the fun factor sevenfold.
We can spread a rumor that Bugs Bunny has risen from Toontown ("Roger Rabbit" being a documentary) and has declared FloriDUH to be cut from the union via one massive saw, just like he did in his cartoon. Watch in delight as the FloriDUH lawmakers scream in horror and push legislation the place NSA taps on all Warner Brother cartoon characters.
By way of good ol' Twitter, we can lay waste to the Texans in the House by grass rooting a phony campaign by a fictitious Native American group, declaring the name "Cowboy" to be morally unsettling due to the deaths of so many Hollywood indians over the hundreds of westerns produced in the past century, and to suggest a responsible alternative name: Cattlers.
Mississippiippii (?), the cesspool of former power boss Trent Lott (how they remained so poor despite his influence on Capitol Hill continues to confound me). We can lay a stinkbomb rumor on StumbleUpon that, due to federal budgetary concerns, a bill will be introduced to limit the number of recurring letters in the name of a state to "2", thus forcing Mississippi to become "Misisipp".
Which sounds a lott like "misstep" or "mishap", and that's a whole heaping helping of apropos if you ask me.
It's like a high-concept version of America's Funniest Home Videos, only scarier. Still littered with idiots doing stupid things.
But idiots we elected.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
At times I wonder... if I truly manner at all.
When Descartes exclaimed "I think, therefore I am!", he presented such words not knowing what I know. Not feeling what I feel. Not uncertain of what I am quite uncertain of at this particular moment.
Take heart. This is not "that" kind of post. In fact, it's all about a figurative Post-It Note.
My life is fine enough. I have plenty of friends, and some fantastic business opportunities ahead. But there are times when things just simply don't go one's way. And sometimes, many of these things happen all in a single day. When that occurs, which is more often then I'd prefer to admit, it lends itself to a bit of reflection.
Since middle school, and well into my adult life, I've found myself in a perpetual "no man's land" of social interaction. Many of my friends in school were of the popular variety: class president, hot babe, cheerleader (at my high school, "hot babe" and "cheerleader" didn't always travel hand-in-hand), opponent-crushing jock (baseball only... we positively sucked at football), etc. Between the bells, I'd conversed freely with the populars, hung out at lunch with them, and was, for the most part, generally one of the group.
For the most part.
Yet, as the weekend approached, Saturday party lists were being jotted and scribbled feverishly in the midst of another boring American History class. Best friends would bang heads, wondering who should and should not be invited. The populars would divvy out marching orders, and exclaim with complete certainty. "This is gonna be the best party EVER!"
I'm sure it was... if I'd been invited.
Only on Monday morning did I learn of the incredible party at so-and-so's house. "Wow! Did you see what (so-and-so) did? Dude, he totally digs her".
I'm sure it would've been a sight to see... if I'd been invited.
Knowing somebody doesn't necessitate a solid friendship, let alone a friendship at all. I realized this in the most embarrassing manner possible as high school ended and my collegiate life began. I won't dive into elaborate detail as to what happened my freshman year at Cal State Nowhere (Northridge, or CSUN, for the non-Angelinos), for it still hurts a fair amount just typing the words of this sentence. Let's just say it involved a childhood pal, pledging a fraternity, a false sense of belonging, and the proverbial rug being pulled from beneath my feet at the height of my confidence. Weeks of pledging, monthly dues, mandatory assignments, hampered grades, two long road trips, and a ton of fun. And in the end, as the fraternity set up shop for its ceremonial initiation in the living room, the surviving pledges gathered in the garage, confident of their future brotherhood. I couldn't wait. Already I'd been blabbering to neighbors and co-workers about purchasing a Greek hoodie once initiated, which now seemed an inevitability. As the frat prez circled us, he dropped a bombshell: there are still two cuts to be made! One was a guy named Carlos, who'd worked his tail off as the unofficial supply sergeant of both the pledge class and the fraternity. He, understandably, was devastated.
The other, was me.
As I made my way to to my car, I couldn't help but wonder how much of the 12 week pledge period was a flat out lie. I'd done nothing wrong... but had I done enough "right"? Was it simply about the money? No, I wasn't the coolest freshman on campus, but as I peered back at a house now off-limits to me, I could count no fewer than four remaining pledges who deserved initiation less than I. Yes. It hurts a fair amount. It's also fair to say I lost a fair amount of trust for human beings at that exact moment, and that mentality has followed me ever since.
It's also, I think, the beginnings of my superstitious nature of not discussing anything in my life in great detail to anyone until it's a sure-thing.
To this day, I carry the notion that I'm simply not as integral to the lives of others as it appears. I'm like a Post-It note within an appointment book. The words inscribed upon the note are inconsequential, for the note can be placed, re-placed, or simply mis-placed, without a drop of permanent ink touching any page within one's organized life. I try to make the best effort possible for people I know and care about. In return, it appears, the effort is rarely reciprocated. Appointments, re-scheduled. Lunch dates, cancelled. Business opportunities, disappear. I'll admit, more often than not I defend neither my name nor my honor as fervently as I should. When a person cancels on me based upon weaksauce reasoning, I really SHOULD call them out. When I feel I'm being marginalized, I SHOULD let my feeling be known.
Sometimes, I shouldn't let ANYTHING slide. I just, well.... do.
I can be opinionated at times, but never wholly negative or dark. I'm a realist -- and I comment on what I observe, rarely sugar-coating my words. I take a shower every day. I wear pleasant-enough deodorant (if your consider Axe "pleasant"). There is no gi-normous wart on my nose, nor am I grotesquely hideous. Sometimes events DO unfold in my favor, at which times I'm pleasantly surprised and grateful. And, there ARE people in my life who care as much about me as I do about them. Just, in my eyes, not nearly enough.
As people predictably disappoint. As business opportunities vanish into nothingness. And, as I sit here writing this blog, I have three of my own children's book (wait for the Hollywood catchphrase) in various stages of development, untethered to a flaky client, a teaching gig beginning in September, and fewer blondes in my life than two months ago... but that last note is for a separate blog post.
Yet, as I step back several paces and observe from a distance, many of these disappointments were, in fact, nothing to begin with. The people. The jobs. The opportunities. When viewed from a less subjective position, rear their ugly heads to reveal to surprising truth -- it is not I who is the Post-It note... it is THEY who are the Post-It notes. The perpetual flakes and ego-laden wannabes. The too-good-to-be-true opportunities that were already dead in the water before they left dry dock. The fast, cheap chatter of feather-light promises of which cannot hold the weight of air itself once slight pressure is applied.
I'm a trusting soul, and one who, in my 40's, is still waiting for an extended winning streak. I've learned to be guarded with talk of upcoming success, which makes it seem I'd rather not discuss my life at all. And, I've learned not to place a job opportunity on my whiteboard until it's a solid "go".
Unless it's the illustration job that's been delayed a month and a half.
Or that children's book project the client keeps placing on hold.
Or the cooler than awesome client branding gig that was "promised" as a sure thing.
Perhaps I should lose the whiteboard altogether and instruct people from this point forward to put up, or shut up.