Sunday, December 28, 2008

The History of New Year's Eve

A new year is coming up in a matter of days, and I feel it is my duty to inform the masses as to the real meaning behind the reason for celebrating the New Year on New Year's Eve.
A long, long time ago when there wasn't even any Hollywood, an evil prince named New Year ruled a small fiefdom in the Holy Roman Empire which was comprised of sheep herders, cattle rustlers, horse wranglers, mule skinners, and mathematicians.

Prince New Year was evil in the normal sense. He would pick up rocks and throw them at the cattle to make them stampede; when a horse wrangler needed help, he'd offer to hold the rope and then let it "slip" through his fingers; when the mathematicians postulated on the best equations to define the shapes of non-euclidean objects, he'd come up behind them and "bestow" them with atomic wedgies. In short, Prince New Year was an asshole.

But the worst was that he engaged the lowly herders, rustlers, wranglers, skinners, and mathematicians in close quarters conversation about the weather, his pustules, and the annual wrangling festival. This was not bad in itself, but the prince had very bad halitosis. And the prince knew that he had halitosis, but he didn't take any effort to do anything about it. And so it became a kind of game for the prince to see who could bear his tonsil vapors from Hell's bowels without vomiting.

But despite all of Prince New Year's shortcomings, he did a very good job of defending the castle. The only trouble is that the herders, rustlers, wranglers, skinners, and mathematicians didn't actually live inside the castle, and so when invaders would ride in to steal the sheep and trample the mathematicians' rose garden, Prince New Year could be seen on the parapet shouting to some poor shmuck who was trying to outrun a hairy man with a very large sword: "Hey! Don't run down there, I think I see some more of the enemy! Run in a zigzag fashion! There you go! No don't go that way! NO DON'T...ooooh just shake it off. You don't need that much intestine anyway...OH GEEZ! I didn't think he was going to do THAT to you! Don't worry, I'll get you a soprano part in the wrangling festival choir!"

And after each raid, the fiefdom would slowly rebuild itself, calm the sheep, and the mathematicians would study ways to build defenses. Prince New Year would usually make the rounds of all the herders, wranglers, rustlers, skinners, and mathematicians and complain that he would've let them all in had his gate guard not been asleep and thus unable toraise the portcullis. "Next time!" he'd cry, and flash a mossy-toothed smile.

If it weren't for the lavish wrangling festival that Prince New Year held once every 365 days, the townspeople would have deposed the prince a long time ago. And so life continued, with plenty of herding, wrangling, rustling, skinning, and mathematicianing to go around. And soon enough, the raids became less frequent due to the mathematicians throwing non-euclidean shaped objects at the invaders which would make them stop and say, "Now, how in the HELL did he make that?!" giving the skinners enough time to cull the invaders.

But one fateful day while Prince New Year was kissing some mule skinner's babies (which began spitting up milk), a thought suddenly came to the prince. "I've been the sole owner of my fief long enough. I should like to share it with a pretty wife who's a wild sheep in the bed, and who will bear bare children." And so with the thought inseminated in the prince's head, he dropped the baby and ran off to the castle.

Upon reaching the castle's parapet, Prince New Year looked far and wide for a fair maid. He saw several of the herders' daughters, but they were hale and hardy, and might be more inclined to whap him upside the head if he so much as sneezed in their direction. The rustlers' daughters were buxom but their heads were filled with ideas of utopian society and equality. "Hmph!" the prince snorted, "nonsense!" Over to the east he saw the wranglers' daughters. Now there was a sight. A few of them were attempting to stand upon horses at a full trot, with other daughters standing on their shoulders, so as to make a large pyramid shape. "Looks dangerous, frivilous, and fun. Definitely not my type," mused the prince. And so with a heavy sigh, he turned his bleary eyes to the small spot in his fief that had large non-euclidean statues and stout towers as an encampment. "Let me see what the eggheads have to offer," thought the prince. At first he saw girls far too young to marry, until he saw the prettiest woman that he had seen in his entire life. Her name was Eve and she was scratching her legs, but that didn't detract any from her beauty, since many beautiful people itch just like you and me.

