The Eternal Debate

Since it’s birth, its very nature has been mired in debate. Fathers have turned against sons, friends have become foes, entire nations have been torn asunder in a quest to answer the following question.

The hot dog. Is it a sandwich?

First, we must ask. What is a sandwich? It is, at its core, a filling which usually contains meat, flanked at both sides by a piece of bread. For this reason, I believe the question boils down to a small section of bread connecting both sides of the bun. I call this the “Gaza strip”.


This strip of bread makes the whole hot dog bun a single contiguous piece of bread, rather than two separate ones. This is the crux of the problem. However, I believe that this does not prevent the hot dog from being a sandwich.

Those that believe the hot dog is not a sandwich will say “Well what about the Taco then? Is the Taco a sandwich?” No, because a taco is generally made with a corn tortilla. That ain’t bread sir. What about a quesadilla? Yes, as it is generally made with a flour tortilla, the quesadilla is technically a sandwich, and I’m curious why you keep bringing up Mexican food. When did this become a racial thing? The Pita Pocket? I submit to you that this is also a sandwich.

This question must be answered for the sake of future generations. If it is left to languish, someone who believes one way or another is going to get nukes, and that will be bad times.

I've thought of jokes I would never tell

The vice president shot a man, in the face and chest.
And everyone thinks it’s HI-FUCKING LARIOUS.
Empathize for a moment. Whittington is undoubtedly shielded from all this. He’s in the hospital, with shrapnel wounds about the face and chest, and has had a heart attack already due to a pellet. This is why comedy is inappropriate. Because the punch-line is on him. He’s going to get out of the hospital, you can be damned sure he has the finest medical care possible. He’ll take it easy for a few days, and then start doing his routine, like watching the news. And he’s going to see an endless display of mirth and merriment over the fact that he almost got killed by someone he knew. And he’s going to get to hear people secretly hoping he dies, just so they can maybe charge Cheney with something.

While I enjoy black humor as much as the next guy…
I don’t hold to Mel brook’s theory of comedy, “Tragedy is when I get a paper-cut, comedy is when you fall down a manhole and die.” False. Funny is the guy getting amnesia, that’s comedy gold, and characters are fictional. But mortal wounds to real humans? That plain ain’t funny sir. At least, not as slapstick.

Deconstruct the joke:
Setup:Cheney shot a friend of his in the face! HA! And get this! The Fucker might die!
Punchline:
And if he lives, he’ll be forever scarred, physically as well as emotionally!

Not cool homey.. I agree, that the daily shows take was technically funny, it's schadenfreude at it's worst. Honestly, it’s an area I would simply avoid.

They’re like, half genius, half retarded, werewolves man!!
I love a good conspiracy theory as much as the next guy, but some people think this is some kind of hit, or coverup. I don't get it. One minute, Dick Cheney and George Bush are dumb-ass Chickenhawks, the next they are stone cold calculating kill crazy maim-bot 5000s. Which is it? If this is a cover-up, Dick is the dumbest ass ever. In front of a mess of people, he shoots someone in the face, and promptly notifies the police, confessing to the shooting.

OOH! BUT IT WASN’T THE NATIONAL PRESS!!!KEKEKE!!!1!ZERG RUSH!!1
And to the National news media? Boo Hoo Hoo! Get off your asses and start working beats you fucking hacks. You got marked by a local journo (listening to a police band, I assume), working beats, while you are used to being fed your stories through an intravenous feed. Johnny on the spot scooped you poseurs, and it’s the governments fault? I don't know that I've ever seen so many children outside of preschool in my life. Submitted, for your displeasure:


This is not from a comedy show. This is from an honest to God “Legitimate National News Media” outlet, and Dana Milbank is the asshole of his own story. Don't tell me that this didn't get cleared by someone. To the Washington press, Grow the fuck up. And to comediaticians everywhere, that’s cold. I see the humor potential but…damn.

A fatwah is issued for the murder of yours truly.

These maniacs over in the middle east, I mean, europe, rioting over a set of 4 month old polical cartoons, got me all motivated. I mean, four months? As riots go, that simply shows poor organizational skills. If I were islam, I'd be embarrassed. For those looking for a fascinating read, please see the following.



