Vorpal Sphere

Lux reviews "The Importance of Being Earnest"

2008-11-23T11:30:00.000-08:00

I had always heard of Oscar Wilde throughout my life in vague references and obscure allusions; yet, I had never read any of his plays. In fact, I knew he was a famous English writer, but did not know he was a playwright. I didn't know if he was famous for being queer or a satanist.

Pictured here, Wilde was turned to stone by Medusa after Wilde attempted to insert one of Medusa's head-snake into his rectum. When the opportunity came along to see the movie Wilde (1997) staring Stephen Fry in the title role, I decided to see what all the hubbub was about. I needed a shot of strong vodka after seeing Jude Law bang another dude in his asshole. I enjoyed the movie and feel Wilde got a raw deal by being sent to prison by hypocrites in power.

I have found within myself the ability to enjoy and relish in humorous plays. During my reading of The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde, I found my mind harkening back to those simpler days of yore when network sitcoms were the bread and butter of American entertainment, and cable or satellite were unknown. I am just old enough to remember a network sitcom called Three’s Company (1977) starring John Ritter (Jack), Joyce DeWitt (Janet), Suzanne Summers (Chrissy), and Norman Fell (Mr Roper). The Importance of Being Earnest unearths the memory of Three’s Company and its farcical situations and the unintentional trouble it brings.

When impersonating someone or something else, it is at this moment when characters are at their wittiest and consequently most vulnerable. The most direct example I noticed is the need for incognito. Ernest explains it as Bunburyisting and Company explains this as the need for Jack to pretend he is homosexual so the landlord, Mr Roper, won’t throw Jack out because he lives with two females. There are, of course, many more examples why Wilde is easily understood in modern times. Wilde seems to understand the subtext of life and all its subtle nuances and eccentricities.

Whilst reading The Importance of Being Earnest, I found myself laughing out loud on many occasions. To have the word “wit” defined for me is an abstract concept unless I see or hear wit in action. Wilde’s wit shines through due to his mastery at painting a farcical picture of situational happenstance and highbrow ignobleness. Some favorite quotes that made me laugh audibly are: “More than half of modern culture depends on what one shouldn’t read.” “The amount of women in London who flirt with their own husbands is perfectly scandalous.” “I do not approve of anything that tampers with natural ignorance.” “It is awfully hard work doing nothing.” “No gentleman ever has any money.” “I never saw anybody take so long to dress, with such little result.” And my absolute favorite, “I am not in favor of long engagements. They give people the opportunity of finding out each other’s character before marriage, which I think is never advisable.”

I find I much rather like Wilde’s take on wit and will read more of his plays. I hope they hold my interest as much as The Importance of Being Earnest did as my reading list is growing by the day. Also, I shall keep my eyes open in case this play is ever running in Portland. Wilde is as relevant today as ever - umm, sans the gay stuff. Now I'm not a sentimental cat, but when I am punishing my litter box, I find reading Wilde passes the time.

Swamp Donkey

2008-08-08T09:44:00.001-07:00

Fatherhood

2008-07-30T22:39:00.000-07:00

Loose Review: Battlestar Galactica

2008-07-28T14:43:00.000-07:00

Ever since Milton Berle jumped from radio to the then fledgling National Broadcast Company (NBC) in 1948, the portrayal of women on television has been a leading subject for many stakeholders. Uncle Miltie had no way of knowing his era’s stereotypical depiction of women on television would spark many decades of debate, evolution, and change. Milton was known as “Mr. Television” and had upwards of 2 million viewers per night. In a 2000 interview on the Howard Stern show, uncle Miltie said, “Who would have thought my dressing in drag all those years ago would spark the beginning of feminism?” Seeing Uncle Miltie in drag makes me tingle in new ways I don't understand. Those often forgotten days of yore live on.

Fast forward 56 years and now we have Battlestar Galactica (2004 TV series) airing on the sci-fi channel. A 1997 study asserts that there are 2.4 times as many male characters in television as females. Such studies were often conducted by bored and ugly housewives (scientifically known as "Swamp-Donkeys") with nothing better to do than piss, moan, and breath up all the oxygen of the beautiful people. Battlestar Galactica blows this ratio out of the water with 1.25 times as many female characters as males. While this particular TV show seems to be the exception to the rule, there is much wisdom to be gained by further analysis and a system of "bonerness" ratings.

