It All Comes Back To The Simpsons

Thursday, March 31, 2005

"Point Out Your Plot Holes Elsewhere!"

This post will be short and lame and I guess a little outside of my particular box (good band name, particular box). Anyway,...

South Park was hilarious this week! Which greatly relieved me, because the other ones this season were...well, inconsistant, I guess. I was starting to worry. But, wow, so many issues covered so well: PSPs, Terri Schaivo, an explanation for George W's behaviour, the whole to-may-to/to-mah-to thing. And it's nice to see that they're killing Kenny again.

I enjoyed the episode so much that it pains me to point out the following flaws in the story; how on earth is Kenny able to afford a PSP? And go to an amusement park with his family? Uh...Kenny's poor...that's his thing. And why was Kenny wearing the other half of the B.F.F. necklace? Was he really B.F.F. with Cartman? How could he be? And if it wasn't one he shared with Cartman, who did the other half belong to? Kyle or Stan (I would guess Stan)? I suppose it's a cartoon, it doesn't have to make sense.

I realise I seem like a nerd, I'm not oblivious to that. Truth is I'm not...nerds are smart.....glaven. And by the way, I love South Park, too, so I'll probably be dropping more SP referrences here as this blog turns. But I figure that's OK because the two shows share a separate(scared?) bond since the "Simpsons did it!" episode. No?

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

"Take It Outside, Godboy."

When I first read the story about the Colorado Supreme Court upholding the throwing out of the death penalty for Robert Harlan because the jurors in his case had consulted the Bible, I thought, so what, why can't they? They should feel free to consult the Bible all they wanted to if they were Christians. Just like a Jew should be able to consult the Torah, or a Muslim, the Q'aran. I also wondered if the irony that you can't consult a Bible in the jury room, but you have to get sworn in on the Bible before you testify was lost on the Justices.

Then I thought about it. I suppose that's the step where many idealouges choose to stop, but I trudged bravely on. I had assumed that the jurors would be seeking wisdom or moral guidance from religious texts. At the worst, I thought, they already knew what verdict they wanted to deliver, and were just looking for a passage to justify their feelings.

However being aware, as I am, of the state that religion has slumped to in America, I began to realize my initial reaction was wrong. Most people in our society, it seems, aren't so much interested in deep introspection with difficult moral issues, as they are being told what the rules are and how they should act and think. It's so sad that the nearly universal lure of a search for meaning/purpose has been usurped by a fear of nonconformity...kind of reminds me of the role religion played in other times...you know...witch hunts...inquisitions...stuff like that.

So, after thinking about it, I come down on the side of the majority of the Justices. The way I see it, if you're a Christian and you're old enough to get jury duty, you should have had enough time to read the Bible and reflect upon core issues such as life and death, justice and punishment. And the fact is, using religion to interpret or enforce the law is called fundamentalism. I think we can all agree that there's a little too much of that these days.

Oh, and did they miss that "Thou Shalt Not Kill" part? I guess that's the great thing about the Bible; if you don't agree with something it says, keep reading, you'll find a contadiction somewhere in there.
P.S. Fuck you, nytimes.com. Burn in hell, eternally damned to try to link you site to another webpage, you bastards!

Sunday, March 27, 2005

"Self-tapping Shoes?!?...I'm Ever So Pissed!"

Once again, my original quote was just a bit too long to be the title. I've been told that they can be unweildy, if that is indeed a word. And if I did indeed spell it correctly.

So I was watching my Favorite Show today, and it was the one where Lisa goes to ballet school and discovers she is less than talented. Lisa's experience with her school and, more specifically, her teacher, reminded me of when I had a child in a dance class. This was one of those schools in a strip mall in a fairly well-to-do suburb, and was constantly packed with your run of the mill suburban moms, in overpriced clothes that are supposed to look like casual, I-don't-care-what-I'm-wearing-clothes, with all their little darlings who are just too precious to expend any discipline upon. And, I swear to God, everyone there was just too important to have to move even one inch to give you a little room to squeeze past them as you try to get out of that brat factory, and so you inevitably have to brush against them to get past, when they would invariably give you the stink-eye....beeotches!

