Bates Blog

I saw WALL-E today. I haven’t been to the movies in months. Indiana Jones - never saw it, Iron Man, couldn’t do it, Hulk…no thanks. The first movie that got me out my chair and to the theatre this summer: WALL-E.

The reason being: Pixar doesn’t make bad movies. They just don’t. I never thought a movie about trash-gathering robots would make me tear up, but it did.

I loved it.

A LOT OF SPOILERS AHEAD..BE WARNED.
STOP READING IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THE MOVIE YET.

I also love the chatter and controversy that Pixar’s movies create. Here’s a few links if you’re interested in the discussion.

FAT PEOPLE HATE IT

RELIGIOUS MESSAGES IN IT

CONSERVATIVES HATE IT

WALL-E EASTER EGGS

OVERALL GREAT METAFILTER DISCUSSION REGARDING

Here’s my thoughts, in no particular order.

There is a delicious irony about DISNEY and APPLE owning the company that creates a dark vision of consumerism and technology. Evidence of this is that I immediately went to Wal-Mart after viewing the film (we had to go grocery shopping) and I tore through the store looking for a WALL-E toy for my office (didn’t find one). Talk about not getting the message (or, more correctly, getting the message, but choosing to completely IGNORE IT). Also…the inside of the San Jacinto Wal-Mart looked a LOT like the Lido Deck of the Axiom. I mean…a lot. Stretch pants, cell phones, and pale skin.

The second piece is how one picks up and relates to the subtle moments of consumerism…the Rubik’s Cube, the MAC boot up sound, The I-pod that displays the video in WALL-E’s trailer, how EVE looks an APPLE creation (sleek, white, easy interface, no visible battery). Can you have it both ways, APPIXISNEY? Can you make billions off the the exact consumer process which you’re warning about while still pimping current products and brands?

I’ll give them a pass. At least they embraced it and released it. I mean, even FOX kinda killed (suppressed?) the similar film, ‘IDIOCRACY’.

Also. I want to buy a Buy N Large corporate t-shirt logo. I’m not sure what that makes me. A hack? A mark? Ironic?

The moment in the theatre that one sees all the humans in lounge chairs is an uncomfortable one. Gina and I just kinda looked at each other and gulped. Replace lounge chairs for cars, add cell phones..BAM! We’re already there.

It’s funny that the only entertainment this year that’s managed to touch my emotions and break my shell a little bit has been a kid’s movie about robots.

It was a movie that seemed to be speaking to me directly, through various small nuances I’m not going into. I’m talking, not on the large scale of environmental dangers and corporate/government themes that the film displays, but rather, in smaller moments of dialogue, colors, visual clues, hints. Even the ‘Hello, Dolly’ felt like it was a message being sent to me. I wonder if everyone felt that way. I imagine that’s the point. Pixar puts so much detail and so much effort into every frame, that hundreds and thousands of these small moments affect each of the millions watching; whether it’s the way the light shines off the freeway sign, or EVE’S outstretched hand.

Anyway, I loved the film. And I love reading the discussion.

_______________

Happy 4th of July by the way. Somewhere, Lee Greenwood is making the ‘KA-Ching’ hand gesture and sound all night long.

I can’t help it. I know it’s all over the place…but it’s so funny.

Also…it’s been rumored that the voicemail could be viral marketing…so what if it is? It’s great.

Dmitri’s Voice Message to Olga

HBO to Replay 11 of Carlin’s Specials this weekend.
He seemed to me to get angrier and angrier in later specials, but I guess he was always pretty angry. And very funny. And kicked open taboos and doors for all comedians that came after. RIP Carlin.

Behind Goldman’s XM-Sirius Slam
It seems to me that when something like this happens, and stocks get battered and battered and yet, and all signs point to something bad happening…you gotta go the other way, right? I opened an e-trade account today, specifically to, perhaps, buy a few hundred shares of Sirius this week. Someone tell me I’m making a mistake…’cause it seems like all the negativity is smoke and mirrors.

Is Arrested Development Movie Happening
My favorite show….Please let this be true!!!!

Michael Pollan - ‘Why Bother?” - New York Times
I’m reading ‘Ominvore’s Dilemma’ right now, and I came across Pollan’s opinion column from a few months ago. I just thought it was kinda inspiring for some reason.

Is Google Making Us Stupid?
What the Internet is doing to our brains. This article made me think. I can’t even finish a book anymore. I don’t remember having to figure out directions by myself. Movies and tv shows have exactly 45 seconds to catch my interest. Good points, good article.