Three of the main characters are female, two of which were born that way. The president of the Twelve Colonies, Laura Roslin (bornerness rating: a gift "C"), has led her people with great strength and conviction through unspeakable horrors and hardships - all while battling breast cancer and a fleet wide vibrator shortage. Number Six (bornerness rating: "A minus") is also a strong female and enjoys whoring it up, but for different reasons. She is one half of the main protagonist duo who seeks to undermine the unity president Roslin has worked so hard to maintain. Did I mention she is immortal and has a third eye right above her vagina? At least she did until recently. Kara "Starbuck" Thrace (bornerness rating: "B") has an iron will and stubbornness unparalleled or unmatched by any other character in this TV show. I can't say I know for a fact she does not have three separate genitals - all different sexes. There's that tingle again...

These females are in stark contrast the original Battlestar Galactica (1978 TV series) in many ways. For example, 100% of the main characters were male (bornerness rating: "F"). What few females (bornerness rating: "D" due to questionable 70's hygiene) there were where often relegated to lesser background roles and in some cases, scantily clad eye-candy for the much coveted viewers – males 18 to 30. The dynamic of Powerless/Passive versus Aggressive/Macho is exploited in this TV to almost comical effect. And don't get me started about "70's bush."

Field Report: Frisco Government Tards

2008-07-27T12:51:00.000-07:00

I was born and raised in Southern California. I joined the Marine Corps when I was 17 years old and after my enlistment was over, I did not settle in California. Instead I settled in the Portland metro area of Oregon. Speaking only for myself, I can say as a California refugee I am utterly ashamed and embarrassed of the city of San Francisco.

San Francisco always seems to be mired in controversy or some other wackiness. The latest highly publicized misstep in San Francisco revolves around their sanctuary city status. The San Francisco government, courts as well as a California Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals, on the surface, appears to go out of its way to generate controversy.

My personal opinion is government should stay the heck out of my life. I don’t need to be regulated because I, as a self-sustaining sovereign individual, have the ability to think on my own and don’t think elected officials or the courts need to tell me what’s best for me, my family, or anything else for that matter.

Forced segregation occurs when my child is not able to attend the school across the street from my house. The bureaucratic idiot buffoonery behind the reasons only shine a light on the ill thought attempt at social engineering. At least be subtle about it!

As you can tell I have very strong feelings about this subject. You should also know I don’t have any kids, but am a rational thinking adult who has the ability to determine where, how and why my offspring should receive their education based on common sense. This is just another stone on the scales tipping in favor of home schooling - but the teachers unions staunchly oppose any education outside of their control. Home schooling also shrinks the student dating pool for teachers.

No persuasive argument has been presented to explain why my child can go to school across the street from my house, but rather, have to travel several miles or more to school that is not convenient. My property taxes go to pay for the school within my district. Why then, am I forced to pay for a service that I am not receiving because my child’s going to school outside of our school property tax zone?

It is more noise-hole lunacy (see Noise-hole posting) and I am not for it. I am, however, for busty wet teeshirt contests. Mmmmmm, tits.

Quantum Lux for President!

2008-07-26T07:06:00.000-07:00

Guess who's throwing their hat into the race for the White House? That's right ignorant masses, your own Quantum Lux! Please inform your slack-jawed family and mouth-breather friends. There may be some cake in it for you. Vote Lux!

The Good Stuff!

2008-06-18T09:20:00.000-07:00

Being a cat of good taste, I am always on the lookout for opportunities to spend my consumer dollar. I find my proclivities are fed by the artful photos of "Live Nude Cats" and related publications.

It is a rare day when I endorse anything, so take my word on this one folks. By the way, check out the pygmy Siamese on page 32! So exotic and supple.

