Zook before you leap ...

Apparently, this weekend's college football game between Illinois and Northwestern will be played at Wrigley Field, and with this special location comes a special danger - the outfield wall being what looks like inches from the back of the east endzone.

I know this because ESPN said so here. That's also where I saw the following quote from Illinois head coach Ron Zook:

"I just told them they're getting ready for the Arena League," Zook said. "If they don't make it to the NFL, you go to the Arena League."

I think that the fact that Ron Zook is their coach alone means they're playing Arena football when they leave. It's not the fault of Wrigley Field's right-field wall.

Sometimes you have to hear to believe ...

I can't believe this exists. Seriously. It's on a short list of the best/worst/best again things I've ever experienced. Priceless when he starts his Charles Barkley, Arnold Schwarzenegger and Stan Van Gundy impressions.

Don't let this go to your head...

Here's what James Harrison said about this tough hit he laid on Joshua Cribbs this past weekend:

"I thought Cribbs was asleep," Harrison said. "A hit like that geeks you up, especially when you find out the guy is not really hurt, he's just sleeping. He's knocked out but he's going to be OK."

My first instinct is to say something like 'What do you think you are, a doctor?" But the stupidity of his words just won't allow that. Asleep? You're talking about the guy who you just ran down and smashed into, head first, right? He's not narcoleptic. Maybe the hit was so hard that Harrison himself forgot he was even there.

I don't pretend to know much about what the NFL should do when it comes to rules, but I know this: people like Harrison aren't smart enough to figure out what's best. If he can't recognize what a concussion is and the serious repercussions of having this type of injury, he's a danger to everyone he encounters on the field of play. One day, I think he'll regret being so ignorant.

How many bands can kick your ass under a bridge?

Well, there was that one run-in I had with one half of Scorpions, but that was just a misunderstanding. Check out the video below, courtesy of http://www.blogotheque.net. This band really is that good.

Quarry Hymns - Land of Talk

This band really is just that good

The magical bling bling

So, I guess It's not enough that Guillermo del Toro left production of The Hobbit, leaving the film without a director (unless Jackson does it himself) and Peter Jackson as the de facto winner of the production's Michael Moore look-alike contest. Now, unions in New Zealand and Australia are getting in the way.

I don't really know who's right here, and I couldn't care less, honestly. I assume that there's a lot of money to be made here and that no one's getting completely ripped off. The fact of the matter is that no movies would be filmed in New Zealand if not for Peter Jackson, so maybe now's not the right time to get into this.

For now, everyone's favorite New Zealanders Bret and Jemaine's synopsis of the Lord of the Rings via song and rap will have to do.

Now, I'm no expert ...

but I don't think that you're looking for moments like this when you go climbing.

Outdoors sports are about camaraderie, the company of your peers and an obstacle or task that you want to complete together - for fun - but this is just taking it too far.

Shut up about dogs already ...

In the months since the BP oil disaster ... wait, really? Months?

Yes, months since BP directly (or indirectly) caused what will probably end up as one of the more dramatic changes in an ecosystem in recent human history, we've seen a lot of things happen. For the most part, we see those things happen and shrug, going about our day as usual and wondering whether the iPhone 4's problems are truly the signs of an end to the Apple era.

We've seen birds, covered in oil. Whatever.
We've seen dead whales and dolphins. South Park said it best.
We've seen fisherman and oil industry workers lose their jobs. Put a shirt on, rednecks. It's time to join the shirted masses in office parks and skyscrapers.

Now they're dragging puppies into this, and that's just not going to work. Apparently, people whose jobs are affected by the oil spill just couldn't possibly bear to have a dog anymore. I mean, dog food (at it's cheapest) costs about $1 per day for most dogs. And how are they going to look for a job when they have to walk a dog twice a day? That's, like, 30 minutes of jobless wandering while other, less dog-encumbered, people are grabbing up all the good stuff.

"I could've been a stocker at the Wal-Mart, or a cook at Boston Market. Now look at me. I'm walking my dog. And later, he's going to jump on the couch because I'm too depressed to say no. And he's going to lick Cheetohs out of my chest hair. What kind of life is that for a man."