I would also like to state that, four months from now, I will be in hiding for the next decade.
Salud!

The remorseless confessions of an addict

It started off innocently; as a kid, I always read the paper, just to have something to do at breakfast. First it was the comics. A few years later, and I’m reading the sports section. Shortly after, I perused the Main section, and then the editorial pages. Before I knew it, I was snorting newsprint from the business section off a fresh orange rind every morning before I would go to school/work.

From then on, I couldn’t turn back. I all but stopped listening to the FM dial, for the informational succor of news, and the talk derived there from on the AM dial. I would put down the Washington times and change the station from CNN/ CNBC/ MSNBC, only when the anchorette for the local excuse for a nightly news show would come on.



Still fine, after all these years

Once I found out I could mainline my news straight off the wires over the internet, I was beyond hope. I could get every story, every Revision of every story, as it was put on the wire, right from my computer, at the cost of nothing. It was as if pure, uncut cocaine just started raining from the heavens, and a crackie never had to pay a dealer for a rock. It was euphoric.

I knew I was in trouble when I started getting cought up in the media wars, between internet commentary, and mainstream “reporting”. I was so far gone, I was interested less in the content, and was now concentrating on the Meta-News. News about the news organizations. It’s like a bleeding sport. I have my favorite teams, and rivalries. I cheered when Matt Drudge scooped Newsweek on their own story. I Booed, and hollared until my throat was sore at Dan Rather as he was ushered off of the anchor field.

But now, I wonder, where does my madness go from here? Is even the current international Screwballery capable of quenching my singular thirst for news? Will I find myself 20 years from now, a scandelous gossip, trying to know everything about everyone? Or should I apply for a job with the NSA? Now that I think of it, that sounds promising.

Oh, Sweet Cats.

They've found Captain America people.

You know what this means. Captain America was one of the first superheroes to hit the scene in the day. Afterwards, hundreds of new ones came onto the scene. Spiderman, Fantastic four, God only knows how many.

This bodes ill for the future. I'm talking about mutant terrorists, fights which cause incalculable property damage, planet consuming cosmic figures, Tyrants controlling the very fabric of existence, getting involved in galactic imbroglios, Cats and dogs, living together, Total chaos!

Now, I don't want you all to panic. I have a plan.



It involves rare crystals found in an asteroid. That should take care of the one called Superman. As for the rest of them, well, I've been working with a few senators, and we think we have something that will work, in the Mutant Registration act.

Superheroes are all fun and games until someone knocks superman through your buildings foundation, and you find out that your buildings insurance doesn't cover super powered fracases, or fires started by laser vision.

I laugh about nothing for hours

I’m a difficult person to make laugh. Yes, I will chuckle at your jokes, but no, I do not find them funny. I merely chortle to ease the awkward moment which would otherwise prosper. (I kid) But there are things which make me laugh, regardless of execution.

Asking, and then answering your own rhetorical question.

“Isn’t that always the way? No. No it is not.”
Bonus points for lengthening the answer.
“No. No it is not, in fact, I would suggest that the majority of the time, it is not that way.”

Creating fake words, intentionally mispronouncing words, colorful use of the English language.

This goes back to high school, with some of my best friends. We had a bundle of words which had unorthodox pronunciations. Also, we were potheads, so that figured in.

“See here Sirrrrrr, just past the double (doob-lay) chambered (chom-breyed) bong to the left hand side (syeede). Do not tell me that this budre (bood-ray) is cached, for I know that it lives on, if only in memory.”

I swear, if you get me in a room with Mo, Wayne, Dan, Jim and Terry, you will not understand a damned word we are saying. But you will be able to tell that we think it is hilarious, especially if there is a bong handy.

Singing Loudly, and poorly

This is generally something I reserve for myself. I don’t go walking around singing ineptly in public. But when I get home from work, if there is a song stuck in my head, (and there always is) regardless of what it is, I will bust that thing out with feeling, and poor pitch control. Something about singing “My kind of town”, in a Frank Sinatra cadence, terribly off key just puts a smile on my face. And believe me, I can sing. Sometimes, I just like to see how the other half lives.