Vorpal Sphere PSA: Boys Beware

2008-06-12T06:42:00.000-07:00

Wisdom from the 1950's is a forgotten heritage we all share. Those were innocent times with only the threat of nuclear war looming. But with nuclear mutations came the real possibility for anal carnage of the naive by the "sick". Degeneracy and abnormality started to flourish (like a pack of sickly vegans spreading their lies) in a time when few were equipped to recognize the danger. Memorize these watchwords: "One never knows when a homosexual is about"

Obama Wins Nomination

2008-06-03T21:31:00.000-07:00

U.S. Senator Barack Obama clinched the democratic nomination for the presidency of the United States today. Obama suffered a decline with voters for his controversial stance on opening talks with the notorious transvestite Amish zombie leader, Yabbi-ta (see Field Report: Signs of the Apocalypse? post). Zombies from every strata of undeadness are supporting Obama for president.

The Stay Dead Party nominee, Gov. Chuck Goodrich, staunchly rejects zombie support of any kind in any political contest and had this to say, “People, they are zombies! They eat the brains of good folks like you and me! We must not negotiate with zombies.”

Gov. Goodrich unveiled his Zombie Defense System (ZDS) policy and infrastructure. Said Goodrich, “The ZDS will provide a safety net for families and make America’s cities a hub of urban growth and help strengthen our economy. By electing me, the people elect for the continued existence of children and puppies.”

When asked where the funding will come from to build the ZDS, Gov. Goodrich said, “The entire Zombie Defense System will be funded by the gold teeth repurposed from retired zombies.”

Danger the Clown

2008-05-29T20:17:00.000-07:00

This is Danger the Clown. Like all of us, he enjoys scaring the shit out of small children. No doubt little Timmy here will require years of unsuccessful therapy. Future Timmy will hear voices and hide several dead hookers in strategic locations about his property. Careful little Timmy, that lollipop is laced with horse laxative and Viagra.

Danger the Clown was recently hired by Vorpal Sphere to spread humor and good tidings to all by any means necessary. HR lists Danger’s job title as “Humor Enforcement Agent” and for good reason, how much humor enforcement do you think little Timmy can take before he starts drowning his pets? Only Danger knows for sure.

Humor is a universal human condition (much like our oxygen habit) that crosses all cultural boundaries and strata of life. One only needs contextual and mutual understanding of the set-up for the punch line to make sense. I know that is simplistic and very basic, but it holds true. Whether the joke is funny or not is a different matter; unless it is low-brow nonsensical verbal molestation.

I find (depending on how much Mt Dew and ham are in my system) my sense of humor ranges from low-brow, to mid-brow, to high-brow. Now, it may seem like I just threw all sorts of monkey shit against the wall, but I assure you, I am deeper than that. Allow me to prove it.

Some background: I once saw monkeys at the Portland Zoo flinging their poo at people. I laughed and watched for the next hour as the tourists were fecal-assaulted continuously. It was almost like a pie fight from those old movies - one sided of course. I laughed until I almost shit myself – a turtle head was definitely poking. True story.

If I had to provide a formal definition of my humor and humor in general, I would say: I like pussy. Why pussy? To anthropomorphize humor by pointing out easily traumatized and vulnerable pleasure female parts seems knee-slapping funny to me. And no, I'm not on any meds - yet!

Local Druggies Huff Elephant Queef

2008-05-15T16:42:00.000-07:00

Federal officials and zoologists are baffled at the increasing occurrence of the nation’s high school and college students huffing elephant queef. Pictured here are engineering students in their makeshift “atmo-queef” suits getting high.

What is elephant queef, or EQ, you ask? When air gets trapped in a vagina and is expelled, it makes a minor flatulent sound. If you have had sex with a female, you may have experienced this phenomenon. Now multiply the volume of the queef by one-hundred and you have an elephant queef.

EQ junkies refuse to tell us how they extract the queef from the elephants, nor do they comment on how the air initially gets into the elephant vaginas to start with. We can only speculate gallons of alcohol, bellows, Spanish fly, a water hose, and a Rube Goldberg type of device is involved.

EQ junkies report immediately after huffing, they feel all tingly, can taste colors, smell what the date is, and shit themselves. Several EQ enthusiasts are working on squelching that last side effect – even though there may be a secondary market for EQ induced feces in China as a “male enhancement” vitamin.