-- Unknown

I agree. You shouldn't be eating Cheetohs in the first place. As for the chest hair, perhaps an upgrade in the shirt department is in order. I know, I know. Wife beaters are incredibly comfortable, but how about you slip on that Dale Jr. shirt that you found at the thrift store. You know, the one that had less armpit stains than the Tony Stewart one next to it, and even though Tony Stewart is definitely a better driver than Dale Jr., you, for once, made a decision where personal hygiene trumped your love for NASCAR? There you go.

Now, about that job ... yeah ... it's going to be a while on that one. Wealthy multi-national conglomerates don't tend to "hurry up" for the sake of the lower working class. Enjoy extended unemployment (maybe), your eventual "big" check from BP and free health care (hopefully).

Home protection

Last September, I got a dog. You may remember me mentioning this a few times on this blog. She's turned out to be pretty great in most regards, but a protector of the home she is not. That's why I think I'm getting one of these. No, I'm not going to make one myself. It'll be hard enough to wait the inevitable 5-10 days for shipping; I'm not going to spend the next 8 years coddling, feeding and training one myself. Plus, I'm guessing they age pretty well, getting stronger and more ruthless as time goes on. Especially if I don't feed or coddle it.

I guess I'll still have to feed it, though (stupid 'laws') ... and train it ... wouldn't want it to fall behind on the latest and greatest ass-kicking methods. Well. Shoot. Maybe this isn't such a great idea.

Jay, it ain't so ...

Now, I know he had some all-star help, but the President of the United States of America should never be able to upstage a legendary (like it or not) comedian who's actually trying. Jay Leno, you just don't have a clue anymore. A graceful exit is ... well, it's about a year in the past. If you hurry up and retire (again) now, you might be able to take John Travolta's spot in Wild Hogs 2 where you can be ignored at a safe distance by people who actually enjoy laughing.

Yours Truly,

Thanks to the fact that I follow one of my favorite bands, Land of Talk, on Facebook, I discovered something really interesting today. It's Yourstru.ly, a website dedicated to exposing some of the creators' (who are, themselves, artists of different, non-musical mediums) favorite artists through film and audio recording. The site has a solid design and, as far as I can tell, has some pretty cool music on it. I went in search of a live video performance of "Some Are Lakes" (thanks for explaining what that song's about, by the way), and left having watched an equally interesting and catchy video for Morning Bender's song "Stitches".

Hopefully, there's even more to come.

Jokes you should never make

There are a lot of jokes you should just never make. Yes, maybe my vampire joke from a few days ago belongs on that list, but it could be far worse. How do I know it could possibly be worse? Well, aside from regularly thinking of some pretty stupid stuff, I just heard Alton Brown, almost everyone's favorite Food Network celebrity, make the worst joke in television history. Worse than anything on Meet the Browns, though I do see the correlation. Worse than anything Friends ever puked up like some mother bird, regurgitating used up jokes for it's devoted audience in a newer, hipper setting than the last 'best show ever'.

Friends is a horrible piece-of-crap show, by the way, but that's something to talk about later. Right now, I need to get to the un-funny. Here it is, the worst joke ever told on television. I paraphrased all but the 'punchline'.

Alton Brown: ... then you add one tablespoon of instant yeast, one more cup of baker's flour, and you're done.
'French' chef: What the hell are you doing, tool. Don't you know you're supposed to soak the yeast in warm sugar water first?
Alton Brown: Not instant yeast, baguette.
'French' chef: Grumble, grumble ...
Alton Brown: I guess he didn't care for my yeast inflection ...

That's right, the punchline is the part where you, all of the sudden, felt the urge to hit someone. I put it in italics just in case. Who makes jokes about yeast infections? Seriously. Who would ever do that?(Incidentally, ladies, if you or someone you know have jokes of this nature ... shut it.)

I wanted to try and come up with other jokes like this one, you know, to fill out this blog, but I just can't seem to come up with one. It's beyond me.

