English vs Englush

A friend recently pointed out that you can switch your language on a Facebook account to Pirate. I, of course, had to check it out. While I looked at the variety of language choices, I noticed there was English (UK) and English (US). This of course brought the movie Idiocracy to mind. Was there a noticeable difference between the two English versions? Not really, but I couldn't help but wonder just how many years away are we from Englush (US). Trailer Park speak is quickly becoming the norm in America. We are now at a point where some people truly believe George Bush was a great speaker, and that Sarah Palin and her efforts to sound like the common "man" by dropping the last consonant of nearly every word was acceptable for a potential world leader.

So, just what would Facebook version Englush 1.0 look like? The infamous Wall may become the Wull or just simply Writey Thingy. Photos might become Pix. Info will simply be known as Stuff. Peeps as Friends? I foresee a new function called Aks where you can set up questionnaires to your Peeps. Could a Poke actually become a Hook Up? Will Facebook be simply known as Talkin'.com?

Please! If you have kids... set the example. Quit talkin' like a moron. And when your kids try to speak Stupidnese, jump on their shit. Slang will always have it's place in our culture, but there's a concept called "time and place". It's not meant as a lifestyle. This isn't a cultural thing. It's a lazy thing.

In Regards To The Final Episode Of Lost

All in all, I believe the last episode of Sanford and Son revealed more answers than last night's finale of Lost. I know... there are the hardcores who can probably shed some theory on the final answer. Yeah, I get it. They were dead, sort of, kinda, in a way... but they sure seemed like the most active dead people I've ever seen. Does that make them zombies?

Did I just get bamboozled by a rip off of the Sixth Sense? And what happened to the black guy and his kid? Why weren't they inside the church? Where was the French chick? What about that damn dog? Was he just waiting for Jack to die so he could gnaw on his femur? Sawyer and Kate were on the plane out with the Asian guy who senses dead people, as well as the pilot and the Latino guy who was a couple hundred years old, yet I only saw Kate and Sawyer in the church. What happened to everybody else? And if the Asian guy could sense dead people, why didn't he know they were all dead? Could he only communicate with deaderer people? What was up with the polar bear?

When a show like Lost comes on the air and consumes so much of the area of the brain designated to speculation, do they not owe it to the viewer to tie up ALL the loose ends? This was a complete rip off. This is the very reason I refuse to watch the Sopranos. It's my understanding that Sopranos was another series that sucks you in, holds on to you for years, and then ends with no ending. Why would I waste my time on that? These people need to take a lesson from folks who wrote great finales like M*A*S*H and Six Feet Under. These writers knew how to end something. I would have felt more complete had I watched Donald Trump hire Bret Michaels on Celebrity Apprentice last night.

Ok, I'll calm down now. I have a sense of relief knowing in just 13 hours I will be able to sit down and watch the series finale of 24. This cannot fail. Their are no mysteries to solve. We know the answers. Its just a matter of watching Jack kill everybody who ever went against him this season.

Oh..... wait just one damn minute... Jack Bauer? Jack Shepherd? Two Jacks??? Two series finales??? Is this a conspiracy? If Jack's been dead all along I'm going to lose my mind.

Ted Nugent Is A Dick

I recently had a short and mild exchange with somebody on Facebook about Ted Nugent. The debate came from somebody that I consider an idiot. He writes like he's in second grade and then expects people to take him seriously and buy his product. But I digress. The topic was political, and this Bozo suggested that Ted Nugent would make a great leader because he's a true American and has some sort of bravery beyond the common man and woman.

My response simply stated that Ted Nugent is a hot air bag and a raging coward. Ted Nugent sits in trees, shoots animals with a bow and arrow, and then remains in the tree until the animal bleeds to death... which can be a long and painful process. I have absolutely no issue with those who hunt as long as what they hunt and kill is used for the purposes of eating. I also believe that if you're going to hunt you use a weapon that humanely kills the target quickly. Believe me... the meat will taste the same. But Ted Nugent has a gigantic ego to feed as he sits in the tree ensuring he wouldn't have a face to face encounter with that animal.

I suggest Ted grab a knife and go toe to toe to see who the real dominant creature is. But Ted's a chicken shit, so this won't happen.

And then I began to take issue with referring to Ted as some sort of great American. What makes a great American? Hanging an American flag made in China? Spouting things off like, "we should nuke those towel heads"? To my knowledge Ted never served his country. I find that people who never served their country and then suggest we send our troops to war should shut their mouths. Who are you to suggest anything about war when you were too cowardly to go yourself. I never served my country. Why? War scares the holy crap out of me, thus I throw nothing but respect to the people who do step forward to do it, whether I believe in the immediate cause or not.

Then the person I exchanged values with suggested I say this to Ted's face, as if I'd be in some sort of immediate danger for doing so. Ted's in his 60's now and all I've ever seen Ted do is bark. I seriously doubt the man has much bite. I've seen Ted live and heard his words between songs first hand. I've seen and read interviews with him. My interpretations of his words wreak of racism and elitism, and packed full of Bushism rhetoric.

