Confusing the parentage of the promising young minds of tomorrow...today!

Much like comic strip artist Bill Watterson, I have long suspected that it must be a great temptation to misuse ones parental authority for the purpose of personal jokes. And I'm sure people do. I mean, hey, let's face it: there are parents out there who use their little ones as vessels of hatred. I've seen those Jerry Springer specials, when I was in college, featuring little white supremacist children talking about how much they hate anyone who isn't white, or for that matter, just like them.

A great man named Homer J. Simpson once noted, "Kids are the best. You can teach them to hate the things you hate." And he's right. You totally can. But I wondered recently, as I watched two little kids get off the school bus and go into their house, with a McCain-Palin sign on the lawn, what if someone manipulated the data? And by someone, I mean me.

First I would have to ask the kids if they know who G. Gordon Liddy is. Then I would tell them that they should immediately go inside and tell their parents that they heard that John McCain thinks that G. Gordon Liddy is just the awesomest, and that's because John McCain is actually Richard Nixon. (By the way, I do not actually believe John McCain is Richard Nixon. That would be like believing people and dinosaurs existed at the same time: idiotic, and against all facts.)

And when their parents ask them where they heard that, I would tell them they should say "Fox News." Or Ann Coulter. Whichever. Both.

The next step would be to do this however many times I saw a little kid near a McCain sign. Then I would be famous. And sued.

Further ganks from facebook: on zombies.

Thanks to all who have weighed in on my Resident Evil/Silent Hill question. Please keep responses and theories coming. I consider this research.

So can we talk about zombies for a second? I'm actually scared of them, or at least at what a zombie apocalypse would entail. I almost entirely blame Edgar Wright for this, since I don't remember being so concerned about it before seeing "Shaun of the Dead."

Well, Emily brought up preparation over trepidation today on twitter with this site:

http://www.uncrate.com/men/style/tees-polos/prepare-tshirts/

Notice how the ZOMBIE shirt is more expensive than the robot shirt. Why is that? It's obviously because we should be more worried about zombies than the killer robots. And I am. Much more worried. So should you be.

Says who? Says me, and also says a bunch of people here http://www.zombiesurvivalwiki.com/

I searched out this site and visited it out of curiosity. From looking through it a bit, however, I am fairly convinced that some people are quite serious about zombie emergency preparedness, and have given it a lot more thought than other matters, such as who they're going to vote for in the next presidential election. I am very unprepared by these folks' standards. I do not have a go bag prepared, nor do I own any firearms (I don't think that softair pistol counts) or even a cricket bat. I have been meaning to get one. Maybe eBay?

Many of these very prepared people are 100% certain that they could survive a zombie apocalypse, and not have a lot of trouble negotiating the challenges that go with it. I think they should think it through a little more deeply. Just using Edgar Wright's offending film as a benchmark, consider this: popping stranger-zombies, even your asshole flatmate is one thing. But what if you had to deal with your zombified mom?

At present, I do wish to state that I agree with Steven's assessment of the current zombie situation. Zombies do not exist. To that, I will add the following: That we know of! Yet!

P.S. Yes. You can get cricket bats on eBay.

Ganked offa facebook: The scariness continuum continues.

Since we're in the midst of a recession right now, I think it's as good a time as any to discuss the following scary issue: what's scarier: Silent Hill or Resident Evil? I mean conceptually.

I really, really hope people respond to this query, because I want to know what youse guys think. Partially because I don't even know what I think.

My first inclination would be to say, well, obviously, Silent Hill, because you can't even name "it," you don't know what "it" is. You just know that it can get you, and there don't seem to be a lot of rules that apply to it. It bends time-space to its will. Even if the "it" or Resident Evil is complex and scientifically advanced at least you can name it. It's the T-virus. You can study it. It has rules. It can mutate, but it can't punch holes in walls and make something from nothing and invent space that wasn't there before. It is concrete and solid. Moreover, it *does not quite possible exist entirely inside one's own mind, only to destroy one from the inside out.*

But then again, because the T-virus IS concrete and DOES have rules, such as zombies with superhuman strength and stamina, and can be proven to actually exist and not be merely a manifestation of someone's guilt or rage or whatever, it *can actually kill you* and not potentially merely drive you to the brink of insanity, or past the brink of insanity.