Apocolypse Meow?

parasite - ˈper-ə-ˌsīt, ˈpa-rə-\' (n.)
Etymology: Middle French, from Latin parasitus, from Greek parasitos, from para- + sitos grain, food
Date: 1539
1 : a person who exploits the hospitality of the rich and earns welcome by flattery
2 : an organism living in, with, or on another organism in parasitism
3 : something that resembles a biological parasite in dependence on something else for existence or support without making a useful or adequate return

I think it's important that I start with that definition because it is at the very heart of the nationwide, global, even, crisis at our hands.

In the United States alone, there are an estimated 72 million dogs and 81 million cats spread across roughly 34% of all households, all of which are unknowingly harboring spies, thieves and, with them, the destruction of mankind. I'm talking about pet hair.

"Don't be stupid," you might say. "All mammals have hair; it's science. Did you spend your entire life in a public education system?" As a matter of fact, I did. All but three years. You're missing the point, though.

Think about it. You're a mammal, right? Now tell me this: when you lay down in bed or on the couch, do you leave behind copious amounts of human hair? Chances are very good that you do not, but they, your most trusted companion and 'best friend', cannot help but leave behind these teeming masses. Teeming with what, you ask? With conspiracy. If you own a dog or cat, you know the signs:

--> They're in your bed learning how and when you sleep. Soon they'll know exactly when to strike.
--> They're on your clothes watching your every move, using you to infiltrate even the most secure of locations: hospitals, airports, data-centers. They're learning your behaviors and habits.
--> They're on your phone, listening. Pull off that fancy phone cover you got for Christmas; they're in there.
--> They're even after your money. Just yesterday, I found one in my wallet, sneaking ever closer to that five-spot I've been holding on to since last Thursday.

The worst thing is that your pets don't even know of these nefarious plans; that's the goal of the parasite, to use it's host for its own ends without offering anything in return. Your trusted friend is the vehicle of the end of life as we know it. Soon, pet hair will be everywhere. In every city, every town, in all of our shoes and on every pant leg. Be warned and be vigilant, for we have the instruments of salvation within our reach.

File under --> Bad Jokes

Holy batrimony.

Vampire.

He has a cold.

... I think I'm on to something here.

Let's get irradiated, Part 2

Well, I made it. It was a long, hard road filled with many hardships. Well, not exactly, although it was really hard to wake up at six a.m. with the sun refusing to come along.

MRIs are strange things. "Here. Lay down on this bed, get real uncomfortable, then we'll shove you into this tube thing and tell you not to move," they say. "Oh, and it's loud. Here are some earplugs." Did I mention that MRIs take almost an hour? ... and that's if you can stay still for an hour. I sure couldn't. I messed up two of the tests, further extending my stay.

I accepted the earplugs gratefully, but i'm not sure I needed them. Yes, it's probably a little loud in there, but that's not the worst part of the noises. They're unnerving. If being stuck in that tube for an hour isn't enough to crawl under your skin, the noises could get there on their own. You know they're coming. There's a clicking, like some rave is going on somewhere in the room in between each test, and then they hit you. Picture this:

You're sitting in your living room, quietly reading a book and trying to relax, motionless on your favorite couch. Your neighbor listens to house music as he cleans on Saturday afternoons. Weird as it sounds, you've gotten used to this over the years. Then a knock at the door and the unfamiliar voice of a robot. That's right. A robot. Instinct kicks in and you just ignore it. Any rules you would apply to Jehovah's witness or other unannounced ambulatory visitor certainly apply to a robot. Just act like you're not home and this will all be over. Problem is that robot stays for 5 minutes, uttering unintelligible utterances in robot speak. He (or she, or it, to be fair) leaves. Back to the solitude of your couch and the house music.

But what's this? Another, different sounding robot at the door. Again, he stays for five minutes and speaks his robot nonsense continuously through that time. He leaves. This happens multiple times over an hour of your afternoon. Pretty annoying, right? Well, say you accidentally put your glass down too hard, or if the robot detects the subtle sway of a parted curtain as you peer out to see who's bothering you with digitized dictations. If this happens, the robot will still leave after a few minutes, but he doesn't go far. He stands on your lawn patiently and returns to your door after all other robots have said their piece. When there's an opening, he returns and repeats his message.