Vorpal Sphere PSA:

2008-05-13T11:17:00.000-07:00

Know Your Zombie

2008-05-08T00:01:00.000-07:00

The price for an eternal zombie-free society is diligence and education. In keeping with this philosophy, we here at Vorpal Sphere are happy to share these handy little guides.

Lucky Bastard

2008-05-03T00:01:00.000-07:00

For the benefit of polite society, a rimjob is defined as: The splendid art of enjoying the flavor and scent of your lover’s ass while you greedily lick and taste their brown spider. All this culminates in a total mouth to anus suction and licking frenzy resulting in a thorough cleansing and an anal orgasm for your lover.

Midget Crew Uppity & Communist

2008-05-02T09:59:00.001-07:00

During the May Day protests on May 1^st, several bands of roving communist midgets reeked havoc on downtown Seattle businesses and residents. They call themselves the “crew” and are notoriously anti-capitalists, anti-Semites, and anti-panty. Local women had their skirts looked up and ankles fondled. Law enforcement attempted to apprehend the diminutive dastards, but came up short.

Soma Says: Hilary Does Well For Herself

2008-04-25T03:19:00.001-07:00

Hillary Clinton declared victory in the recent Pennsylvania Primary. This intrepid reporter waited patiently at the Hilary Clinton campaign headquarters while campaign staffers celebrated by snorting cocaine off of dead puppies and making prank calls to local pizzerias.

The evening included a twenty-five Eskimo all male sex show where several office implements were utilized during the erotic act. The celebration ended the next morning with all but yours truly passed out. The office smelled of feces and ammonia. No one was sober enough or even awake to interview and I was lucky to get out of there unmolested - but not before tea-bagging some strangers. I love my job.

Midget Thought Gay, Actually French

2008-04-21T16:43:00.001-07:00

Local authorities conducted a sweep of circuses, film sets, and daycare centers in search of the notorious mad scientist, Os Tête Cerveau. Os, the on-again-off-again acquaintance of Quantum Lux, is wanted by Interpol for various crimes against humanity ranging from “arboreal necrophilia” to “impersonating a leprechaun.” Os is a known ally of the 500 year-old transvestite Amish zombie, Yabbi-ta. (see Field Report: Signs of the Apocalypse? post)

"Jigsaw" Strikes Again!

2008-04-20T09:36:00.000-07:00

Murder most foul! The serial killer known as "Jigsaw" claimed another victim last night with a diabolically ingenious deadly puzzle-trap. Sandy the kitten was lured into what investigators are calling "the yarn trap" with promises of "play and sweet bliss" as recorded by Jigsaw himself on a taped message found in Sandy's hip pocket.

Death occurred by self-strangulation during exhaustive and rigorous yarn play. Also found in Sandy's pockets were a bag of catnip, a glass pipe, a lighter, three mouse tails, and Prozac. Sandy gained national prominence after being sexually linked to once powerful, now fallen, U.S. senator Slappy the cat. (see Who is your Slappy? posting)

Where Are They Now? E.T.

2008-04-19T16:15:00.000-07:00

Do you remember that cute little shaven ape in that movie E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial? Of course you do. It is still one of the top grossing movies of all time. I caught up with E.T. for a surprisingly candid interview and received an in-your-face update as to the doings of E.T. after all these years.

It started while I was hunched over in the middle of a field taking a monster shit. I had stunned a family of squirrels with one of the concussion grenades I happened to have with me - so I was set for toilet paper. Living “Green” means shit streaks down a squirrel’s back helps them with their camouflage - and that’s never wrong.

Experience had taught me to always be prepared because one never knew when the world will go tits up, and having a wide selection of munitions always helps ease the transition from civil society to horrid mutant wasteland. Experience also taught me that I am never more vulnerable than when I am taking a dump. It is at these special moments I am most heavily armed. God bless Chuck Heston, the NRA, and The Duke.

So there I was, hunched over in the middle of a field taking a monster shit when who should stumble through the underbrush but E.T. himself, 3 days drunk and sporting several cold sores around his mouth. As I reached for my Beretta 9 mm, I noticed E.T.’s eyes were darting about in a paranoid fashion as he whirled around in shaky circles.

