... About Being Right All the Time

I told you, Reader! I totally called it months ago! And you didn't believe me, did you? You thought I was just being clever, or paranoid. Well, who's being clever now?

That's right. Still me.

The point is, I was right. Check this out:




<-- Here's the story I found on msn.com today.
Here's the blog I wrote in December. -->



(By the way, I'm totally stoked because if you Google 'Japanese robot convention' this blog comes up.)




You see? Never doubt me, Reader.

Oh, come on. You don't really think I'm that arrogant, do you? That I always have to be right about everything all the time? Well, you're wrong. You're so wrong. I'm not like that at all.

Well, maybe just a little.

But you're partly to blame, Reader. You're an enabler. Because you ask me stuff. All the time. And acleast 80% of the time I have a pretty good idea what the answer is. And the other 20% of the time I don't want to ruin my track record. But I'm not completely out of touch with reality. I will admit when I'm wrong.

When I get caught being wrong, at least. But that counts. That totally counts.

It's a genetic trait, being right. My whole family is always right, all the time. My mom keeps calendars. She writes down what happens every day, so that if ever there is a debate about what movie we rented on July 12, 1995 she can whip out her calendar and prove that she's right. My dad's always right, too. In fact, my dad is always so right that he's often right even when my mom's calendars say he's wrong. Maren is perhaps the most gifted at always being right, because the moment there's any indication she's wrong, she manages to manipulate the space-time continuum so that whatever she was wrong about two minutes ago has somehow never happened.

And Taylor? When Taylor is right about something, he's right about it for the rest of eternity, no matter what the evidence is. Like the time he was right about the Taco Maker jingle. "Guys, it's 'Makes Meat Fresh!' I'm serious." That makes no sense whatsoever. "Yes, it does! 'Taco Maker... Makes Meat Fresh!' It's on the radio, you'll hear it." Are you sure it isn't 'Taco Maker... Mex Made Fresh'? "Nuh-uh. It's 'Makes Meat Fresh.' Because they have meat in their tacos. Fresh meat."

So I'm sorry that you sometimes feel inferior because of your comparative wrongness, Reader. But you know what? You're going to want somebody who's always right on your side when the Japanese robots invade.

... About Running My Own Country

I've always wanted to travel to faraway destinations. I want to experience cultures different from my own, to broaden my understanding of how I fit into my corner of the world. Nowadays, with the help of Dr. Google, I sometimes take what I have decided to call for the purpose of this blog, "virtual mini-trips." I'll pick a place in the world where I'd like to go, and look up everything I can find about it. Pictures, maps, tourist guides, must-see spots... sometimes I'll even look at airfare and hotel prices, just to give myself a vague idea of the likelihood of me ever being able to afford the trip.

One of the places I've virtually visited recently is Dubai, UAE. Holy crap, this place is amazing. And it's crazy architecture and man-made private islands, and it's all been built with oil money. If you think about it, that means that last time I filled up my car I helped pay for this:






which essentially makes me an investor. Not a large one, granted, but maybe that little pile of sand that represents the Falkland Islands is all me.

So I was digging this Dubai idea until I looked at their official website today and saw: "Please note that Israelis and travelers whose Passports bear Israeli stamps will be denied a visa."

Sigh. All desire to visit Dubai flooded away. I want no part in a place like that! In fact, I'd like my Falkland Islands back, thank you. I no longer support this effort. Until the Middle East is able to bury the hatchet and figure out the need for Arabs and Israelis to co-exist peacefully, I won't be heading out to Dubai. And, if history is any indication, that will happen in about 2.7 million years. By then, Dubai will probably be overrun with Japanese robots, and that does not a happy vacation make.

Last night in Institute we were talking about some of the troubles of the world, like the Middle East crisis, the housing slump, the economy crumbling, etc. Brother Shamo said, "Did you hear? Obama, Hillary, and McCain were all in a boat that sank. Guess who was saved? America." It's funny (and sad) because it's true.

So now more than ever, Reader, I am realizing the real need for me to establish my own country. Don't get me wrong - I Y America. But our system has a couple of kinks, kinks that I've thought long and hard about and have come up with ways to make less... kinky (although that doesn't sound very fun). However, since the possibility of getting these de-kinklers into action in the U.S. Government are slight, running a country of my own is probably the only way to give them the chance they deserve.

Bailey used to make fun of me for dreaming about owning my own country. But she's beginning to see the light. We won't have any hobos because there will be government-subsidized work programs where residents help a community shelter to retain self-sufficiency in exchange for room and board. We will be the most green country on earth - all vehicles will be electric, powered by under-ocean turbines and/or wind energy, and all buildings will be constructed of renewable resources. And, most importantly, every restaurant will be required to have pictures of all of their menu items so you don't end up ordering Iggy's Sicilian Lasagna by mistake (shudder).