And as a follow up (and inspiration to, really) my Worst.Commencement.Speech post, here are two of the best.

Conan O Brien Commencement

David Foster Wallace Commencement

If I am ever asked to speak at a graduation, I have already written my speech. Below is the actual text (notes and stage direction to myself included) that I plan on using.

Wow! It is warm. Who ordered all this heat? (PAUSE FOR LAUGHTER)(TAKE OUT SPEECH, CLEAR THROAT, SMILE)

Faculty, students, and parents of the Alben William Barkley Continuation High School, thank you for inviting me to speak today. It is my esteemed pleasure to be allowed to provide some guidance and life lessons to you, on this, perhaps the most important day of your young lives. (PAUSE FOR APPLAUSE)

I know I’m new to the Barkley school, but lemme tell you, I was talking to (INSERT NAME OF VICE-PRINCIPAL)earlier, and I just have to ask, when is (NAME OF VICE-PRINCIPAL) going to leave you guys alone, huh?
(PAUSE FOR LOUD CHEERS). (POINT TO VICE PRINCIPAL..MAKE WEIRD ‘WHO IS THIS GUY’ FACE)

Seriously though, since this is a continuation high school, a lot of you have made some mistakes, taken some time off to have unplanned pregnancies, or perhaps both at the same time.

I’ve made mistakes too. I’m here to say that mistakes are just gifts wrapped in really-difficult-to-remove wrapping paper. If you break it down, mistakes are My Stakes that hold down My Tent. (IF AUDIENCE DOES NOT GET, HOLD UP PICTURE OF TENT WITH STAKES HOLDING IT DOWN WITH ARROW THAT POINTS TO SAYING ‘MY STAKES’)

See if you guys can relate to this — Ten years ago, I was just like you guys. I drank two forties of malt liquor a night, smoked weed with my friends, watched 8-hour video cassettes of bootlegged ‘Simpsons’ episodes until my sides hurt, lived off Top Ramen and chicken patties, nailed everything with a pulse, all while working a video store simply to put gas in my 1982 Oldsmobile Omega. Am I right? (PAUSE FOR NODS OF AGREEMENTS). I was on the fast track to Loserton, with a One-Way Ticket leaving from Track Failure at the Disappointment Terminal. (IF REACHING AUDIENCE, INCLUDE MORE METAPHORS)

Since then, I’ve grown up. Life guides you gracefully to adulthood with the help of the IRS, Oprah Winfrey, and cell phone bills. You’re not going to believe this, but here’s how far I’m come since then. Just last night, I was drinking a bottle of Trader Joe wine, watching ‘Family Guy’ on dvd, working on a report for my job that I took just to put gas in my 2002 Toyota Rav 4 while eating…wait for it… Thai Food From My Favorite Restaurant. (SLAM HANDS DOWN ON LECTURN, RAISE UP IN VICTORY)

That’s right! some day, you’ll be able to afford Thai Food. And guess what, some guy BROUGHT IT to my house.

Have I blown your minds yet?

(PAUSE FOR NODS OF AGREEMENT)

So you’re saying, hey Craig, how can I get there?

Let me drop some knowledge on you. I keep a poem in my pocket to inspire me every day. Whenever I’m feeling blue, or down, or feeling like I’m not operating at full capacity, I remember the words of a great man from the early nineties. This prophet has helped me more than you can ever imagine (START TO CHOKE UP. IF NO TEARS COME, TAKE MOMENT AND LOOK UP AT SUN TO GET EYE WATERING)

That man’s name is Humpty Hump, and the song is, ‘The Humpty Dance’ — Let me read an excerpt —

I’m sick wit dis, straight gangsta mack
but sometimes I get ridiculous
I’ll eat up all your crackers and your licorice
hey yo fat girl, c’mere–are ya ticklish?
Yeah, I called ya fat.
Look at me, I’m skinny
It never stopped me from gettin’ busy
I’m a freak
I like the girls with the boom
I once got busy in a Burger King bathroom
I’m crazy.
Allow me to amaze thee.
They say I’m ugly but it just don’t faze me.

(TAKE LONG PAUSE. LET IT SINK IN. MOUTH THE WORDS ‘BURGER KING BATHROOM’ SLOWLY AND INAUDIBLY TO BRING HOME THE MESSAGE)

Think of the message in that. You can be fat or skinny. Let nothing stop you from keeping busy! Amaze the world! Get ridiculous. Come here and let me tickle you. Interesting fact about Mr. Hump. He was so shy, he wore a fake nose while he was performing.

