Cheese Bus

...What biblical scholars are wrestling with is how to inform the public and theological leaders that interpretations of ancient scripture must be re-examined after a mistake in translation, dating back to antiquity, has revealed that what has always been taken for the Lord's name, "Jesus," is really a mistaken translation for the two words, "Cheese Bus."

"It isn't figurative," Professor ______ of the _______ institute said on Friday. "An actual bus made of cheese, according to these new, more accurate translations, will ferry souls to the afterlife."

The type of cheese is unknown at this time. "We're working on newly discovered texts, but it may take several months to decipher."

In the meantime, the official announcement is proving difficult to make.

"People will not be happy about this," the professor said. "Believers around the world have been praying to a anthropomorphic deity, when really, it seems as if it is some sort of school bus made of cheese. There's no mention of a driver. I guess it drives itself."

OPINION TIME

What is your opinion about OPINION TIME?

Here is where we will have a frank and open discussion about our opinions about OPINION TIME.

If someone disagrees with you about OPINION TIME, make sure to let them know; tell them your opinion about them disagreeing with your opinion about OPINION TIME. This is constructive.

Do not change your opinion about OPINION TIME under any circumstances, but be certain that with a reasonable argument, you can change another person's opinion about OPINION TIME.

Remember, if someone disagrees with your opinion about OPINION TIME, they are wrong, and their disagreement with your opinion about OPINION TIME is a personal attack. It is best to respond in kind with a personal attack. Insult their character, heredity, or intelligence. This is a sound persuasive tactic that always works, and brings those of differing opinions around to your way of thinking.

OPINION TIME. What is your opinion?

the annoying

That person at work, or on the news, or on the street, or at the party, or wherever, who is so annoying is not annoying by virtue of their age, or their race, or their gender, or their nationality, or their class, or their politics or their whatever. They are annoying by virtue of being human.  Some people are simply annoying. They are not annoying because of some artificial classification. It is their character, or their circumstance, which is unique to them.

Grouping large numbers of individuals by superficial similarities is a mistake of logic. It is lazy thinking to paint millions of people a certain way in the mind simply by virtue of a few annoying people with whom they share a superficial characteristic.

# THERE'S A PROBLEM WITH THAT THING

"There's a problem with that thing."

"No there isn't."

"Yes there is. That thing is happening all the time. We could fix the problem. It would take a lot of work, but..."

"No. There isn't a problem. I do not see a problem."

"But what about X, Y, and Z? We need to fix this stuff. Something needs to change."

"Those are isolated incidents. They are not connected in any way. All circumstances and events exist in a vacuum."

"They are a trend. They are a symptom of a bigger issue."

"No they aren't. Can you give me a specific example?"

"A couple, but there are so many..."

"If you can't give me twenty specific examples, right now, off the top of your head, there isn't a problem. If you give me twenty examples, I'll ask for twenty-one examples."

"This Thing is a problem. It's complicated and involves..."

"I don't see it. It isn't affecting me, so it isn't a problem..."

"It's a problem."

"Do you have a specific solution, that you can describe completely, right now? Is it foolproof and perfect, as all plans are foolproof and perfect?"

"Well no..."

"See? Then there is no problem, and even if there was a problem, which there isn't, it can't be fixed because there is no perfect solution that is easy, and involves no sacrifice. No problem."

"But..."

"Nope. End of discussion. I have to go do things now. Also, booze now. I do not have time for this. Things are going well for me, so there is no problem. Booze now, and sports. Booze now?"