The possibilities are endless, Reader! Seriously, who wouldn't want to live in my country? I have it all worked out. All I need is some land and stuff to make a flag, and I'm all set. Land's pretty expensive, though. And I'm a little strapped for cash at the moment. Hmmm... Maybe I will take a page out of Dubai's book and build my own island instead! Perfect! Trust me, Reader. Give it a little time and my country will overflowing with loyal, hard-working citizens.

Oh, yeah, there's one tiny little thing I forgot to mention. Please note that Canadians and travelers whose Passports bear Canadian stamps will be denied a visa.

... About Love Songs

I have a confession to make, Reader. I have to tell you something that will probably shock you. This might be hard for you to hear, so I suggest you sit down. Or, as you are likely already sitting at your desk since you are reading this via the interweb, I suggest you lie down on the floor with a cold compress handy and ask someone with a strong constitution to come in and read it out loud to you.

I'll wait while you properly situate yourself.

Okay, Reader, here goes. My confession. It's really hard for me to admit this, but I feel like we have built a circle of trust over the last few months of this blogging relationship, and I owe it to you to be honest. I owe it to myself to be honest. Okay, deep breath. I would like to confess...

... I'm cynical.

Reader? Reader?! Are you still with me? Should I send someone to fetch the smelling salts?

Now, I know that was difficult to digest, but please, Reader, give me a chance to explain. After all we've been through together, don't you think you owe me at least that?

I've always suspected that I might be cynical, but I had an epitome today and can now conclusively call myself a cynic. It was one of those life-altering moments, and it came about by doing something I've done many times before. It's just that suddenly, I realized what doing it meant. Here's what happened: this morning on my way to work I was changing CDs and thought OK Go would be a brilliant follow-up to yesterday's dose of Eels. After listening to a couple of songs I decided to skip forward so I could listen to track 10 before I got to work. That's because track 10, titled "Crash the Party", is one of my top-ten favorite love songs ever. See?

If you're unfamiliar with the song, you probably don't understand why that is a shining example of my cynicism. So allow me to clarify by posting some of the lyrics:

You're not the prettiest girl in town.
I'm not the only boy with solid clothes and a solemn frown.
So to hell with Valentines, to hell with perfume,
To hell with chocolates, and picnics, and Sinatra tunes.
'Cause while the rest of the girls are drowning in roses and songs he composes,
And while the rest of the guys are all trying,
Trying so hard,
Oh girl! Let's crash the party!

I love a love song that openly rejects the traditional love song values I grew up with! A song that basically says, "Screw you, romance." One of the later lines is, "I never took much stock in...all that useless jewelry." Holy shunt, it's like they took the words right out of my mouth.

I know what you're thinking, Reader. This could be a fluke. Except that my other favorite love songs are all anti-romance, too. In fact, some of my favorite love songs are anti-love! At least the modern ones are. Nowadays it seems like the only options for love songs are sad love songs and the mushy-romantic-I-can't-live-if-living-is-without-you type songs. And I despise the mushy-romantic-I-can't-live-if-living-is-without-you type songs. I guess you can say I'm just not a big fan of cheese and whine. So I pick the sad songs. Because, after all, a sad song says so much (thanks, Sir Elton!).

I'm the same way with movies - I loathe "romantic" movies where the leading man sends the leading lady a roomful of flowers and diamond-encrusted puppies in a basket that have been trained to bark "Beautiful In My Eyes". Sheesh, Reader. If a guy ever did that to me I would probably either pass out from laughing or take out a restraining order.

So go ahead, Reader. Call me cynical, because I think the whole concept of romance as it's thrust upon us in all Celine Dion songs is pathetic and stupid. I guess I'll just have to live with that.

Now get up off the floor and come read these sad love song lyrics I've put together for you:

The trick of love is to never let it find you,
It's easy to get over missing out...
It's probably best I stay in Indiana
Just dreaming of the world as it should be,
Where every day is a battle to convince myself
I'm glad she never fell in love with me.
~ Jon McLaughlin, "Indiana"

You have broken me all the way down.

You'll be the last, you'll see.

What chance have we got,

When you missed every shot for me?

In the morning, when you're turning,

I'll be out of reach.

And in the darkness, when you find this,

I'll be far to sea.

~ Glen Hansard, "All the Way Down"

Who am I to say this situation isn't great,

When it's my job to make the most of it...

If all along the fault is up for grabs, why can't you have it?

If it's for sale, what is your offer?

I will sell it for no less than what I bought it for.

Pay no more than absolutely zero.

~ Jason Mraz, "Absolutely Zero"

You said some things to me that
I have had trouble forgetting about.
There ain't no sense in holding
Grudges forever, that's the simple way out.
We may not be so close now...
~ Ari Hest, "I Forgive You"

You may tire of me as our December sun is setting

Because I'm not who I used to be...

'Cause now we say goodnight from our own separate sides,

Like brothers on a hotel bed.

~ Death Cab for Cutie, "Brothers on a Hotel Bed"

Well I've been thinking about the future.

I'm too young to pretend it's such a waste

To always look behind you.

You should be looking straight ahead.

Yeah, I'm gonna have to move on

Before we meet again.

Yeah, it's hard.

~ Jet, "Move On"