(SLAP DOWN HANDS ON LECTURN. RAISE UP HANDS IN VICTORY)

Just a couple more notes before I leave you today. One, don’t bother being honest, it doesn’t work. Two, integrity and humility are overrated. Three, You know that squeaky wheel, more grease saying…it’s dead-on. Don’t ever be left holding the bag. Stab once, twist clockwise to spread the wound. Head butt only when you’re stepping on the opponent’s foot. Never trust a grocery bagger. Exercise is for Lance Armstrong and Tony Little. Pimples are the ugliness inside coming out. Money tastes better when mixed with the tears of the person you took it from. Fast food looks nothing like the commercial. Sex is only good when you’re paying for it (DO NOT SAY THIS OUT LOUD)

(IF YOU HAPPEN TO SAY THIS ONE OUT LOUD…RECOVER QUICKLY BY SAYING THE FOLLOWING)…

Umm…(INSERT VICE PRINCIPAL’S NAME) told me that one.

(MOUTH ‘BURGER KING BATHROOM’)

Thank you class of 2008! Allow me to Amaze thee!!!

(RAISE HANDS OUT. BASK IN CHEER AND APPLAUSE)

I’ve been taking the Metrorail and Metro Bus System from Riverside, CA to Union Station, Los Angeles, for over a month now. What this means is that now I’m more than qualified to write a piece on how to successfully navigate and ride said transportation systems. Some people will say that in order to be an ‘expert’ or ‘master authority’, one must have more than 30 days practical experience in the subject discussed. Not true. Just because I was begrudgingly forced to play the recorder in 3rd grade for two weeks in elementary school, doesn’t mean I’m not an expert in classical music and/or theory.

Glad we cleared that up.

Now, if you’re reading this, you want to learn more about commuting in Los Angeles. You’re doing your due diligence and researching the options. You’re tired of gas prices. Your car has just been repossessed. You want to ‘go green’. You’re Mayor Villaraigosa and you have an MTA meeting in half an hour, and you have no idea what MTA means. You’re a hobo, sitting in a library, randomly googling things you’ve seen on signs or on little pieces of paper in your pockets. Whatever the reason…I’m here to help.

I was just like you. Scared, alone, frightened of the Metro system. I asked the same questions to myself: Will I miss my trains? Does the Metro stop near my work? Will I get shanked by a member of the Piru Bloods on the 720 Bus down Wilshire Boulevard? You know…the typical stuff.

I now love taking the train/bus/subways of Los Angeles. I look forward to it.

Allow me to share some tips with you to help make your commute successful.

1) Do The Groundwork

Don’t just get to the station/terminal on the day of. Plan your route. Go to http://www.metro.net and plan it out. Trains, lines, destinations, prices. Print out the schedules, have exact change, know at least some of what to expect. The most important thing you can do, is carry change and carry a printout of schedules. There’s also great commuting blogs and posts about the experience.

2) The First Day, Get There Early

At five a.m. on Monday, as much as your fellow man wants you to succeed in your journey of commuting, believe me, they don’t want to a) be bothered, b) answer questions, c) be held up or d) be there at all. The tired huddled masses trudging to work at the train station does not want to be regaled with your stories of time management, ecological prowess, or the faults of the automated ticketing terminal that you can’t grasp while holding up a line of fifteen people. Also, I’ve found the actual number of MTA employees willing to help and/or there for assistance to be in the minority.

For the Metrorail, get used to the ticket machine. It’s a little tricky. It’s intuitive, but it’s not perfect. Following what I thought was the correct sequence, I went to grab my round trip ticket from Riverside to LA, only to find out that I punched a one-way ticket from Santa Ana to Oceanside for later on that week. At 5 a.m., I don’t know my own social security number, never mind following the on-screen instructions of a foreign ticket kiosk.

My first day, I wasn’t sure which line I was supposed to get in to board my ‘commuter express’ bus. When the bus arrived, I accidentally cut the line, angering all thirty people who were waiting in that line for the last ten minutes. There was no confrontation, only grunts and stares. I thought, ‘Hey, screw these people. I’ll never see them again, anyway.’ Turns out, I see these same people EVERY DAY, as they all take the same 7:18 bus from the station. Nothing like a first impression.