At the base of his back was a crude swastika and the numbers 88 tattooed. There was a bullet scar on his right shoulder, railroad tracks on his left arm and between his toes, a dozen knife scars on his abdomen and sides, and a sharp waft of exotic berries and sweet fruit accompanied his asthmatic labored breathing.

Without even looking, I already knew E.T. had golf ball sized hemorrhoids hanging out of his ass like a vine of grapes. The vision before me was telling me the story of E.T. with glaring clarity. After the movie came out, E.T. couldn’t find any meaningful real work in Hollywood, and did a few commercials and some stage work as Othello.

That soon dried up and his wife divorced him; leaving E.T. alone, broke, and homeless. He was desperate and developed alcoholism as well as a craven desire to view Asian fetish porn involving vomit, ninja, and apples. This eventually led him to the gay porn industry working as a “power bottom twink.” The perks were few and the pay was even less.

His desperation led him to deep depression and robbing liquor stores to feed his ever growing gambling debts. During one such robbery E.T. was shot in the shoulder by a clerk and arrested whereby he landed in state prison. No prison gang would have him so he aligned himself with those he most felt comfortable with, the Aryan Nation.

The Aryan Nation made E.T. their prison bitch and tattooed him with a swastika and the numbers 88 to signify their ownership of E.T. and his drug mule status. He got herpes from giving too much prison head and eating prison cake. No doubt a fight broke out with another prison gang causing E.T. to be shanked repeatedly. While in the prison infirmary he got hooked on morphine and later heroine.

I knew E.T.’s entire history without him uttering a word. He had done things that he’s not proud of, or even remembers. Yup, I had his number. There he was in all his drunken glory – and just as fast, E.T. stumbled back through the underbrush. I hadn’t flinched during the entire encounter because I had enough firepower with me to overthrow a small country.

So there I was, hunched over in the middle of a field taking a monster shit when the squirrels started to regain consciousness, I needed to act fast. So I reached for another grenade…

Soma Says: Man Orally Rapes Bear Cub

2008-04-17T16:58:00.000-07:00

Is this another sign of the apocalypse? Worry not folks, I have several contacts throughout every strata of life and I will get to the bottom of this. Stay tuned for further news.

Oh, and by the way, "metrosexual" is code for gay. Hear me ladies? The next time you fall for a guy who takes care of himself, exorcises, is fit, eats right, and is ultra attentive about his grooming habits and uses a body spray, chances are good balls were aggressively bouncing off his chin last night right before he swallowed. Since we are talking about oral, I thought I’d bring that up. You know, in preparation for the upcoming zombie apocalypse and all.

Field Report: Signs of the Apocalypse?

2008-04-17T16:39:00.000-07:00

Yabbi-ta, a 500 year-old gender confused Amish zombie, rose from the dead today and threatened to “make shit happen” if its demands were not met; namely, to drink the blood of children and make good on the ancient Aztec “vote or die" prophecy.

According to Quantum Lux, cat-about-town and current Chief Executive Overlord of Vorpal Sphere, “Yabbi-ta represents 1% of all known zombie-kind and it is more accurate to call it a “revenant” as it has the goal of bringing about the apocalypse, creating other undead, and voting in the upcoming presidential election. Other distinguishing traits of Yabbi-ta include: the ability to speak, gender-shifting, cross-dressing, and lurking in dark places."

Lux added, "Sooner or later I will draw upon all my knowledge of zombie-lore for a showdown with Yabbi-ta. I’m ready and my kung-fu is strong.” Folklore tells us eating brains is the hallmark of zombie-kind, the disgraced Amish zombie is not above a little snack on the side.

The New Guy

2008-04-15T19:34:00.000-07:00

Greetings, my name is Jonny Soma. Our glorious founder has seen fit to appoint me as the Senior Field Reporter for Vorpal Sphere. I plan to tackle this with all the zeal of an escaped mental patient on the hunt for a greasy taco. That's greasy taco the food, not greasy taco the vagina. Unless you are a cannibal that is. In that case, you get the best of both worlds.