Further, after a long time of playing Silent Hill, I have been thankful that I was not armed, because every noise behind me made me want to pull a weapon and unload. This does not happen when I play RE.

However, I am afraid of zombies, but not the descending darkness of an ancient evil. Not so much, anyway.

Please cast your vote.

I HATE YOU! I LOVE YOU! I HATE YOU! I LOVE YOU! (and so forth)

My folks are in Remsen doing a craft show (my dad does stained glass and is brilliant at it) and so they called early this afternoon to let me know how it was going with them. Small problem: sometime between yesterday and today at noon, my cell phone ceased to work at its full capacity. For instance, suppose you were to call me and try to have a conversation with me. I can hear you, but you cannot hear me. Unless I shout, which is how I talked to my dad.

And then later, Libby, when she called to see if we were still going out later. And to give her my land line number.

Then I ran an experiment, where I put my started up "No Sugar Tonight/New Mother Nature" on iTunes, dialed my house, put my phone down on my laptop. Then I shut the door to my room and went to go answer the house phone downstairs. It was highly scientific, featured classic rock, and proved that my cell phone has been rendered crap in just over a month.

I am irritated. Now I have to go to the cell phone joint and find out what gives. I love my cell phone company, too! God, I am so pissed at them. Always something, innit?



She's gettin' us all. She's gettin us all...

...Gently down the stream...

Today I felt like shite and left work halfway through the day. While I find spending the day abed usually makes me feel a little better, it doesn't exactly do wonders towards helping my brain which I cannot turn off. Some of the stuff I think of is too bleak to repeat in any kind of company that doesn't cost me $90 per hour (rim shot) (maybe) but some of it is actually sort of interesting.

There is one entertaining thing about having a brain that won't shut off, which is that you can usually trace any one random thought's origin back to something completely unrelated. Once when I was about a junior in college, I found myself laying awake at night thinking about matadors. I wondered how I had gotten there, so (partially in an effort to bore myself to sleep) I traced the thought backward through to where the process had begun. And somehow it went back to "The Simpsons." I don't know why.

It occurs to me that even if I solved all the problems I have at this moment, like most people, I would probably just manufacture more. Like I would decide that I was too fat or too thin or that my boobs weren't big enough or something like that. See? I still have actual problems, and I'm already trying to fabricate new ones.

It occurs to me--as I've been taking in and deeply absorbing "Spaced" like grape juice or a summer breeze--that if the United States had never declared its independence from Great Britain, we would not be so entertained by British comedy. And Lara Croft wouldn't be nearly so cool.

It occurs to me that, as a woman, to play Resident Evil 3 BEFORE you play the original is to eventually be horrified by what Jill Valentine once was. (A flake.)

I really enjoy eyeliner.

Most continuums of humor or scariness are relative.

Summer ends when school starts. Whether you go back or not.

I can't believe those Kashi crackers aren't higher in fiber.

Empire apples are almost back in season.

Time whips by when you're thinking...

Oh thank god, part I. (Or, 7 things about me.)

1. I always kind of wanted to be a cheerleader. That's why it's my #1 Halloween costume!

2. I enjoy doing voices and am considered by many to be fairly good at it.

3. It's quite possible that I am incapable of turning my brain off.

4. I have attention deficit disorder. (Seriously.)

5. In college, I changed my major from psychology to English Writing, despite the fact that such a degree has no practical application, as far as I can tell.

6. I once had a job as a bartender for two weeks. I saved my tips and bought a turntable.

7. The best job I ever had was also the lowest paying, relatively speaking. (Minimum wage at the bookstore in college.)

If you read it, you're tagged, mate.

Oh dear lord, part II.

...Though I guess they'll need to be longer than one line to make any difference at all. All right. Maybe something interesting will happen to me when I go downstairs to do THIS particular load of laundry. Results to follow. Stay tuned.