Soft, Cuddly Fuel*

I have advocated on more than one occasion** that killing and burning animals is an environmentally responsible way to produce energy. It appears that the city of Stockholm has recently begun enacting my plan to save the Earth. While it is upsetting to me that the Swedish beat us to the punch on this one, it is gratifying that my ideas are finally gaining the recognition that they deserve from the international community. Efforts like this demonstrate that there are simple, common sense ways for people to work toward a better world for our children. And terrify them.

*Sorry, Melissa.
**Exactly one occasion

Hook-Up Culture: The Rise of an Unspeakably Terrifying New Evil That Will Murder Your Children and Lead Us All to Complete Destruction

Do you remember the good old days? The way it used to be, when milk cost a nickel at the corner grocery store, knee socks were the at the height of fashion, and all the happy, white children crowded around the ice cream truck on hot summer afternoons? Well, my friend, those days are dead, and America is free falling in a cable-cut elevator into the fuming mouth of Lucifer. The reason, you ask? Barack Obama. But more importantly, teenage sex.

That's right, they laughed at Oprah* when she broke the news about rainbow parties, and they laughed when desperate parents tried to protect their daughters by making them attend purity balls (which are not, by the way, at all creepy, and do not have even the faintest oedipal overtones). But new studies** prove conclusively*** that teenage promiscuity is back in a big way, and it's hear to kill your children. Again.

If you don't believe me, just turn on your TV. Scantily clad women appear in every kind of advertisement, homosexual characters are increasingly common on sitcoms and reality shows, and celebrity party girls are the new role models for young girls. You don't need me to tell you, but it follows logically from your discomfort with our changing culture that all young women are in danger of becoming extremely dirty whores. The carefree days of "going steady" and "shotgun weddings" are gone, replaced by the new, so-called "hook-up culture." Dating is a thing of the past, and romance has been replaced by a depraved culture of partner switching, group sex, and drug-crazed experimentation with bestiality. "Sexual education" in schools teaches our children that using condoms will protect them from the emotional trauma of premarital sex, and that contracting sexually transmitted diseases is a hilarious bonding activity and rite of passage for all teenagers.

No one argues that these things are happening****. "But what can be done?" you ask. First, we must ban rap music, the satanic soundtrack to our new American horror movie. Then, we must pass a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage to prevent Dan Savage and his army of sodomites from normalizing their deviant practices and influencing our youth. Accomplishing these things will buy us enough time to implement the permanent solution: building a time machine and transporting the entire United States back to 1952, before the erosion of our modesty and decency began. Once there, we can use our modern nuclear technology to destroy the Soviet Union and pass laws which will prevent the '60s from happening. Once we can rest assured that hook-up culture is just a distant memory from the future, we can finally start reliving our fond memories of the Andy Griffith Show childhood.


*After they believed every single titillating detail, took reactionary precautions at school and at home, and forced all of their children to read a best-selling book with an incredibly low Amazon customer review rating.
**Opinion pieces on Fox News.
***State with emphasis.
****Except communist haters of freedom, democracy, and God. And some statisticians and health care workers.

Dynamite TV

If you are male college student, then lately you might be saying to yourself, "Where is all the free beer? And what about the hilarious sexual adventures with 26-year-old freshman women with fake tans, fake boobs, and short skirts? My television promised me these things, and it really hurts to be lied to by the plastic object that raised me." Well, reader, some people would argue that your expectations are comically naive (and sexist), and that apparently you've been so successfully brainwashed by Van Wilder and Road Trip that you can no longer distinguish reality from the twisted fantasy world being used by rich people in Los Angeles used to sell you cologne and diet soda. These same people would probably also suggest to you that the zany, hilarious, alcohol-fueled hijinks that you remember from high school are actually figments of your underfunctioning imagination, and that your formative years probably looked a lot more like Napoleon Dynamite than American Pie.

But not me. No sir, you don't get the massive traffic I have on my blog by insulting your readership, and so I'm here to tell you that your expectations are totally legitimate, and that real problem is not you, but Reality. And I don't mean Reality like on Fox. I mean Reality like the one where people in high school are 16-18 year-old kids, where the underdog gets beat by 45 points, and where someone getting accidentally hit in the balls isn't funny.

Alright, so maybe that's still funny, but the point is that Reality sucks. In real life, everything is anticlimactic, drama is mostly imaginary (and devoid of tension-heightening music), and effective product placement is difficult because there aren't that many cameras. Your friends in Reality have uneventful relationships, they have boring jobs, and, unlike your other, cooler friends from the TV, very few of them have spray tans and surgically enhanced facial features.

Reality contains a lot of weird, ugly people with unflattering clothes and complicated, 3-dimensional personalities, most of whom are not particularly photogenic. In fact, many of these "real" people are only entertaining if you interact with them for extended periods of time. To make matters worse, most people outside of your television will become offended if you yell at them and attempt to switch channels whenever they say something that you disagree with or find boring, and so long-term interaction may actually become a requirement for dealing with them.

So what can be done about this, you ask? The simplest solution is to just live in your TV. But before you run out to Best Buy and purchase five plasma screens large enough to completely cover the walls and ceiling in your living room, you might want to check your bank account to make sure that you have the $50,000 required to complete this insanely awesome project that will permanently transform your life for the better.

Unfortunately, most of you (or the, at most, one person who reads this), do not have this kind of money, and so you will have to rely on the budget-friendly alternative: smash the glass on the front of your CRT monitor and climb inside.* This is probably going to hurt, so you're going to want to get good and wasted before you start, and you might want to turn the volume down so you don't hurt your ears. I'm not an electrical engineer,** so I can't be certain what happens when you drunkenly force your head into a television that is turned on, and I'm not lawyer,*** so I don't know if your next of kin should sue me or Panasonic. But there's one thing you can be sure of when you're jamming your face through a cracked piece of glass into a box full of cathode ray tubes and high voltage capacitors: it has to be better than Reality.

*Your TV might not be large enough to fit your entire body inside, but don't worry, your head is all you need.
**Probably.
***Definitely.

Self Confidence

Are you self-confident? Of course you are. As a reader of this blog, and a person who accepts my opinions as gospel, you can rest assured that, should you ever need a quick answer to one of the deep mysteries of life, you can simply reach into your gut and violently regurgitate a few mangled fragments of cultural criticism stolen from the Internet and drunkenly mashed into my keyboard to the sound of Pat Robertson waving his pitchfork and screaming for the head of Hugo Chavez on a plate. But I'm off topic.

What I was planning to say was that even the most self-confident of us sometimes find occasion to doubt ourselves. Strange questions about the relationship between large numbers of small chemical reactions and human consciousness, your bizarre failure to reach infinity despite counting continuously all weekend, and the popularity of Ryan Seacrest may continue to haunt you, and you may occasionally become lost while reading my overly long and convoluted sentences, rendering my advice confusing and leaving you up the creek.

In these times of need, you might turn to the television for guidance. This will usually work, but what if there's just a "Charmed" marathon and a bunch of Lifetime movies on? What then, you poor bastard? Do you just pound down a bunch of Jagerbombs, load up your Colt .45, and slog through 27 hours of 9/11 conspiracy videos on youtube until you finally collapse in the puddle of tears and vomit covering your desk and floor? Maybe.

Or maybe there's a better option. But probably not. Cheers.