My new position means greater responsibility. I shall go to where the story is. I shall find the truth – barring that, I will substitute my reasonable investigative findings for that which I feel needs to be reported. If I still come up short - I'll just make it up. Watch for "Soma Says," "Where Are They Now," and "Field Report" for future postings.

Consensual Fisting?

2008-04-14T21:20:00.000-07:00

It’s that time of year again where the government bends us over and shoves a thick prick up our asses. No dinner, no kiss, no lube - just the cold harsh reality of anal intrusion without the benefit of alcohol first. That’s how it seems at times. Whatever happened to all those promises of simplifying the tax code? Let them eat cake – let them “work, earn, and consume.”

Oh to be 9 years old again where my only care was to be home before the street lights turn on. There was something almost James Bond-ish about that. Back then, at least it was only clergy tapping my ass and not a football stadium size group of bureaucrats looking to move in. I miss my anal virginity, metaphorically speaking of course.

Noise-hole

2008-04-14T08:39:00.000-07:00

Verbal idiocy is a debilitating condition marked by an aura of social ineptness. What if the all-encompassing umbrella of verbal idiocy and ignorance had a name? My personal encapsulating definition is “noise-hole,” which is further defined as “the unpleasant and undesired sounds emanating from the oral aperture of an ignorant person’s head.” When encountering such, I recommend having earplugs handy for audio-defense as well as an escape plan.

Over the years I’ve grown extremely annoyed by certain people spewing a string of foolish ill-thought words that I couldn't help but correct them for the sake of the human gene pool. I am fed up with people who are erupting volcanoes of verbal idiocy. We have all encountered such frustration in our lives. Chances are we will again. Am I to endure such nonsense for the rest of my life? Is there no government program available to help these unfortunate souls? Has the bluebird of happiness quietly been replaced with the red pigeon of despair? Not if we understand the enemy is ignorance. Ignorant statements emanating from somebody's mouth may not be depleting the ozone layer, but it can't help. Under these conditions, that mouth becomes a noise-hole and is the bane of all reason wielding and clear thinking sentient beings.

Ignorance distinguishes a noise-hole with glaring clarity. Identifying a noise-hole and its ignorant owner is the first step in treating the cause. Treating only the symptom will result in mind numbing failure that is sure to trigger years of therapy and screaming oneself to sleep. I'm not talking about curtailing free speech by any means. I am talking about identifying and correcting those people who don’t know what they are talking about. They are the same folks who won't let the facts get in the way when discussing a topic with anyone within earshot. How they do not implode under the weight of their own stupidity is a science beyond the scope of my current education level and this benevolent posting.

I will identify a few groups and categories for the purpose of classification. These quotes are from real people and I refuse to tie a name with the quote because I don’t want to provide anymore notoriety these people think they already have. The truly ignorant know nothing, nor do they want to know anything. They are perfectly content in their own little world and never bother with any knowledge outside of their immediate sphere. Example, “We should pay for all illegal alien’s bills that are lucky enough to get here.” “We should just not worry about the terrorists, and then they will leave us alone.” Anybody paid to work in or around politics more often than not has an active noise-hole. They are especially active during an election year. Example, "You know the one thing that's wrong with this country? Everyone gets a chance to have their fair say." "It is wonderful to be here in the great state of Chicago." An ever increasing number of news anchors, news media, and journalists have the loudest and most public noise-holes. Example, “We are fair and balanced.” “Those who survived the San Francisco earthquake said, ‘Thank God, I'm still alive.’ But, of course, those who died, their lives will never be the same again." "Most cars on our roads have only one occupant, usually the driver." Actors and famous people in the entertainment industry are astronomic public abusers of their noise-holes when they are not in rehab, ducking a paternity suit, or otherwise engaged in nefarious and scandalous activity. Example, "Smoking kills. If you're killed, you've lost a very important part of your life." "Fiction writing is great; you can make up almost anything." "Whenever I watch TV and I see those poor starving kids all over the world, I can't help but cry. I mean I would love to be skinny like that, but not with all those flies and death and stuff." Radical fanatics and zealots have nothing but their noise-holes to rely and feed each other’s ignorance with vexing efficiency. Example, “The feminist agenda is not about equal rights for women. It is about a socialist, anti-family political movement that encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism, and become lesbians.” Pressure groups usually have the most well funded noise-holes. Drug abusers have the best medicated noise-holes and always seem to be struggling for their daily share of oxygen. The following are exempt from the noise-hole designation due to situation or circumstance: The mentally challenged, brain trauma victims, anyone below 18 years old, and anyone over 107 years old. This list is substantially shorter.