3) Don’t be a Douche bag

It’s hard for people to think outside themselves. Sure, there are days I don’t want to bathe in the morning. Sure, I like to turn up my radio as loud as it can go and blast Rage Against the Machine on the 10 Freeway. Hell, I enjoy farting in my car and still smelling that same fart when I return back to my vehicle nine hours later. All these things are NOT cool on public transportation.

First off, don’t stink. Second, I don’t want to hear your ipod blasting Nickelback. I’m inches away from you, I can hear that each song sounds exactly the same. Thirdly, Indian Food for breakfast…really? Leave it at home. Fourthly, don’t put your bag on the seat next to you..it’s the commuting equivalent of using 16 point font to turn a five page term paper into a ten page term paper (you’re not fooling anybody). We all know what you’re doing. Everyone wants some space…don’t make it any harder on anyone else. Fifthly, keep your cell phone use to a minimum. Some people want to sleep, some people want to close their eyes, and some people like to read quietly or prepare for the day. ALL people do not want to hear you talk to your ‘Brosuf using your outdoor voice on the train/bus.

Also, have your ticket handy. Once every three days, a Sheriff pops on-board to scream ‘TIIICCKKKETTS’. You must show your tickets to this person, or get cited.

4) You Will Encounter Undesirables

I know, you’re liberal. You’re a great guy. Everyone gets a second chance, don’t judge, they have the same rights as you and I. That could be you someday, buddy. Well, all the grandstanding and politics change when you have to spend 50 minutes smelling armpits and staring at scabies and urine-soaked army jackets while hitting potholes and exchanging electrons whilst avoiding eye contact and listening to people talk to themselves. Commuter Express busses…not so much. Metrorails…not so much. But the Red, Blue, Orange and Green metro buses and rails….it’s a crapshoot. You could be sitting next to a Mormon missionary, or Corey Haim. You just don’t know.

I personally hate the way the Metrorail trains are laid out. Instead of all the seats facing forward, it pretends that you’re on the Orient Express for a magical journey through the countryside and seats most everyone in quadrants of four, meaning two people face two other people. As much as I enjoy touching knees and smelling the breath of a sleeping middle-aged Asian dude who awakes only to depart at Montebello, I prefer facing forward, not having to avoid direct eye contact with three other people. I bring a book and and I-Pod…always. Even if the I-Pod’s turned off, it still means I don’t hear you.

5) The Trains and Buses Leave on Time…

Thanks to the absurdity of Los Angeles traffic, nothing starts on time anymore. Parties, movies, meetings, lunches, TV shows, plays, concerts, picnics. For all intents and purposes, time has no meaning in everyday life…Except when it comes to buses and trains. If the time is 5:19, and the train is scheduled to leave at 5:18…it is gone. If the bus is two minutes early, and you isn’t there…it’s gone. You’re not special…you’re not the only one who has to get home. Plan accordingly, and have a back up plan.

6) …But Don’t Always Get There On Time

I haven’t missed my last train yet…but it’s been close. Traffic can mess up your destination. I’ve routinely been ten minutes late to my arriving point. Plan accordingly, and have a back up plan

7) The Benefits are There

When I drive 2.5 hours to work, I feel fried. I’m tired, grouchy, and still reeling from the a-hole in the Ford F350 that cut me off (And really, is there a sticker of something that Calvin is NOT peeing on. Is nothing sacred? I want to have a sticker of the word “YOU”, and then have Calvin peeing on it, just to offend everybody. Oh, and you think Bill Watterson’s happy to see his art get reduced to a urinating, white trash insult sticker).

When I take mass transit though, although it takes an hour more each way, I do feel better. I can close my eyes, I can read, I can look out the window and see 75 different billboards for “The Love Guru”.

Also, I’m being green. Green, as in, my wallet has more green in it. In all seriousness, the other green, I do feel better about myself. Isn’t that the point about ‘Going Green’. It’s so you can feel and seem like a better person than those who are not being green.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to wrap this up. The homeless guy sitting in the seat next to me keeps pointing out all my dangling modifiers and incorrect parenthetical usage while reading this blog over my shoulder. I guess you can’t judge.

Hey! You! Time to start blogging again, ok daddy!
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

The Hi-Def war is becoming like a Kimbo Slice fight — Ouch! / Double Ouch! props to kottke.com

p.s. If you don’t know who Kimbo Slice is — DO NOT go to youtube and type in Kimbo Slice, and DO NOT click on the link which he backyard fights a guy and makes his right eye look like ground beef. DO NOT. You’ve been warned. Watching Kimbo Slice clips on youtube is the equivalent of watching snuff films. It makes you uncomfortable, and it’s not right.