Prince New Year ran down from his castle and entered the mathematicians' encampment and saw Eve standing there, drinking from the well. She saw him, he saw her, he smiled, she surpressed her gag reflex and said, "Good day, m'lord, is there anything you wish of me?" "Why yes, fair lady, what is your name?" "Eve, sir, is there anything I can do for you?" "Why, yes, I want to marry you, so that you will bear my children and share this fief with me! What say you to that?" "I'm afraid I am already to be married to the young apprentice mathematician Gregory Calender." "Oh, fiddlesticks! He'll understand!"

And with that, Prince New Year grabbed Eve by her arm and dragged her to his castle, all while whispering sweet nothings (and a few raunchy nothings) in her ear, while poor Eve held her breath. Prince New Year had garlic and kippers for breakfast that morning, so he had bad breath on top of his halitosis, and his description of married life was not appealling to Eve: "...And then when you've finished scrubbing my feet, I'll let you trim my back hair. Aha! Here we are, my little flea! This is your room for tonight, though mine is down the hall in case you get lonely during the night. Tomorrow, you shall be New Year's Eve!"

Eve sat down on the edge of her bed and inhaled the air that was no longer polluted by Prince New Year's garlicked, kippered halitosis. And then, she cried since she didn't know what to do and she didn't relish the thought of having to live with Prince New Year for the rest of her life. "Am I really going to wake up every morning and roll over to see him there, grinning, blowing rotten-fish smelling kisses in my face? Oh god, what if he sleeps nude?" and with that thought, Eve lost her lunch.

Now, Eve's departure had not gone unnoticed in the fiefdom. You see, Eve was not only the prettiest girl in the land, but she was also the kindest and smartest. Everyone was happy to see her, and everyone was glad that she was to be married to the apprentice mathematician Gregory Calender who was equally handsome, smart, and kind. Everyone knew the two would be very happy together, and so when Prince New Year took off with Eve, a young mathematician who happened to be taking a break from her lessons witnessed the entire thing and began telling the news to everyone. Soon the entire fiefdom knew, except for Gregory Calender. He had been busy attempting to build a non-euclidean stone house for him and his soon-to-be-wife Eve, but some of his equations were off, and the house kept collapsing. When the herders, rustlers, wranglers, skinners and other mathematicians came to him and told the news, he clenched his fists in rage and spoke: "How long have we put up with that asshole?! How long has he yelled out crap advice for us when we get raided?! How long has he talked our ears off while spewing his breath in our faces that smells of Satan's flatulence? And he knows his breath stinks! Sure the wrangling festival is good, but it's not that great! Wouldn't we be better off without him, and with a leader we elect who makes decisions that are good for us to live together in harmony and economic stability? I say we meet here tonight, and get rid of New Year once and for all!"

Gregory Calender went to work at once, scouring the recesses of his brain's sulci for an equation that would put an end to Prince New Year. "I'll be damned if Eve becomes New Year's!" Gregory muttered, as he worked on and on. Finally he was able to derive an equation for a non-euclidean object that was so intense, so mind-shattering, so alien, that it would drive the viewer insane. Gregory made the object and covered it with a cloth, vowing to destroy the object and its equation when he was finished. Gregory knew that it was too much power to entrust the equation to one man, and too dangerous to entrust it to many, and so it would be better for the world if the weapon was properly disposed of after its purpose was fulfilled.

And so the herders, wranglers, rustlers, skinners, and mathematicians marched to the castle with Gregory Calender at the lead. When they got to the front of the castle, they saw the portcullis was down. Apparently the guard was still asleep. They huddled together and used the best of their brains and talents to figure out how to get Gregory over the portcullis and into the castle. "We know!" cried the hale and hardy herders' daughters. "We will throw him up in the air!" "And he will land on our shoulders as we make our pyramid!" yelled the wranglers' daughtgers. "But he will bounce off our big bosoms and land into the courtyard," said the rustlers' daughters.