Anyway, at this school, they spend about three months or so for each class, with each class culminating in a dance recital for all of the parents...which they had to pay to see! And, on top of that, the instructors were ladies who obviously at one time had the dream of being professionals, but, sadly, that time had long since passed. So, of course, these recitals were less for the children, and more to let everyone in the audience know what a big mistake the dancing talent scouts had made in passing them up. The children, in most cases, were pretty much obscured from the view of the audience. Oh my God, it was truly shameless.

And each recital we went to brought this 'Little Vicki' episode to mind...especially this Simpsons quote, in which Little Vicki explains to Lisa why she (Lisa) can't go out on stage, and which was supposed to be the title, but, of course, for the reason stated above, wasn't: "I'm sorry, Lisa, but people coming to see a children's dance recital expect a certain level of professionalism."

Of course, I expected a certain sad desperation, but...why argue over semantics.

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

"I Figure I'll Go For The Life Of Sin, Followed By The Presto-Changeo Deathbed Repentence."

I was listening to the BBC the other night, and both their lead stories were about the U.S. One was about the Terri Schiavo case, and the other about the school shooting in Red Lake, MN. Apparently the rest of the world just can't get enough of our bizarre antics. Oh great, we've become the friggin' Jerry Springer show over here.

I have been reluctantly been drawn in to this Terri case. All the pro-Terri websites and blogs (haven't found any anti-Terri ones) I've come across are basically all about saying what a rich and wonderful life she's living as a severely debilitated and more or less retarded vegetable (who would want to spend the rest of their life like that? I think it's basically her family is scared to let her go), and waging a smear campaign against her husband. They call him a monster, a wife-beater, and an adulterer. They're upset at him for finding a new woman that he's "shacked up with" for the past ten years. None of them seem to acknowledge the fact that Terri has been in this utterly debilitating brain damaged state for the past fifteen years. It's not like he went out the day after she vegged out and started a new family. Is this guy supposed to put his life on hold forever? Sure, this will probably hurt his chances for sainthood, but come on. Let's try not hold others to standards that we ourselves would have difficulty meeting. And I haven't found any evidence of the spousal abuse...fill me in if there is any.

They had two guests on the BBC program, one a reverend, the other a civil rights lawyer (I think) to discuss this case. Guess where each stood on the issue. Anyway, the rev started quoting bible verses to support him case, at which point the other guy brought up the issue of separation of church and state. The rev became indignant, saying, "your anti-religious bigotry is just that; bigotry!" Um...ok. I'm sorry, but I don't call it bigotry when you have the opinion that one religion's views shouldn't be held higher than the others. If you want to experience bigotry, Mr. Reverend, maybe you should leave the majority of every major demographic in this country (male, white, Christian, conservative, etc.) and try walking through life as a black Muslim woman... then we'll talk about bigotry. I happen to think that our government would be much better if we followed the wisdom in the Tao Te Ching, but I realize that's just my opinion, and not everyone else should be obligated to agree with me. Just because you are religious doesn't mean you are infallible.

All in all, this is a really tragic case. Either she lives the rest of her life in a way in which pretty much any reasonable person would declare as a way not worth living, or she dies. And she doesn't die like the way your poor old family dog dies when you put him down to ease his suffering. No, we're so freaked out about death in this country that all reason has left the debate. Instead of letting her die humanely, we have to remove her nutrition tube and let her die slowly of dehydration and starvation. So it's either live as a vegetable or a slow, suffering death...there's no middle ground here?!? Are we so retared?!? I guess this is an example of why you need a living will; so here's mine. If you can play country music by my hospital bed and I show no signs of distress, kill me. I just don't want to live that way. Seriously.

Sunday, March 20, 2005

"Ah, TV...you laugh with me, not at me."

One of my favorite sayings is, "There are no do-overs in real life" (That's directed at you Born-againers out there. I know you're out there, I can hear you rolling holy). However, I'm not too satisfied with my last posting, so I'll continue writing about television until I get it right. And now that the nyquil has worn off, I remember where I was trying to go last night. I keep coming upon these online debates about which is better: The Simpsons or The Family Guy.