"Yes, booze I suppose."

~~~  LATER ~~~

"Can you believe that thing that happened on the news!? It is awful and terrible! This will briefly make me somewhat sad, for a few days, or hours!!"

"Yes. I can believe it. I don't see why you are surprised. It is part of the thing we were talking about the other day, these things are connected."

"No. There is no problem. That is not a real problem. We don't need to fix it, it isn't a problem."

"You don't see how that led to this?"

"No. It is another isolated incident. I have to go do things now that are important to me. Work stuff now. Booze later, and also, sports."

# LET'S FOCUS ON DUMB, SUPERFICIAL THINGS, FOR FREEDOM

An old guy who won a track-and-field event 39 years ago got a sex-change operation.

Unless there's some potential for romantic involvement, for a mature, thinking person, another person's gender should be one of the least interesting and least important attributes about that person.

If the winner of the men's decathlon event at the 1976 Summer Olympics in Montreal wants to change genders, then good for him, that's his business.

If an annoying professional "exister" on an annoying reality show wants to change genders, then good for him. That's his business.

That annoying person on that annoying reality show will probably still be annoying, because, for most situations, gender does not matter.

Unless there's some potential for romantic involvement, for a mature, thinking person, another person's gender should be one of the least interesting and least important attributes about that person.

It might be important to that other person, and that’s fine. Respect that.

But really, for most situations, when interacting with other humans in non-romantic things, gender is unimportant.
People who make a big deal about superficial things are like large, dumb children.

The only person who should be concerned about the gender of the winner of the men's decathlon event at the 1976 Summer Olympics in Montreal is the winner of the men's decathlon event at the 1976 Summer Olympics, or somebody who is trying to fuck the winner of the men's decathlon event at the 1976 Summer Olympics in Montreal.

Are you hoping to be romantically involved with the winner of the men's decathlon event at the 1976 Summer Olympics? Are you currently romantically involved with the winner of the men's decathlon event at the 1976 Summer Olympics?

No? Then the gender of the winner of the men's decathlon event at the 1976 Summer Olympics doesn't matter.

An old guy who won a track-and-field event 39 years ago got a sex-change operation.

# AN INSIDIOUS TYPE OF BLOG POST

I want to warn you all about an insidious type of blog post. These posts are ironically self-referential, disguised as warnings about ironically self-referential blog posts. They are pointless and lead nowhere, but the goal of these posts is to entice the reader (you) into reading further, although the sentences, using apparently interesting multisyllabic, technical sounding words, lead nowhere. These posts often repeat themselves. They frequently say the same thing over and over again, but using different phrasing. Posts of this kind often describe themselves using the very characteristics of the blog posts they claim to be warning others to avoid. In fact, the posts are those very posts to be avoided, but by the time this is revealed, the reader has invested enough time on the blog post to continue reading, hoping for some payoff. Perhaps there is some insight hidden within the somewhat scientific-sounding jargon. It seems quite possible, that later in the blog post, the reader will find some comment on social-awareness, or some information regarding the psychology of ironically self-referencing posts. This is an illusion; the reader will gain no benefit from continuing to read this type of post, but even after several warnings, they continue to read. It is as if the blog post is physically pulling the eye across the meaningless symbols, forcing the mind to strive to combine the words into some coherent message, where none exists. It is a type of symbiotic madness, shared between the writer of the blog post, and the reader. For as the post is both written and read, the reader and writer are locked, however briefly in the same blog post. It is a type of suspended animation, because really, neither of us are doing anything useful, are we? The blog post will sometimes try to insinuate some connection between the reader and the post itself. They have been together a long time. It would be heartbreaking if there were no payoff, no point to any of this. Why did we read this?

So anyway, I just wanted to let you guys know that these types of posts are out there, and to be aware of them. If you run across one, don't read it! But perhaps it is too late.

#54 HAIR KINDA LIKE FARRAH FAWCETT

There's a sound beyond
The Doorway Door.
Let's open it
A little more.

What do you think
We'll find out there?
A monster combing
Its auburn hair?

Admiring its snout
And adorable pout
In a mirror, while drinking
A pint of stout?

Or a garden
Blooming under the sun,
With Sprites and Goblins
Having fun?

Or the infinite
Void of outer space?
With moons and stars
All over the place?

We cannot guess.
We'll have to go
Through the Doorway Door
And then we'll know.

The monster admires
Its eyes and roars
At the mirror it bought
At the Dollar Store.

The Goblins are drinking
And arguing sports,
Solo cups, barbecue,
Bermuda shorts.

A spaceship is docking
With Space-Station Nine
Delivering grain
And a shipment of wine.

The space-station caption
Is thinking of home—