Gregory thought it over, and it seemed to be a sound plan. He'd seen how strong the herders' daughters were, he'd seen how agile the wranglers' daughters were as acrobats. He knew how large the breasts of the rustlers' daughters were (after all, the rustlers' daughters would help fend off attacks by using their breasts as weapons to knock the invaders senseless). "Alright, I have the non-euclidean statue, and I have a heart full of passion for my Eve. Let's do this!"

Gregory ran at full speed to the hale and hardy daughters, who threw him up on the shoulders of the agile acrobatic daughters who dropped him onto the large buxom daughters' breasts, where he bounced off them with a "boing!" and landed safely into the courtyard!

The crowd went wild! But Gregory had no time for applause. He dashed up the stairs and into Prince New Year's chambers, throwing the non-euclidean statue. "Behold thine eyes and go into madness!" Prince New Year was busy scratching himself, but when he heard those words, he looked up, hand still busy, and saw a statue of indefineable geometry and design hurtling at him. As he thought to himself, "Now how in the HELL did he make that?!" his brain's dendrites sparked and burned out, leaving the prince in a state of insanity. Gregory then dashed the statue against the floor, its purpose fulfilled. He crept into Eve's room who threw her arms around him and smooched up a storm. The next day they wed, which was also the day upon the wrangling festival was held. The herders, rustlers, wranglers, skinners, and mathematicians all agreed that with the Prince New Year no longer serving as ruler of the fiefdom, that Gregory Calender should be the new ruler. So they voted, and it was unanimously in favor of young Gregory.

All the townspeople thought that due to the events, the day should be marked as a holiday. But they had no way to measure time effectively. Seasons came and went, but there was no real way to tell when they happened. Gregory put his mind to this, and came up with an idea. "I know," he said, "we'll have a day measured as the amount of time it takes the earth to complete one revolution, and we'll have 365 of these days measure into one unit. The unit will be called Sackelty." And upon this, someone snickered and said, "We should call it a Year, and the day after the last day, New Year's Day since he was deposed as a ruler!" The crowd guffawed and agreed that the unit of 365 days would be called a year, and the first day of the new year would be called New Year's Day. Eventually the last day of the year was referred to as New Year's Eve as a remembrance to how close the pretty Eve was to marrying the stinky Prince New Year. Originally New Year's Eve was a somber celebration, but as the story got to be more well known, people knew the ending and forwent the somberness and gravity of New Year's Eve, and just went ahead and had a good time then.

And so from this small fiefdom of herders, wranglers, rustlers, skinners, and mathematicians, two new holidays were born along with a new system to predict the dates of the seasons. And to this day we honor the brave young man who stood up to Prince New Year by calling his system of measuring years and seasons the Gregorian Calender.

Deep Thoughts

I've always wondered about that saying, "A stroke of luck," because it seems to me that if you have a stroke, you're really not lucky.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

The Airing of Grievances

Alright, the time of this festive Festivus is drawing to a close and the airing of grievances is due. First of all, I'd like to tell the economy, YOU HAVE DISAPPOINTED ME SO MUCH! Sure, I didn't expect to have a high paying job right of college, but I didn't plan on the only jobs bein available were the ones that require you to wear a hairnet and uniform. It would have been nice to have worked as a temp for a biotech lab or company before I went into the Navy. NOT ANYMORE!

Epic Metal Songs of the 90's

Here we go again. Epic Metal Songs of the 1990's

Damn Yankees "High Enough"
Alice in Chains "Them Bones"
Megadeth "Hanger 18"
Megadeth "Take No Prisoners"
Megadeth "Holy Wars"
Metallica "Enter Sandman"
Racer X "Fire of Rock"
Race X "Technical Difficulties"
Eric Johnson "Cliffs of Dover"
Steve Vai "Bad Horsie"
Bush "Machinehead"
Vinnie Moore "Meltdown"

Sultriest Songs of the 90's

I'm on a 90's kick. Can you tell?