I'll give your IQ the benefit of the doubt and assume you all can figure out where I stand on the subject. I remember the Halloween episode a couple of years ago; the part where Homer gets a hammock that churns out clones. At a certain point they do a slow pan across a field of scores of Homerclones, and Peter Griffin is among them....mmmmm...satire.

This arguement is similar to the Beatles vs. Rolling Stones. In both cases the fact is that if it weren't for the originators (Beatles/Simpsons), there would be no imitators. The whole question is moot. Moot...there's an interesting word.

The word moot can trace its' origin back to the ancient Egyptians. The Moots were those people who were said to be ignored by the gods. That would be, in essence, I suppose, a pretty meaningless existence. Of course we now know that the ancient Egyptians religion is utterly infantile and recockulous, as are the systems of faith of all ancient cultures. But don't worry...we've got it all figured out now, god-wise.

Our God is great, omniscient, seemingly everywhere, emitting a warming glow, with little buttons on front so you can control the volume. He giveth, and He taketh away (Futurama, for example). But He is also a vengeful God (reality TV, for example), but not a God without mercy (two Simpsons on tonight!). Ok, this analogy is beginning to get a little gay, and I'm certainly not out to offend anyone (not with this paragraph, at least).

By the way, an interesting thing to do on any given Sunday morning is to tune into any given televangelist, turn the volume all the way down, and turn on some old school rap (I'd recommend NWA or PE). It's a good alternative to going to church for all you uptight godboys. I really think you can judge the worth of a religion by the sense of humor among its' faithful. God wants you to be happy; spend some time with your friends and/or family, clean up some litter, help someone who is worse off than you are. You might just feel good enough about yourself that you won't feel the need to vent your repressed unhappiness on those in society who have it hard enough already. God is love...maybe you should think about that....really think about it. Because, as the good book says, "really think about it". Oh, and there's something in there about a unicorn named Gary or something.

Saturday, March 19, 2005

"Damn TV, it ruined my imagination as well as my ability to...um...uh..."

At last, my first comment! Someone is paying attention out there...and they didn't even tear me a new one. At least one person agrees with me...now I know how Jeebus must feel.

Ever have one of those days where everything just goes right? Yeah, me neither. But, as you know if you have bothered to read this far, I got my first comment! Thank you so much! Shout out to landofthefreehomeofthebrave.org (see link in comments section). I can't figure out how to put links into my text..the pitfalls of using a mac. Mac users are the queers of the computing world. We're here, we think Bill Gates is a weenie, get used to it.

One problem with blogs inspired by a TV show is that they are constructed by people who probably watch too much TV. In fact, I'm watching TV right now...bad idea. This is how far I got after about two hours (although I have deleted about three times as much crap as I've left in). My ...this is how bad it is...that first word "my"..that was the first word of a sentence that was going somewhere, now lost, perhaps forever. But TV gives so much and asks so little in return. The cold medicine I took earlier probably isn't helping too much either.

I just read over this entry and it looks like someone on drugs composed it. Oh well, I think I'll pack it in for tonight. I'm off to a blissful evening of half-completed thoughts and semi-formed visions of...uh...hmm...never mind. Let this be a lesson on the dangers of television, as well as a lesson on how to blame inanimate objects that can't defend themselves for all your prooblems, even poor spelling.

P.S. TV...all is forgiven. I can't stay mad at you.

Friday, March 18, 2005

"You know me, Marge...I like my beer cold, my TV loud, and homosexuals fah-laming!"

So much of the past few weeks have been devoted to Marge's sisters....the gruesome twosome (how is twosome spelled, anyway?). Patty wanted a gay marriage and Selma, a usually single hetero, wanted to adopt a child. In so many ways, this twosome is outside the mainstream idea of "family values". But "family values" is a retarded concept; let me explain.