Now let’s ask ourselves, what kind of diseased brine do their twisted brains slosh and float? If the noise-holes ran society, up would be down, donkey-punching would be in fashion, personal accountability would disappear, lettuce would have the vote, and I would be taxed every time I surfed the Internet. Think I’m joking? Wait and see which of these are being debated and passed by our lawmakers at this moment. But I digress. Noise-holes can come off as festering pustules of vitriolic hate that need an emotional and social time out. Pandemonium is said to be the capital city of hell. If ignorant noise-hole practitioners continue to gain momentum in their campaign of vocalizing their idiotic buffoonery and fascist social engineering, pandemonium will be just beyond our front door. Intellectual and knowledge stagnation is an insidious tumor in the otherwise healthy body of critical thought and rational reasoning. It is my wish to inform everyone of such perils and shine a light on the plague of the noise-hole. Let's hope a metaphoric vaccine is soon discovered and knowledge wins the battle over noise-hole ignorance. Until then, let’s do our part and correct any noise-hole ignorance encountered. What say you?

Keeping my Daughter off the Pole by Fishing

2008-04-14T08:13:00.000-07:00

I have a daughter and I have dreams for her. My dreams for her are not so grandiose as to be unachievable. In fact, to call them dreams is perhaps a bit misleading. I want for my daughter. I want for her all the things every parent wants for their child – good health, success, warmth, love, and happiness. More especially, I want for my daughter the ability to view the world through the eyes of wonderment. Curiosity comes natural for her, just as it did when I was 4 years old and questioned the world around me. I questioned my father about the stars in the sky and the mermaids below the sea. I questioned why water tastes like nothing yet boogers came in a variety of flavors - and dispositions.

Rather than sit and wait for my daughter to start questioning the world around her, I chose to take action. I first tried by taking her to some baseball games – why not? Baseball teaches teamwork and patriotism. She quickly grew tired of America’s national pastime.

I next gave fishing a shot – I mean, how hard could teaching my daughter be? A little self-reliance and recreation would be good for her. I have been fishing all my life and I turned out okay – my parole officer and the voices in my head say so. Taking her fishing would be doing her a favor, after all, I don’t want her to join a gang, or turn into some hippie, or even be seduced by the violin.

The first goal was to convince her that sharks or crocodiles don’t live in the body of water we would be fishing. Not because she is scared of them – but because she was afraid they would eat all the fish before we had a chance to catch them. She hates competition and will grow up to be quite the capitalist.

She showed the uncanny ability to find worms. It was as if she were a debt collector looking for worms in default. She reasoned that if worms are good enough for fish to eat, then they are good enough for humans to eat. I quickly dissuaded her from this line of thought by telling her if we eat the worms, then the fish won’t have any.

I showed her how to bait the hook and even let her bait mine. As she did this, she squealed with the ecstasy and joy usually seen in the criminally psychotic – I was proud of her. When she wasn’t looking, and before I cast my line out, I removed the worm from my hook thus ensuring she would land the first fish. She did – one after another. At the end of the day she asked me when we could go fishing again – and also not to tell mom - because this, was our thing.

Turkey vs Rabbit

2008-04-13T17:52:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it takes a loving slap to the face to hook and enlighten a reader enough to continue reading. While the topic of global warming may seem to need no such verbal hook, inbred generational eco-empathy, ignorance, and distortion are alive and well. Let me hook you.

Let's say my grandmother made a Thanksgiving turkey with all the trimmings. Let's also say this was one huge bird. The kind of bird that causes all my hungry relatives to pat their stomachs and quietly think, “I'm sure glad I wore my eating clothes today.” This is the kind of bird that could feed Rhode Island, twice. Upon closer inspection, the kind of bird that could trigger several countries to hire Sherpas and scale it to plant their national flag for the bragging rights.