Sultriest songs of the 90's that are guaranteed to make you feel dirty:

  1. Warrant "Cherry Pie"
  2. Divinyls "I Touch Myself"
  3. Garbage "#1 Crush"
  4. Garbage "I Think I'm Paranoid"
  5. Nine Inch Nails "Closer"
  6. Merril Bainbridge "Mouth"
  7. Billy Idol "Cradle of Love"
  8. Bush "Little Things"
  9. Dave Matthews Band "Crash"
  10. Stone Temple Pilots "Sex Type Thing"
  11. Harvey Danger "Flagpole Sitta"
  12. Busta Rhymes "What's it Gonna Be?!"
  13. Cathy Dennis "Touch Me (All Night Long)"
  14. Third Eye Blind "Semi-Charmed Kind of Life"
  15. Jewel "Who Will Save Your Soul?"
  16. Savage Garden "I Want You"
  17. Sugar Ray "Every Morning"
  18. Lou Bega (featuring Perez Prado) "Mambo #5"
  19. Alannah Myles "Black Velvet"
  20. Sir Mix-A-Lot "Baby Got Back"
  21. Alanis Morisette "You Oughta Know"

Monday, December 22, 2008

The Worst Songs of the 90's that You Would Hear in Hell

The funny thing about listening to the radio is the songs that are continuously played, day in and day out. 1000 years from now, if archaeologists dug up a radio station's selection of songs from the classic rock era, one would turn to the other and say, "By God, Johnson! These primitive people only created about 50 songs during this 10 year period!" And honestly, this is true of stations that play Oldies, Classic Rock, and 80's pop music. The same stacks of wax get played over and over in some twisted deja vu sequence so that you can tell the time and day just by the song being played on the radio.

But there is something to this. Most of the stupid songs of these eras have been weeded out and ignored because they were stupid, and thus not played. Unfortunately there are some real gems out there that never were played by mainstream radio (Cacophony, Racer X, Oingo Boingo, et al), and are being "rediscovered" by guitarists and musicians in search of good music.

But enough about that. There are songs out there, lurking in the corner, waiting for innocent victims to pass by, and then they strike the listener's ear drums with a barrage of silly lyrics, idiotic melodies, and even worse music videos. But let's put some names to these songs.

Billy Ray Cyrus "Achy Breaky Heart"
The Man in Denim released this Achy Breaky Oooh What a Mistake-y.

Venga Boys "We Like to Party"

"Venga" is Spanish. It's actually the formal command of the verb venir which means "to come." Which is pretty gross if you ask me. And the song sounds like calliope music.

Backstreet Boys "Backstreet's Back"

Hanson "Mmmbop"

Terrible, terrible song.

Color Me Badd "Sex You Up"
Ddespite this song, all 4 members remainedd virgins to this dday.

Gerardo "Rico Suave"
"My only addiction has to do with the female species, I eat them raw like sushi."
Probably the most cringe-worthy lyrics.

Ace of Base "All That She Wants"

Reel 2 Real "I Like to Move it"
"Move it" is said 31 times, and the rest of the song is filled with pure Caribbean jibberish.

Eiffel 65 "Blue"
My Catholic middle school's talent show had 8 different groups sing this song. Everyone attending got tired of hearing this dumb song.

Aqua "Barbiegirl"
Such a strange, strange techno band.

Eminem "Slim Shady"

There was a time when rap was good and actually stood for things like money, women, problems, and community service. And Dammit! Eminem had to come along and ruin it!

Spice Girls "Wannabe"

Blur "Song 2"
Remember, if you suck at playing guitar, just turn up your amp's volume.

Bloodhound Gang "The Bad Touch"

There's actually a decent bass riff in the song, but any song with "love, the kind you clean up with a mop and bucket" is a song for pervs.

Bush "Glycerine"
Great band, but this song is awful. I can totally imagine the sound engineer: "Dammit, Gavin! I can understand what you're singing! Mumble your words more for chrissake!"

Pearl Jam "Yellow Ledbetter"

"Hey Eddie, what are you writing?"
"HeeEEEeeyuH! Hit's this awwwAAAHsum son' 'bout nawthin' NOOO one HUHN cahn understand flannel flannel long hair long hair HAH YEAH!"