This, my friends, is what it's like to get an MRI. Annoyed by robots for over an hour ... kind of like watching iRobot with Will Smith. Wait, no. Sadly, I kinda liked that one.

Let's get irradiated

It's 6:30 am. The sun is nowhere to be seen. Now, I make it a point to avoid this part of the day, preferring the more reasonable hours of eight and nine, but I don't have much choice. Today I'm getting an MRI for my busted right wrist. If any of you have any knowledge of me being an immortal who has seen his way through multiple historically relevant wars and who has a chance for a bit of shrapnel here or there, or if your family helped fund a Canadian super-soldier program during which my bones were coated by metal: now's your chance to let me know.

No one? Okay.

I should've taken a different appointment time.

I can't believe I'm about to write this ...

but Kid Rock might not be an idiot. Check out the video from Fox News ...

Note: In true Fox News form, they don't give you what they say they will ... there's no embed code, so here's the link.

Of course, Fox News might be the only 'news' organization willing to give Kid Rock a venue to speak about politics, but I'm 100 percent sure that his ability to speak candidly and in a reasonable tone is accidental. There's no way they intended on a reasonable voice being heard anywhere their logo would be present - it's just not done.

Back to Kid Rock.

Of course I agree with his point that politicians are not currently interested in the job at hand as much as they are about making a career of it, and I agree with Kid Rock that both he and I are undereducated to be making a public statement about what government should be. But the point he makes that I am surprised to agree with him on is the one about the shift of people in this country to a more European way of life, as he calls it. Condos and smart cars, for short. Now, I don't think that condos and smart cars can adequately sum up a European life, or that they're an entirely bad thing - they're just probably not for me. And I don't totally agree with the traditional American get as much as you can for yourself view as it pertains to land ownership, but I do feel that there is something uniquely American about our lives and it would be a shame for us to lose our identity as Americans in an ever-globalizing community as much as it's a shame that we seem to push that identity to places it doesn't belong.

That begs the question: Should we (Americans) homogenize our view of Europe? It's possible we're just becoming more British, or more Hungarian. Maybe we're not adopting all that much of an Italian or Dutch lifestyle. I did see some windmills as I was flying from San Francisco to Nashville the other day, but I'm pretty sure the click-clack of wooden shoes was absent in any airport I stopped at.

My point is that, while I agree with the core of what Kid Rock says, it's coming from this pin-hole view of the world. That's astounding, considering he has more money than you could spend in a life, and plenty of time to do some traveling. But, like the host said, he's everyman here in the States, and if Fox News did a poll ... well ... if a credible organization did a poll, I think they'd find that a good percentage of Americans justify their fears the same way he does - with ignorance.

Well, we made it ... but at what cost?

Decades come and go, and the first one of the 21st century was no exception. I'm not here to do a recap blog for everything I did in that decade but, overall, I would say it was a success that didn't finish as strongly as I hoped. What I am here to talk about is zombies.

I've been thinking about them a good bit lately -- mostly because I've been playing Left 4 Dead, but also because it's such a strange idea, the zombie and the situation in which you'd find yourself post-zombie apocalypse. The one question that I thought of recently that's never been addressed is whether or not you could eat a zombie for sustenance and not become one yourself.

Granted, these zombies are often characterized as putrid messes of human flesh, missing key parts like an arm, eye or tongue, and possessing something that you'd never want (a virus that turned you undead), but I could see how you might be forced at some point to wonder if you could eat the zombie whose face you just eradicated with a pump action sawed-off shotgun. If you cooked it to a certain temperature, would the disease be killed? Or would ingesting the flesh of a zombie turn you in to one of them no matter what?

Sub-question: Is this cannibalism?

I should probably write about something else while I'm here but, due to scheduling issues, not having internet for a few days and forgetfulness, I've lost all my good ideas. Oh well, I'm sure they'll come back ...