When’s my favorite show coming back? Hourly Strike Update!!! props to metafilter

Tuesday the most productive day of the week!

Milkshake Marketing

Bill Gates doesn’t want to take your Facebook movie quiz either — props to lifehacker

I have professed my love for him before….but now…he’s ranting on a daily basis — PENN SAYS (full disclosure….I might work for the company that writes his checks)

And finally…please..no..say it ain’t so Will. This is like hearing that your favorite teacher just had to register as a sex offender.

When Gina and I bought our house, there was a lot to consider. What was the neighborhood like? How are the schools? Crime rate? Is the location a growing, vibrant community? How many Wal-Marts? Has the city reached its tipping point of having a ‘Chili’s’ restaurant? Does it have the world’s largest thermometer? You know, the obvious stuff.

It’s truly one of the most stressful and agonizing decisions one can make. At the end of day, one is making a choice to possibly plant his or her flag for the next 30 years. We chose San Jacinto, California. Growing…easy access to the 10, 60, and 215 freeways. Centrally located to Palm Springs, San Diego, LA, Riverside, San Bernardino…etc. It was close to both of our families, perhaps THE most important factor, considering the last year. Oh…did I mention it was super cheap too. I guess that’s a factor. The views are beautiful too. You are surrounded by mountains. It’s very scenic.

We visited the city a lot when making our decision. We drove around, we did Megan’s Law website checks. We did all the due diligence we could. We jumped together and we made a decision to buy and live in the San Jacinto valley.

When all was said and done though, we forgot one small detail. Gina and I neglected to ask one small question. We never thought about it. Looking back, we should have asked when we had the chance. We should have asked the loan officer, the real estate agent, a fellow San Jacintoian. Anyone. It would have took five seconds. All we had to do was tap someone on the shoulder…ANYONE, and ask the following: DOES YOUR CITY SMELL LIKE COW SHIT?

The answer, as we found out, is an unequivocal YES.

I remember the moment fondly. It was our second week living in the house. I had just woken up. I had on my terrycloth bathrobe, clutching my morning coffee. I went outside to get my paper. I was now a card-carrying member of the American Dream Club. I might as well have been smoking a pipe and whistling Andy Williams tunes as I tussled the hair of my two and half children and opened my white picket fence while giving a point and wink to the Jenkins family across the street as I bent down to pick up my daily copy of The Anytown Times.

This particular morning, however, I paused. I sniffed. I looked around. I said, out loud — “Smells like shit.”

Little did I know then, that the smell of bovine ass was to become a ever-present occurrence in my life. That smell, as I we found out…is NORMAL. It was one of those things that you look back at all the clues and slap yourself for not figuring it out. Yeah..like a Hardy Boys book. See now, when I drive to the freeway, I NOTICE the dairies and farms. I see the dozens and dozens of cows sitting when it’s about to rain, standing around, and begging to be cow-tipped.

Now I STARE at the, oh…say…ten foot pile of steaming manure that occupies most dairies that sit no more than three miles from my house. Now I can VISUALIZE the smell, much like the cartoon smell that comes from an animated cooling apple pie that waves that float through the air and then splits and goes into both nostrils.

Looking back, we signed a lot of documents on the day we signed our purchase agreement with the real estate lady. I signed a paper that said I DIDN’T live in a flood plain. I put my John Hancock on a page that said we DIDN’T live on an fault line. I signed all disclosures about city taxes, zoning, and so on. What I never saw, however, was a document that states that the entire city DOES smell like cow shit over 60 percent of the time. Nothing. There was no mention of it in my welcome to the neighborhood packet, local newspaper. NOTHING. When we had our walk-through, someone from Lennar Homes showed us how to turn off the gas, open the garage door, change the A/C filter. Never, not once, in the three hours he walked us through, did he mention the olfactory conditions of the area in which we chose to live. I mean, maybe he did. Maybe Gina and I were just not paying attention:

WALK-THROUGH BUILDER GUY : “So, this is your A/C Filter…you’ll want go up there and change it ever four months or so for optimal economic benefits. You just gotta take a quarter and unscrew these screws. You see these screws? Yeah…just those two. Also, you”ll notice arrows on the filter itself, so make sure you face the direction of the arrows when putting the filter in position. You guys look like a young couple…how long have you been married? Four years…wow…that’s really great. Oh… by the way…you see all those black and white four-legged mammals behind the barbed wire that you’re surround by? Those are cows…and they shit so much that 18 percent of the Greenhouse Effect is caused by their farts. When the wind comes in from the North, South, or East, it’ll carry the permeating united smell of those said farts and excretions so that you can never have an outside party or enjoy the smell of your flowers. Oh, did I mention it gets up to 113 degrees here during the summer. Yeah…dry heat…exactly. Ok…take care.