Alanis Morrisette "Ironic"

Korn "Freak on a Leash"
Asking how angsty this song tries to be is like asking how many fools can Mr. T pity.

The Cranberries "Zombie"
The Cranberries had such a great song with "Linger" and then they put out this song to highlight the singer's ability to sound like a bonobo mating Satan ("ZaHAMBAY ZaHAMBAY AY AY AY AY! OH OH OH OH OH!").

Blink 182 "What's my Age Again"
Their song's video was well-known for all of the band's shortcomings.

Sisqo "The Thong Song"
"She had dumps like a truck, truck, truck. Thighs like what, what, what. Lemme see your butt, butt, butt. Now let me sing it again!"

Crazy Town "Butterfly"

Chumbawumba "Tubthumping"

Los Del Rio "Macarena"
The 60's had The Twist, the 70's had disco, the 80's had the Moonwalk, and my generation had the freaking Macarena.

LFO "Summer Girls"

This song or its lameass equivalent is required to be played at every frat party so that all the guys can pop their polo shirt collars and talk about "back in the days."

Limp Bizkit "Nookie"
Thizz songg rellie bloze.

The Lady of Rage "Afro Puffs"
Never before have afro puffs inspired an angry women to be so vitriolic.

And there you have it. The soundtrack of hell. Let me know of any other awful songs in the comments section.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Prose Songs from the 90's

Songs that rhyme suck.

It's a bold statement, and a half truth because there are plenty of songs I like that do happen to have words in it that rhyme. But still, when was the last time you actually heard a song that didn't rhyme and was in prose and still sounded lyrical? It always seems like songs that rhyme are forced to complete the rhyme scheme and verse, which usually stretches songwriters' lyrics capabilities to the extreme so that one stupid word will rhyme with the previous line's word, and still make sense without decreasing your intelligence when you listen to it. I've always thought Donald Fagen does a good job of writing lyrics without them sounding forced, gimmicky, or like a stream-of-consciousness deal.
But there are god-awful auditory abominations that you like, but you openly admit the song is plain idiotic by its lyrics. Jimmy's Chicken Shack "Do Right" is a pretty good example of words put together to create a song that's saved only by the repetitive and monotonous chorus. But Marcy Playground's "Sex and Candy" is the perfect example of terrible song that makes no sense with its infantile rhyme scheme.
But there is one song that's even WORSE.
Black Eye Peas' "My Hump." "My hump, my hump my hump my hump my hump my hump my hump, my lovely lady lumps." According to Will Ferrell, "No one knows what it means, but it's provocative!"

I've only heard a few, but they always jut out in my mind, and I'm trying to find out if there are more songs out there like this from the 80's and 90's. So far I have:
Days of the New "The Down Town"
Temple of the Dog "Hunger Strike"
Better than Ezra "In the Blood"
Tonic "If You Could Only See"
Suzanne Vega "Tom's Diner"
Spacehog "In the Meantime" (it barely rhymes)
Nirvana "Man Who Sold the World"
Collective Soul "Listen"
Counting Crows "Mr. Jones"
John Cougar Mellencamp "Key West Intermezzo"
Paula Cole "Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?"
Everclear "I Will Buy You a New Life"
Del Amitria "Roll to Me"
Fuel "Shimmer"
Pearl Jam "Evenflow"
Pearl Jam "Jeremy"
Beck "New Pollution"
Smashing Pumpkins "Tonight, Tonight"
Soundgarden "Blackhole Sun" (Nonsensical song)
Stone Temple Pilots "Plush"
Cake "Sheep Go to Heaven"
Crash Test Dummies "Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm
Crystal Waters "Gypsy Woman"
Green Day "Brain Stew"
INXS "New Sensation"
Jane's Addiction "Jane Says"
Korn "Got the Life"
Megadeth "Mechanix"
Oingo Boingo "Same Man I Was Before"
Oingo Boingo "Out of Control"
Oingo Boingo "Wild Sex (In the Working Class)"

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Teavana business practices

I already posted my experiences with Teavana's saleswomen trying to sell me stale, over-priced tea, while I deftly ignored them and searched for the tea I wanted. Well, here's an employee describing what it's like to actually work for them. Whatever happened to honesty, or is it buried somewhere in a bottle behind the snake oil?