Let's further say while my relative’s eyes were making a hundred promises of phenomenal textures and tastes their stomachs would soon regret, I carried this plump turkey to the top of a seven story building, Atlas style on my back, stopping only to pose and flex for the paparazzi. If I tossed the turkey over the edge of the roof, what would happen? Any rational thinking person would say it would fall to the pavement below due to gravity. Others would say I am an idiot for removing a delicious turkey from immediate consumption. I say it would be efficiently tenderized and enjoyed by many. Is everybody right? Regardless, the turkey and terra-ferma are now well acquainted and several university seismometers can provide confirmation.

Now let’s say I replaced that plump and juicy turkey with an equally cute and fuzzy bunny. Any rational thinking person would say it is cruel to toss a fuzzy bunny off a seven story building, especially since it would presumably soil itself on the way down. Members of PETA would try and chain themselves to the cute fuzzy bunny and stage protests while chanting mantras and sloganeering. Because it is a living thing, we now have a new factor in the equation, specifically emotions. Where humanity is concerned, emotions cause more irrational thoughts, words, and actions than any known substance in the universe, even reality TV! Don't worry, the cute fuzzy bunny is actually a veteran stunt rabbit (local 223) and makes more in a year than most corporate CEOs. No doubt because of a lesser known provision of the Patriot Act. See, don't you feel better now? Emotional disaster averted.

There are scant few subjects in the world that the human race bothers to recognize enough to understand, undertake, and solve. People take minor notice or give little consideration to global war, global famine, global terrorism, global plagues, or the global economy. Global warming, however, is at a fever pitch in the United States. As with any potentially emotional issue, there are always extremists and fanatics on both sides of the argument. A wide variety of voices cuts a swath of opinion and adds to the debate of the cause and effect of global warming.

Unfortunately, extremists and fanatics saturate the global warming debate with junk science, emotions, vitriol, misleading data, and downright idiot buffoonery. These voices, more often than not, drown out legitimate data, research, and facts. As clear thinking and rational people, we should always consider the source of any fact, theory, or data point.

It is up to the individual to assess the agenda that motivates each side’s view, data, and facts to sift through the rhetoric that seems to permeate this potentially emotional issue. Politicians seek to garner votes, scientists seek research funding, political action groups seek donations, fringe organizations want to push their beliefs on everybody, and the general public is caught up in the wake of hazy deceit, pseudo-science, politics, and the truth. It’s all enough to make a cute fuzzy stunt rabbit eat an efficiently tenderized turkey.

Who is your Slappy?

2008-04-13T15:29:00.001-07:00

This is my brother Slappy. He used to be a U.S. senator who, like some other losers and scrubs, likes to "medicate" himself into oblivion. We all know someone like Slappy. Anytime he is sleeping off a bender, I find new and interesting ways to yank his chain. Just last week when I tripped over his relaxed carcass, I acted fast by administering a teabag wipe across his forehead.

For the benefit of polite society, "tea-bagging" is dipping your (hopefully sweaty) testicles onto a helpless friend, family, lover, or (if you are very lucky) a stranger. It's a subtle yet highly useful maneuver. Much like dipping a real teabag into some hot water. But I digress...

It's always advisable to have a cover story in place if caught. As always, I did. If Slappy came at me with "Yo, Quantum Lux, why did you teabag me bro?" I would assure him with "Listen Slappy, when the zombies rise and are roaming the countryside looking to munch brains, they will see you are already "marked" as belonging to someone else, and thus will leave you alone. I did it to save your life man!" Slappy would have no choice but to be grateful and offer to scoop my cat box for a month. Sweet!

Lift off

2008-04-13T15:10:00.000-07:00

People piss me off. Not all of them, just the idiots. It seems no one takes responsibility for their actions anymore. These people spout off the most insane nonsensical rhetoric imaginable as well as act the bumbling fool. It is in this vein I chose to act and start this site - this, my grand thesis. Strap yourself in, it's going to be a bumpy ride!