Believe me, I'd have no issue standing in front of Ted Nugent. He can spew his propaganda all he likes. Hell, I'd even let him do it from a tree.

The Dissection Of A Stupid Song

I would consider myself a decent guitar player and musical composer. My one area that has always been weak is my ability as a lyricist. I'm far too literal. I get symbolism, but I think I took one too many technical writing classes during my education. I truly believe it soured my creativity when it came to writing lyrics and poetry.

I was driving home the other day and Sammy Hagar's "I Can't Drive 55" came on. I sat and listened, and for the first time really examined what he was singing about. In the end I was angry. How did he get away with writing such a stupid song, lyrically? I thought it time to sit down and really examine this song. So here we go...

"One foot on the brake, and one on the gas, hey!"

Ok first off... that's so bad for your brakes. My dad would chew you out for that one. And talk about terrible gas mileage.

"Well, there's too much traffic, I can't pass, no!
So I tried my best illegal move
A big black and white come and crushed my groove again!"

I have to say you're pretty damn lucky that cop got you before I did. Road rage wasn't a term when you wrote this song. Nowadays you'd get shot for that crap.

"Go on & write me up for 125
Post my face, wanted dead or alive
Take my license n' all that jive"

At 125 mph you'd go to jail. There'd be no ticket. Jive? Nobody has said "jive" since the 70's. You'd think for somebody that can drive so fast you'd catch up with the times.

"I can't drive (pause) 55!
Oh no. Uh."

Out of context, this could mean many things. Perhaps you're driving a VW Bus. They can't get to 55 mph unless going downhill.

"So I signed my name on number 24, hey!
Yeah the judge said, "Boy, just one more
I'm gonna throw your ass in the city joint"
Looked me in the eye, said, "You get my point?"
I said "Yeah!, Oh yea!" "

This has all sorts of problems. What the Hell is "number 24"? Is that an L.A. thing? I seriously doubt you'd go to a city joint. It's more likely you'd spend time in the county jail. So, obviously, this song is not written from experience. Are you trying to sound tough? And when addressing a Judge, any response that was "Yeah!, Oh yea!" would probably get you a contempt of court charge if the judge is already that pissed at you. It's "yes your honor," or "yes judge."

"When I drive that slow, you know it's hard to steer."

Might I suggest driver's education?

"And I can't get my car out of second gear."

Transmission problems and you want to recklessly exceed the speed limit? I'm all for you going to lock up.

"What used to take two hours now takes all day.
Huh - It took me 16 hours to get to L.A.!"

This could mean anything. If it takes you 16 hours to get to L.A. from Seattle, I'd say you're driving like an idiot. If it's from San Diego, then it's about time California's Department of Transportation add a few lanes to I-5.

Sammy... I'd give you a D- for this project. It's poorly thought out, and just full of issues with context. I need more details. There's far too much room for interpretation. You're not Pink Floyd.

It Was 30 Years Ago Today

I awoke earlier than usual for a Sunday morning. We were going fishing. My uncle Steve, friend Jeff, Dad, and I headed out to the small lake. If my memory serves me, it was in Scappoose. We rode in the old Jeep with the row boat tied to the top. The sky was pure blue. We loaded the boat in the still water, grabbed our fishing gear, and headed out to the middle of the lake.

The water looked like a mirror of the sky above. The air was motionless as we kept reeling in the salamanders that tried to steal our bait.

Some time just after 8:30 a.m. something happened. That air that had been so quiet, the sky that had been so clear, and the water that had been so still... changed. A wind picked up and grew stronger and stronger. The sky darkened with clouds rolling in as if it were the apocalypse. The water's surface began to white cap. Something was very wrong. As our boat was blown around the lake, we decided to row back and get out of there.

We loaded everything up and headed to home. The radio in the Jeep had not worked in some time, so we still had no idea what was going on. This was 1980. Cell phones were the size of phone books and exclusively for the rich.

As we drove down our street, Mom was standing outside the house. We pulled in and asked what was going on. "Mt. St. Helens erupted!" And that was that.

We gathered the family and headed out to Brush Prairie, a small town just south of the mountain. My sister was dating a guy who's grandma lived out there. We parked along a quiet back road. The volcano and it's massive plume stood right in front of us. We could see the electrical storms inside the plume. We could hear the rumbling. We sat for hours as we watched Pacific Northwest history in progress.

I remember Steve and I out in the street throwing the football when the first ash began to fall in Portland, covering everything as if it had snowed. Again, my memory is foggy, but I don't remember the ash falling until a day or two later. I collected two bottles worth and still have them to this very day.

Just for some perspective, that photo up top was taken by one of my parents. There was no telephoto lens. That's just how close we were.

I Should Have Pursued Advertising And Product Development

From my good friend Lisa, who I actually get to see on Monday...

http://www.cracked.com/article_18494_15-unintentionally-perverted-toys-children.html