Monday, December 15, 2008

The Ultimate Irony

Anti-Kidnapping expert kidnapped in Mexico

O, sweet irony!

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Simple Pleasures

I haven't had any tea today, so this afternoon I was itching for something hot and wet (that's what she said), and decided that I didn't want any sheng pu'er, or the two bricks of shu that I have. I have two tuochas of sheng that I haven't cracked open yet, and Lord knows what I'm waiting for, but I'll get around to opening them once I make a dent in Xiaguan Bao Yan. So pu'er was definitely ruled out, and I selected Teavana's lung ching in my unglazed yixing cup.

I keep expecting the taste of the tea to change. And it did. Whether it was the yixing absorbing some of the flavors or the tea getting old and stale, I didn't find the harsh vegetal taste that I'd noted before. The tea was by no means great, and I still feel I paid $10 too much for it, but it was drinkable. Certainly a nice change of pace from the pu'er.

Tonight when my tea-tooth was flaring up with a serious case of Immediaticus satisfactionus requiredum, I reached for my tin of Twining's Darjeeling Broken Orange Pekoe, and thought to myself, "When it comes down to it, I wouldn't mind drinking this everyday." With this tea I really think the yixing cup took off. With the cup swollen from broken tea leaves of a mottled green, black, and rust red, I was unable to get a bitter tea even though I didn't pay attention to steeping times. And though the tea wasn't fresh or complex, it was simple and satisfying.

Currently I've got clean water in my yixing teapot to get rid of the lingering clay smell and taste. It's tapered off since I first got it and began using it, but it's very noticeable in the later infusions, marring the delicate tastes of the sheng pu'er.

Tomorrow I'll try uploading some more of my tasting notes for sheng pu'ers since I've had time to sit and taste them, and since my bags of sheng are airing out, I think tomorrow will be a Chawang 2006 Yunnan Silver day.

Friday, December 12, 2008


Last night I had a dream that I was interviewing a composer for a semi-famous situational comedy on television. And in his promo picture he was wearing a tuxedo with three hoodies with hoods up, pulled back on his right side to reveal his pierced ear. The interview went well except he refused to call me by my name.
I miss the good ol' days when I only had nonsensical dreams about childhood games, Mayan rituals, and killer deer.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Ponzi Schemes

CNN has an interesting article about a former chairman of the NASDAQ operating a multibillion Ponzi scam. I always find this kind of stuff interesting as to how people are able to successfully dupe investors or to see if someone has created a new way of scamming people.

Ponzi schemes are pretty simple: a scammer goes to investors and promises higher returns in a shorter amount of time compared to other types of investments.
The investor puts up the money, and the scammer takes the money and goes to other investors, makes the same promise, and receives more money. The scammer turns around and pays off the original investor, making good on the scammer's promise for a return in a short time period. Then, the scammer offers a higher return if the investor leaves his/her money in for a longer amount of time. The investor invests more money, and the scammer takes the larger amount of money and pays off the second set of investors, tells them the same thing told to the first investor, and the scheme goes back and forth. Either the scammer runs out of money to pay the investors, and they investigate the scammer and discover the scam, or the scammer will be able to pay out the majority of his investors, leave a few investors with diminshed returns, but not before he ultimately makes off with some money and closes the scheme before detection.

It's just that it's worrisome to see a chairman of the freaking NASDAQ to have actually operated a Ponzi scheme. What's next? Hedgefunds?

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Deep Thoughts

Instead of a catnap, I wonder what taking a dognap would be like. I'm betting it involves a lot of drooling, snoring, and running in place.