ME: So, do I need a screwdriver to take off the air filter, or….

WALK-THROUGH BUILDER GUY: “No..a. quarter should do it…righty tighty, lefty loosey…you’ll be good to go.

ME: Thanks for all the info.

I have come up with my own solution to the Smells Like Shit problem of my hometown. I take it out on the cows. I actually, verbally yell at them, out loud, as I drive past them. See, after I’m pulling down Gilman Springs at night, and you have that first whiff of cattle waste, I launch into a verbal tirade directly at a particular cow that, if recorded, but probably put me in a 5150 hold.

ME (In my car, smelling the cows): WELCOME HOME! YEAH…YOU LIKE THAT COW? DO YOU? YOU ENJOYING YOURSELF? I WISH I COULD FART ALL DAY WITH NO REPERCUSSIONS!! I’M GONNA EAT YOU SO HARD COW. I’M GONNA FLANK STEAK YOU AND EAT YOUR MOM IN A STEW! HEY FARMER…LET ME HOLD THE NAIL GUN…PLLLLEEAAASEE…I’M GONNA TIP YOU ALL NIGHT, YOU STUPID COW. YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A GLASS OF MILK AND WESTERN BACON CHEESBURGER…I HATE YOU COW. BITCH-ASS COW…I’LL CAGE FIGHT ALL OF YOU!

COW: {farts}

So, if we can learn anything from this, I believe that there should now be four rules when looking to invest in Real Estate.

LOCATION
LOCATION
MAKING SURE YOUR CITY DOESN’T SMELL LIKE COW FART
LOCATION

You’re welcome.

So i’m watching CNN with my lovely wife here on this momentous Super Tuesday. It’s a time of change, of experience. It’s our civic duty, as a nation and as individuals to take part and embrace this democratic process that is a model for all nations, creeds and countries around this great globe.

I have to be honest — I have no idea what’s going on.

There. I said it. It’s out there. Join me people, and admit you’re as clueless as I am. Don’t be afraid. Just to show I’m not bluffing, I’ll share another secret with you. Almost every night, I wake up in the middle of the night because I’m sleeping on my arm. It’s numb and it doesn’t have enough blood flow. The brain wakes the body up to rectify the situation. My arm is asleep. Every single night…The same thought runs through my sleepy, dazed brain — “Oh Shit. I think i’m paralyzed and my lifeless arm will never get feeling again.” I’m pretty sure that when I’m 80 years old, I’m going to wake up at 2 in the morning and go…”Uh Oh…It’s dead…this time…it’s really dead. Goodbye right arm.” See..this honesty stuff is easy..everyone should try it.

I’m college educated, got over 1000 on my SAT’s, consider myself reasonably intelligent (I took both AP US History and AP Goverment), and I have no idea what is happening in these primary elections. I mean…I know what’s happening. I know this all leads to the Democratic and Republican conventions where Ron Silver and Leonardo DiCaprio give speeches, and porkpie hats rule, errant piercing injuries by defective buttons go up over 800%, and musical acts such as k.d. Lang and Larry and the ‘Git R’ Dones’ pump up the respective delegates between speeches.

Also, and if memory serves correctly, protestors get their asses handed to them by the local police outside the convention hall.

But, I can’t be the only one confused, can I? I mean, there’s a great page on http://www.cnnpolitics.com which explain the process, but I’m still confused. Who elects delegates? Are delegates done by population, district, county? Why is there a distinction between ‘winner take all’ states and ‘by percentage’ states? Why do Democrats and Republicans do it differently. Why would you name your child ‘Wolf’?

Ostensibly, people vote. Most votes = most delegates. That’s as far as I’m comprehending right now. I even asked The Smartest Guy I Know today and he kinda broke it down, told me that the delegates don’t even have to vote the way the public has voted. That’s awesome.