So much of the progress in the world has been accomplished through behavior that would go against the current concept of family values. Breaking the law is certainly not a family value, but it is hard to believe the world would be a better place without the likes of Ghandi, or his protege, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., a man with more periods in his name than perhaps anyone, and their lessons of civil disobedience
Socrates went against the 'family values' of his day, but is now pretty much universally regarded as a brilliant man, teaching that the unexamined life (which so many people are right now in the middle of) is not one worth living.
That woman whose name I can't remember who lead the women's suffrage movement in America...hold on...it'll come to me...damnit, she's on a coin or something...oh well, I just chalk this up to an indictment of our lackluster educational system. I'll probably remember it tonight as I'm drifting off to sleep... Ok, I cheated and went on google...Susan B. Anthony.
Ben Franklin, Founding Father, sage, inventor, Postmaster, and....oh, yeah...hella-fornicater. I could go on, but I grow bored...

As for the proponants of "family values", allow me to drop one morsel of wisdom on you...nothing you can do, nothing you can say, no law you can write, no amount of self-righteous nagging will change anyone...ever. Not in any fundamental way. That change has to be the result of a metamorphosis inside the one who is changed. Your only real shot is to lead by example. If you want people to have good family values, don't be a dick to your family or act like a dick in front of them. You born-agains are the real raspberry seed stuck in my molars. You seem to think that by being born again you no longer have to work on yourself so you focus to an insane amount on what you THINK is wrong with other people. You don't get "do-overs" in the real world. So maybe you messed things up in your past, just get over it and try to be a decent person (fyi, decent people don't hurl insults at others, or put up barriers to others leading a happy life just because they don't agree with their viewpoint).

Back to the Simpsons (because it all comes back to the Simpsons). So Patty's gay, so what? So everybody has to come to the defense of Marriage. First of all, one longstanding 'reason' for hating gays is because they were said to be too promiscuous, that they all just ran around screwing each other and couldn't have lasting relationships. Now here they are, trying to show that they can, but now people won't let them. And if we are so concerned about 'defending marriage', why are Britney Spears and Liz Taylor still free? Why is the Anglican Church so worked up about 'defending marriage' when its' only reason for existing was to allow for a divorce?

As for Selma being a single mother...well, who could really support that? But the fact is, a huge percentage of kids are raised by only one parent, including myself, and most of us turn out just as screwed up as the rest of you.

So I guess what I'm saying is this: it is NOT your job to protect everyone from themselves. Keep your eyes on the prize; yourself and those close to you. If you're against abortion, fine, don't have one. Counsel and advise any friends or family thinking of getting an abortion not to, show them another alternative (in England is it an 'abourtion'?) Think alcohol is evil? Then make sure your kids don't get a hold of any, make sure they don't hang out w/ kids who drink. Think a TV show is offensive? Then turn the goddamn channel, you f%#*%@@! moron! The rest of us find it hilarious. The only offensive thing is your total lack of humor and sense of perspective.

Which brings us to another Simpsons Quote: "I guess you can't use the law to nag...which is a shame because I really hate that cartoon." (ok, that's actually two Marge quotes morphed into one, but it's not like anyone is reading this blog anyway. My morphed quote supports my arguement better too, and isn't that, in the end, the real truth? The answer, of course, is no.)

Tuesday, March 15, 2005

"...Where My Soul Will Be Chopped Into Confetti And Strewn Upon A Parade Of Murderers And Single Mothers..."

My actual quote I was going to use is from a naive young Milhouse (nothin' beats the 'house!) upset at Bart's suggestion that the soul isn't real, that it's just something the church made up: "Why would they lie?" he demanded, "What would they have to gain?"

"Ching, ching!" exclaims the good Rev. Lovejoy in the next frame. This whole excerpt popped into my head recently while I was describing to someone my recent dealings with the 700 Club. No, no; I'm not one of those people...you see...well...it's a long story.

It all begins with me flipping through the channels one day. When I go past abc family channel, I think I see that godboy Pat Robertson, and I switch back to see what he has to say, because I am evidently some sort of sadomasocist.