The Importance of Heat

Tea and temperature go hand in hand. I try and aim for about 120-140 degrees Fahrenheit for green tea and a little cooler for white tea, a little more for rooibos and wulong, and boiling or close to it for black (or Chinese "red" tea) and pu'er teas. I'm really not that choosy when it comes to tea steeped at approximate temperatures, because I can only tell 3 things about tea and temperature: if the tea has been brewed in tepid water, hot water, and boiling water. And honestly, the taste gives the water temperature away. Tepid water yields weak and watery tea, hot water yields a better tasting, thin tea, and boiling water produces good tea.
But, the next thoughts in this next paragraph don't hold any water (har har) for green and white teas. Today I brewed up some sheng pu'er, the Xiaguan 2007 Tibetan BaoYan, in a porcelain mug. The taste was a little different than what I was used to, much cleaner in a sense, but I attributed my taste familiarity with this tea to my yixing teapot and unlined yixing cup which I use for this sheng. Maybe I was getting flavors from other teas previously brewed in the teapot and the cup, and that this brew of Baoyan with "tea masala" is what I'm used to. But as the body of the porcelain mug got unbearably hot to hold and forced me to grip its handle, I realized that the water was not staying quite as hot as it would in my yixing.
I noticed this in later infusions where the tea tasted very good, but somewhat dulled. I tried warming up the mug with hot water and then infusing my tea, but I still got the dulled taste. I guess porcelain doesn't insulate quite as well as clay. It's interesting because I've never noticed this before with green and white teas, but they only require semi-hot water for good tea. Pu'er just seems to like very hot water to brew properly.

And I'm still wondering if perhaps I should dedicate my yixing cup to one type of pu'er, or if it too will season along with the pot and enhance teas in one way or another.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

An Existential Minimalist Christmas

As our corporeal beings accelerate towards the coming of the Winter Solstice usurped by the Christian holiday of the birth of Jesus Christ and that amusing television situational comedy's day of praise for Festivus, I have looked into the depths of my brain to determine if what I am experiencing is in fact real and if I have any way to prove it. The slap that I gave to myself consequently hurt, but that does not make my life nor anything in it real. I may have dreamt that my tender cheek ached, and yet unable to wake myself from a horrible Lovecraftian nightmare.
In other words, I am in a festive mood for Christmas.

The gaudy songs that portray water in a solid matter precipitating upon terra firma, and subadults enjoying gamboling out in it make me weary. Anthropomorphic shapes of this "snow" that manifest themselves and exhibit cognizant behavior only excited me the first time. Ungulates of the far northen hemisphere that display genetic rostral mutations as a beacon of light in the 625-740 nanometer wavelength of electromagnetic radiation only serve my ideas that human life must be composed of boredom and misery in order to be a full, well-developed human being. To summarize, I am tired of all these plebian sounds and words strung together to create "Christmas music."

So, what must a man do to feel that his life has meaning and worth? He must create or record for posterity an accomplishment that will appear as a tile in the mosiac of humankind's varied history. I am creating a song for Christmas. And if anyone knows how to upload midi files to this
infernal theoretical google blog, I would humanly appreciate it.

Friday, December 5, 2008

George Costanza

With the way my life is going right now, if I were bald, I'd be a doppelganger for George Costanza in terms of situation and outlook.

Monday, December 1, 2008

Pyramid Schemes or Vector Marketing

Great. In my quest to find temporary employment until the Navy godwilling comes through, I came across Vector Marketing. And my alarm bells went off ringing that it was a pyramid scam. Which it honest to god is. Let me explain.
Apparently sales(wo)men have to buy a set of expensive knives to display, and attend mandatory seminars and workshops for which they are not paid. That sounds like a ripoff, and it is, but it's not officially a pyramid scheme until you have to recruit more people to work for the company. As it turns out, there's a small bonus you can receive for recruiting friends to work for the company. All of this sounds very sketchy, but if I were to work for them, and I recouped my losses on the knives and gas and food, and turn a profit, there wouldn't be a problem right? Except there have been a large number of complaints lodged against them through the BBB and people seem to actually lose money working for them. To me, it seems like the company would make a considerable amount of money requiring people to buy the knife set, and then wait for another sucker to come along and get hired. I still don't fully understand why most of the on-line job finders are riddled with these companies or the ones claiming you can make millions from your home. There may not be a sucker born every minute, but a scam sure is.
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