There’s really one two things you need to know to vote. One has to do with color. Red is Republican, Blue is Democrat. That’s it. Second — you need a visual representation to help you vote. In 2004, it was between the Red Guy who cleared brush on his ranch and rode in a pickup, and the Blue Guy who windsurfed and threw a football on an airport tarmac. That’s the only thing I remember from 2004. Those images.

Other random notes from Super Tuesday:

1) As soon as I got home, Gina summed up the day. She loved Obama’s speech from Chicago. She couldn’t even sit through Hillary’s. “Why?,” I asked her. “Because within the first three minutes, she did the ‘thumb’ thing.” The thumb thing is where the candidate points…but instead of pointing (it’s aggressive), you curl the thumb, make a fist, and gesture towards the crowd. (Think Darryl Hammond doing Bill Clinton on SNL). It’s as rehearsed as it is cheesy. It’s the equivalent of rolling up the sleeves during a groundbreaking ceremony or in a blue-collar machine factory photo op.
2) Both my brother and my mother-in-law did the same thing. Went to the polls to vote for Obama. One small problem…they’re registered Republicans. They couldn’t vote for Obama. They both voted for McCain.
3) My wife went to the polls, and since we recently moved, she’s not on the roster. They didn’t even offer her a provisional ballot. She had to ask for it. And then, got witnessed by the volunteer, an Indian cowboy who name-dropped Job, blessings, love, and God, for six minutes while she filled out the paperwork. Apparently, he also reeked of cigarettes and claimed he was getting married to a woman that is currently in Hawaii filming the tv show Lost (and a movie). San Jacinto, CA…love it, live it, learn it.
4) I love the Breaking News music from CNN whenever a projection comes up. It’s half Guitar Hero lick, half ceremonial. I say go all the way…just use a full-on Hair Metal lick for fifteen seconds. That’d be awesome.
5) I have to give full disclosure…I can’t vote. My brother is a citizen (thanks to Mary Bono…hence his Republican affiliation). Me…I haven’t walked that plank yet. I will though. That probably makes me a blowhard hypocrite right now. Fine.

At least I’m not doing the thumb thing.

Before we begin, this is very funny. Not much content yet, but the possibiliites are endless

FAIL BLOG

I’m sitting here in Las Vegas in a Four Seasons room untill Thursday morning. I’m working.

And remember people, being in Vegas for work is the same as being at Disneyland while it’s raining. Most of the town is closed to you. Anyone that has had to put on a suit at 6:30 a.m. and wait outside the Venetian for a taxi to head over to the convention center knows EXACTLY what I’m talking about. There is no fun. There are no booze-fueled rages outside Cheetahs. Nope. There is room service, perhaps a company-expensed dinner, and work. Lots of it. You can’t get too crazy in front of your peers, you can’t really let loose, and you must not be seen with a cigarette dangling out of the side of your mouth, nor swigging from a 42 oz, 16-inch tall plastic salmon-colored Circus Circus Margarita. It’s horrible.

I always wondered why people paid so much for hotel rooms. Why would you subject yourself to a $400 a night room, when there’s a perfectly good $45 a night room a mere twenty minutes away downtown at the Four Queens, which features a walk-up call (but no alarm clock), and a toilet, and $2 craps downstairs that comes with a free hot dog coupon.

Now I know why.

The Four Seasons is spectacular. You get the front door opened to you when you arrive, a personal escort up to your room, a tour, a bottle of water, a flat screen 42′ tv, a turn-down service complete with slippers, free NY Times and Wall St. Journal in the morning, FREE shoe shining each day, an I-Pod adapter in your room, and top-notch service. I used to make fun of people that would spend money like that when there’s a perfectly decent cheap room down the street. I used to hate people that would frequent these hotels. I used to think it was wasteful and unnecessary.

But the older I get, and the more squeezed I feel by life and the everyday minutia, the more I appreciate quality.

This is a true story.
1) I locked myself out of my room. I called security at the Four Seasons and they came up, apologized, opened the door, and brought me two new keycards within five minutes.
2) I needed black electrical tape. I called the concierge. I had black electrical tape brought to my room AT NO CHARGE within four minutes
3) I needed the non-hotel system Remote Controls to the flat screen television in my room to run laptop presentations. I called the front desk…engineering was up knocking on my door with two remote controls within seven minutes.