Doesn't trust his wife.
She's back there alone.

The Sprites left the party
And went to a bar
(The Goblins were boring)
They went in the car

Belonging to Carol
(She works in HR)
Carol's been sober
For over a year.

Carol the Sprite:
Her husband's away
At the Space Port
She's lonely and tempted to stray

But enough about Carol!
I'm sure she'll be fine
If she sleeps with Diane,
She'll have a good time.

Anyway, none of that
Stuff's going on
The Doorway Door's
An enigma Beyond—

The Space Port Captain
Is under great stress
He's taking it out on his staff
It's a mess!

But this is mundane!
This is a bore!
You'd think we'd do better
In the Doorway Door!

The Sprites get a table
And order their drinks.
Diane looks at Carol,
And what do you think?

This poem isn't going
To be about that!
It should be profound,
More thoughtful and apt!

"I've prescribed you these pills,"
Said the Doc to the Captian
"For mild depression,
Don't worry—"

No poem! No!
This has gone all wrong!
And now you've managed
To go too long.

"Hey what about me?"
Monster wants to know.
"You forgot about me
Twelve stanzas ago."

"You look very nice,"
The poem responds.
"You're hair looks kinda like
Farrah Fawcett."

The monster grins,
Oh what a fright! And it asks:
"Did those two women
Hook up that night?"

"I really don't know!"
Exclaims the poem.
It's time to depart
The Doorway Door.

Oh now I get it!
We got the wrong door.
We were in the
Bore-way Door.

#44 PSA POEM: ANOTHER REASON TO BE NICE.

All the little kids,
Out on the playground
Are learning to play together!

Running and jumping,
Laughing and learning!
They're all getting along!

(Except for Pete K,
From Mrs. R's class,
That kid is an asshole!
He pushes and shoves!)

But everyone else,
Is getting along!
Standing in line
They file into the school!

(Except for Pete K,
He's a little bully.
Whispering horrible things
Into Jacob's L's ear!)

The kids are in class,
Learning their lessons,
Learning to read
And to write and to add!

(Except for Pete K,
This kid is obnoxious,
He's making fart noises
And kicking Anne's chair)

The kids get together,
They're making a plan,
They whisper together
And look at Pete K!

The following morning,
Pete K's not at school,
And everyone's happy
And everything's cool!

All names in this story
Are fictional names,
If they sound like someone
Well that's just a shame.

So don't be the asshole,
At work or at school,
Your colleagues might
Be forced to do things un-cool,

Like poison your coffee,
Or follow you home,
So try to be nice,
And leave each other alone!

I'm too sexy for this post

I'm too sexy for this post, too sexy for this post
This post is the most.

I'm on Blogger, you know what I mean
And I type my little words in the textbox
Yeah in the textbox, in the textbox yeah
I type my tiny thoughts in the textbox

I'm too sexy for this update.

Lazy Americans for Equal Representation

Another dumb election season, another barrage of advertisements touting how this or that candidate hurt or helped "hard working families." Always with the "hard working families." What about the rest of us? What about the families that are just doing the bare minimum? The "slacker families?" Who's looking out for us?

Why are their no ads pandering to "lazy families," the "shiftless, borderline narcoleptic families?" Who is representing the "lackadaisical families?"
What candidate is looking out for the "lethargic families?"

#47 The Greatest Nap of All

I believe that napping's in my future,
Close the door and nap the day away
Show them all the snoozes I possess inside
Because I'm tired, I'm getting sleepier
Let the voicemail take my calls, because I'm sleeping
All day long.

I decided long ago, to take a nap, my head on a pillow
If I fail, if I succeed,
At least I'll get the sleep I need!
No matter what I'm sposta do,
It has to wait 'til after Three!

Because the great-est, nap of all,
Is happening to me.
Learning to nap all day
Is the greatest nap of all.

We Could Put An Unnecessary Blinking Light On It

So the power company put new meters on all the houses in our neighborhood for some reason. Fine, whatever. But this evening, walking around the block, it turns out there's a blinking red light on the side of everybody's house now, because you can't just put in a new meter, you have to put a blinking red light on it, because _________ wtf, I don't know. You've got to put a blinking light on everything, for some reason. God forbid you put up a power meter without a blinking red light. It's a red light, and it blinks. On every house.

 "Bob, I like the design on the new meters, but is there any way we could make them obnoxious, somehow?"

"Well, we could put an unnecessary blinking light on it, you know, to tell the customer, 'hey, don't forget, we're the Power Company. We can make your house blink.'"

 "I like it. It makes it more complicated, for no reason. And obnoxious. Make it red. And make sure it blinks."

Worst Name for a Breakfast Cereal

"Litterbox Harvest"

#49 Twice So Doubly Apt to Say

My everything is anything,
Twice so doubly apt to say.
When reason-thinking's sillified,
By half-thought silence by the way.

A half-glimpsed secret nullified
By twice distracted green-light goes
When dust-mote sunbeam silent house
A weekday slow solidified.

My everything is anything,
Twice so doubly apt to say.

# ONE TRUE ALLEN WRENCH

And yea, though you find the allen wrench set, after looking in the Five Places, thou shalt not find the one of the proper size, for Lo! There are two missing. And again thou shalt search, and Yea! You shall, in that other toolbox with the stuff you don't use very often, thou shalt find yet another allen wrench set, different from the first, yet similar. But nay, thou shalt not find the one of the proper size, and there will be much gnashing of teeth.