So he's having some sort of pledge drive and while he's talking about how nobody knows Jesus like he knows Jesus (sidebar: If Jesus really digs Pat, how great a diety could He be, anyway?), along the bottom of the screen they are scrolling the names of people who have given money and how much they've given. And then I just snapped. Some fuse in my head blew and I felt compelled to make a prank phone call for the first time in probably over 15-20 years. The transcript follows:

Melissa: "Thank you for calling the 700 Club, this is Melissa, how much would you like to donate today?" --(I think I'll start answering my home phone with a solitation for donations)

Sideshow Bob: "Before we get to that, I have a question: Will my name be shown on tv after I donate?"

M: "No." --(crap...there goes the whole premis of the prank call!)

SB: "Oh...'cause I see the names of people scrolling across the screen right below Pat Robertson..."

M: "Hold on, let me check..."[long pause] "Oh, yes, your name should show up on the screen." --( now, obviously, she checked with her supervisor, who told her to say whatever she thought would close the deal...how stupid do they think I am?!?... oh, wait, I suppose they do think I'm actually trying to give money to Pat Robertson)

SB: "I'd like to pledge $50...and you're sure my name will be on the tv?"

M: "It should."
(OH boy, here comes the big payoff!)
SB: "Great, because I want to makle sure that everyone knows what a foolish retard I am!"

And then I hung up the phone. It didn't go nearly as well and wasn't nearly as funny as I had envisioned it, but it was still a bit of fun, and that was that...or so I thought.

Barely 48 hours had passed, and what did I find in the mailbox??? Two, count 'em, two letters from the 700 Club. Both with an inspirational picture of Jesus performing miracles and offering true happiness. Both wanting money. They must have caller id! Pat Robertson, you magnificent bastard!

Over the next few weeks I got more solicitations, more inspirational reading material (w/ accompanying solicitations) and even a dvd (with a request for a donation). What was it Jesus said, "beware of those who claim to speak for me?" Something like that.

Saturday, March 12, 2005

"Shoplifting Is A Victimless Crime...Like Punching Someone In The Dark."

Speaking of shoplifting...the phrase 'shoplifting' can be traced back to ancient Babylonia, when theives would actually lift up the corners of shopowner's huts to steal the sweet, sweet olives within. Oh, Zehecahuraharmesh...will you ever learn?

Anyways, back in our salad days(when we were poor), my hot wife and I were shopping at one of those big box stores; I think it was Wal*Mart. It was a fairly cool day in fall, and she found a nice coat she wanted to buy, so she threw it in our overflowing cart. When we got to the checkout line, my hot wife put the coat on the conveyor belt along with all our other junk and we waited as the clerk scanned all our items. When the clerk got to the coat, she didn't scan it, but handed it to my hot wife (did I mention she's hot?). My hot wife says, "No, this isn't mine," handing it back to the clerk. Then the clerk gives it right back, saying, "No, you should put this on, it's cold out."
This dance continues for another round or two, until finally I nudge my hot wife, signaling her to hush up. Then we pay for all of the items that were rung up and get the hell out of there. I have a rule: if you try to give someone money three times and the refuse to take it, then you've done your part and you owe them nothing. I'm not going to stand there all day trying to give out money that I could use for something else. But hey, maybe that's just me.

This same hot wife of mine has an interesting habit. She punches me...hard...in the dark. I'll be laying there fast asleep, dreaming any manner of blissful things, and out of nowhere I awake to a punch in the nose. That shit hurts! The other night she came up just as I was in a kind of inbetween state of asleep and awake when she plops down in bed and says, "You know I hate it when you go to bed without saying goodnight," followed nearly instantaneously with a sharp jab to the kidney. She said she was just trying to put her arm around me...but I got the message. Besides, what can I do? It's a victimless crime, after all.

Sunday, March 06, 2005

"Ball Is In...Parking Lot...Would You Like To Play...Again?"

Ahhh...How wonderful it is to shrug off the shackles of oppression that is the dank, urine-soaked hellhole that is my day job. I am currently blissfully in the middle of a 3 week lay-off from my industrial type job. That being the case, I have had much more free time on my hands. Time for a few minor home improvements and, oh yes, to play some video games.