Because I feel unworthy and somehow still cling to my roots, I leave the Four Seasons earlier tonight to get some dinner at a strip mall McDonalds across the street from the hotel. At the McDonalds, the following occurs:
.5) They make me wait for two minutes while NO ONE is in line without a greeting or explanation.
1) They misunderstand my order of Two Cheesburger Meal and turn it into Double Cheesburger Meal.
2) They forget my drink
3) They don’t ask me what sauces I need with my McNuggets
4) They forget napkins
5) They forget my ketchup.
6) They give me cold fries.

That’s why I would now pay $400 to stay at the Four Seasons. I am so used to not getting service, to having to repeat myself over and over to a clerk, CSR, mechanic, teller, plumer, etc..etc..I am so used to being disappointed, that I would now pay to NOT worry about being disappointed…if that makes any sense.

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I might also be turning OCD. I’ve never been one to be a germaphobe or anything, but I’m starting to turn a litle bit. I walk around my hotel room, and I’m not comfortable. I smell the phone receiver, think of where it’s been. I immediately rip off the comforter, knowing that they wash it less frequently than the sheet. I get a bit nauseous thinking about what fingers have touched the remote, or alarm clock, or who has sat on the chair. Keep in mind, this NEVER used to bother me. I used to take a half-eaten churro out of a 7-11 dumpster and wolf it down, thinking I was helping the world. Now, I don’t really like walking around the hotel room with my shoes off. I don’t even want to use the coffee pot, ’cause I heard recently that all meth addicts use hotel room coffee pots to mix their shit. I make my wife put on a Haz-Mat suit when she comes to bed.

(I’m kidding. It’s a Haz-Mat suite COSTUME that you buy at HALLOWEEN SUPER STORES…it’s not even rated to block any airborne viruses…I’m not a monster!)

I blame it all on Oprah and Local News Anchors.

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Is it me, or have the producers of American Idol blurred all lines between hilarity and seriously ill contestants? I mean….this year’s audition process has featured more actually retarded people than ever before. What’s Next? A CBS reality show featuring small, exploited children. Oh wait, Kid Nation…never mind.

Also, part of me wonders when television got so f’n mean. Rock of Love, Idol, Best Week Ever…we all delight in everyone’s worst. When did this start? The old man in me says that tv has never been this mad…the step-back-a-sec progressive guy says…. Gong Show was mean…that was the 70’s. The Dean Martin Roasts always featured brutal, entertaining skewers in each target celebrity. With that said though..TMZ and TMZ the television show…there’s a special place in hell for Harvey Levin…he’ll get his own circle of hell. His plastic surgery and hairplugs though…they’ll go to purgatory!
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Do you think Enya listens to herself when she wants to relax?

What do you think Rick Astley’s doing right now?

Should I go downstairs, get a credit card advance, and Max Bet Wheel of Fortune untill my 401K disappears?

I’m not saying that Gina and I are trying to have a baby…I’m just saying that I’ve stopped pulling out.

…What…what did I say?

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So, the SOTU (State of the Union was last night. Now…I would love one day…in the near future, in some faraway land….that I could SUCK at my job…for seven straight years…and STILL, with everything I’ve done, with every mistake, foible, mess-up, disaster, and calamity…STILL…be able to pull off over 71 applause breaks in one hour…IN FRONT OF MY PEERS, and TENS OF MILLIONS OF PEOPLE.

Bravo!!! You big, stupid, arrogant, childish, bully, blowhard, oaf. BRAVO. I feel sorry for Bush…I mean..at the end of day..he might ONLY make $30 million dollars a year on the lecture circuit, spinning yarns and justifiying the last seven years.

With everything we know, and everything we think we are, as a race, as a species…we still let each other machete each other to death in faraway lands, and do nothing about it. We still kill each other over religion and judge harshly and pretend our team is better than everyone else. We still say nothing when Sean Hannity has Slyvester Stallone on his weekend news program and kisses his ass while saying that more movies like his need to be made, because they have a message and a point. Meanwhile, the picture he’s talking about features over 300 kills and mutilations.

Remember that next time he rails on immorality on the screen or in Hollywood. Seriously.

McCain vs. Obama scares me. I like McCain. Do I want a person captured, tortured, and imprisoned for years by the Vietnamese in charge of the most important decade in US-Sino relations….not sure.

Is Obama just like everyone else? Not sure. I mean, you have to sell out just to get to the point he’s at, right? There is, however, about 24 percent of me that’s not jaded, and energized what that man might do for us…let’s make that 24 into 100 percent.