Search in vain, thou shalt not find what you seek, and the Bristles from the Wire Brush will stab thine fingers, and the tiny drawers with various screws, nuts and bolts shalt confound you, you shall not find the allen wrench, the One True Allen Wrench, proper for the task, and thou shalt weep. Yea, you will find loose allen wrenches hither and yon, but not the One True Allen Wrench of Power.

But Lo! Those little allen-wrench tipped screwdriver thingies you got at the Dollar Store, in an age past shalt be discovered unlooked for, and the proper size shalt be revealed, and the little set screw to hold the wheel on the axle shalt be turned clockwise, as it was written.

War Stuff for Freedom or Whatever

This Veterans day, lets not stop at honoring Vets who have already dealt with War Bullshit; lets be sure in the fact that some asshole in a suit somewhere is cooking up some new War Bullshit, so our children and eventually, their children will get to deal with some War Bullshit. It'll probably involve getting oil or China or something. Then we'll convince ourselves it was totally worth it. And then they'll make movies about it and do ceremony stuff before sporting events. For freedom or whatever.

TODAY I AM THANKFUL FOR FIRE

Bob Newhart, our 34th
President, established
the Fire Dept. System.

"Fire Good!" Even the Frankenstein monster finally realized that fire is good. Without fire, it would be winter both outside AND inside, and no one wants that. Fire was invented in 1933 by Nikola Tesla in response to the rising threat of Communism.

Today we use fire for many useful pastimes, such as cooking, home heating, and the combustion engine. During the Fire Embargo of the 1970s, fire shortages crippled the economy, and this led the Newhart Administration to establish the Fire Department System, which endures to this day.

# TODAY I AM THANKFUL FOR AIR!

Without air, there would be no Wright Brothers, because an airplane works because of differential air pressure on a wing foil as it passes through air. No Wright Bros., no airplanes. No airplanes, no Fantasy Island. No Fantasy Island, no Hervé Villechaize saying "De Plane! De Plane!" I don't want to live in a world where that didn't happen.

Air: without air, we would all have to wear spacesuits. I wouldn't want to live in a world where we all wore spacesuits. Plus, Hervé Villechaize in a tiny spacesuit is horrifying.

Not only that, there would be no movie, "The Boy In The Plastic Bubble," (he wouldn't need a bubble, he would always be in a spacesuit) That movie in turn inspired the "Bubble Boy" episode on Seinfeld. That was hilarious! "Moops?"

None of that would have happened, and even if it had happened, it would have happened in spacesuits. Not as awesome.

And anyway, giving everyone spacesuits wouldn't even work, because there would be nothing to refill the air tanks with, so we would die.

Can you imagine? A landscape filled with spacesuits, which would in turn be filled with human skeletons? The malls filled with spacesuit-wearing skeletons, hospital nurseries with basinets filled with tiny skeletons in tiny spacesuits, lifeless old-folks' homes with wheelchairs full of lifeless spacesuit-wearing skeletons, and highways filled with wrecked cars, which in turn would contain space-suited human skeletons, mold growing on the surface of their Starbucks Lattes. Think about it. Now you're thankful for air, huh?

With no air, there would be no early sailing ships. {no wind ya'all} No early sailing ships, no pilgrims, and NO THANKGIVING!

{mind blown}

And even if we had managed to have a Thanksgiving in our rudimentary space suits, we could never have given smallpox-infected blankets to the Indians, because the smallpox would never kill them because they would always be wearing their Indian spacesuits, so they would have eventually wiped us out with their plasma rifles. (They wouldn't have arrows, because arrows are made of wood, and can a tree grow in a vacuum? I think not. Think these things through people!)

No, it would be nothing but herds of spacesuit-wearing buffalo and spacesuit-wearing Indians riding spacesuit-wearing horses.

Nope, I don't want to live in that world. So today I am thankful for Air.

doug discovers a new "feature" on his phone

"CAN YOU HEAR ME?"
"Yes, I can hear you."
"DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS FEATURE?"
"Yes, it's always been able to do this."
"IT'S LIKE TEXTING, BUT WITH TALKING INSTEAD OF TYPING."
"I know, it's a ph—"
"DID YOU KNOW IT COULD DO THIS THE WHOLE TIME?"
"It's a phone Doug. That's what it was designed to—"
"BUT JUST TALKING! IT'S SO EASY! OH MAN, I GOT TO GO, I'LL TEXT YOU SOME MORE."

# THE ICE CREAM CATS OF ANTIOCH

The Ice Cream Cats of Antioch bore down on our cities in their silver ships. Merciless, clear-eyed, and silent, they were precise in their attacks on our infrastructure. They quickly took down power plants, bridges, military installations, and highways. As an extra warning, they took down exactly one hundred water towers: a demonstration of both their power, and their restraint.

How quickly mankind capitulated when faced with the overwhelming power of the Ice Cream Cats.  Then came the humiliating signing of surrender at the UN. The Ice Cream Cats said nothing. Aloof, looking bored, they collected the signatures of world leaders, and then returned to their silver ships. Thus began the reign of the Ice Cream Cats of Antioch.