I recently purchased Tiger Woods 2005, and it is entirely addictive, and it only takes about half an hour to get in 18 holes. It is entirely superior to real golf in every way. It's quicker, never crowded, the people are much more attractive, far less expensive, just way better. In fact, you get to design your own persona to golf with. So, I am a hot girl named Endless J.

My friend, who also has the game, also designated himself to be a girl, asked if it was gay for two hetero guys such as ourselves to choose girls to represent us instead of guys, and to be discussing what skirts, shoes and hairstyles we currently have. Well, mabe the later part is a wee bit fruitty, but I would much rather spend the hours I while away playing this game looking at an attractive female than some dude.

Anyway, as I'm playing this addictive video game, I'm reminded of a Simpsons where Comic Book Guy is having trouble unloading the 'Lee Carvalo's Putting Challenge' video game, the inference being that a golf video game is totally lame. So I guess that makes me a big lame. But I don't care, and that's what makes me cool...right?

The episode I referrenced earlier ended with the Simpsons Quote of the Day..."Ball is in...parking lot...would you like to play...again?" (almost imperceptible pause) "You have selected...no."

Bob out!

Saturday, March 05, 2005

"(Dismissive sigh)..All The Best Bands Are Affiliated With Satan."

I recently had some knowledge dropped on me...if you want people to be interested in your blog, you must post as often as possible. This is my second in three days, which for me would be considered a brisk pace. So huzzah for me.

Speaking of the word 'huzzah', I heard an interesting story of its' origin yesterday. Apparently, it is a Germanic bastarization of two hebrew words (I didn't hear which two words), one meaning "we are on the road to paradise" and the other meaning "death to the infidels". The word "hip" was a word that was called out by friendly visitors when they came into town in the germanic territories.

Now, the phrase "hip, hip, hooray" came from "hip, hip, huzzah", which is a phrase dated back to the 18th century that certain tribes of Germans called out as they came into hebrew towns for the express purpose of wiping them off the face of the earth. So mull that over the next time you hear the phrase "hip, hip, hooray." It will make even the lamest party a bit less boring...and if you are at a party where the phrase "hip, hip, hooray" is bantied about, trust me, it's probably lame (is 'bantied' a word?)

And all this talk of religious intolerance reminds me that I just heard the other day about Head from Korn leaving the group to pursue a religious path. Apparently, he has been catching a lot of criticism over his decision. The DJ reporting the story said, "Hey, come on, lay off the poor guy. I mean, come on, can't a guy rock and love the lord?" Which brings us to the Simpson Quote of the Day: "(Dismissive sigh)...all the best bands are affiliated with Satan."

Thursday, March 03, 2005

If something is hard to do, it's not worth doing

It is a wonder that this blog came to fruition, as the first time I tried to create it I was unable to. For some reason the Blogger home page didn't display the orange "create new blog now" arrow. I don't know if this is due to the fact I was using a mac instead of a pc, or perhaps I have a computer that feels that it is a pc trapped in the body of a mac, and I was just dealing with a teensy bit of the baggage that a conflict like that is bound to present. Fortunately, my wife goes both ways, in a computer-ish sort of way, so I started it up on her pc, and am now able to do my remaining junk on my mac. Anyone else have this problem, or is it the identity crisis thing?

I started this blog to prove a thesis...that every situation, no matter how serious or inane or whatever else, can all be brought back to a susinct focus with a quote or visual scene from the Only Meaningful Thing Fox Has Ever Done. My head was buzzing with ideas like bees in a muffler as I envisioned this blog, but now the promise of it all seems to be receeding rapidly. But I'll just push onward and take comfort in the fact that millions of people put their basically retarded views on life on display for all to see in their blogs, and now I am one of those people.

And so I'll conclude this post with a little thing I'll call "The Simpsons Quote of the Day" (which will no doubt rapidly devolve into Quote of the Week or Month. But I promise I'll do my best to make sure it doesn't get past Quote of the Fortnight). So, here goes:
"If something is hard to do, it's not worth doing."

For more information on the episode of origin for this quote, send $1 to:
Happy Dude
742 Evergreen Terr.
Springfield, blahblahblah