Isn't it too early to be this jaded about politics

I did not vote for Mitt Romney last election.  I did it out of the naive position that he was insufficiently principled; he seemed to be someone who wanted the presidency simply for its own sake.  It was unclear what his specific policies would be, because like his fellow Bay Stater John Kerry, he had occupied a number of positions on his way to a national campaign.  In short, he felt like the Republican Diet Coke of Hillary Clinton.

Looking back, that feels silly now.  In part because I don't really fall neatly into either particular ideological space represented by the two major political parties.  But also because now, when faced with the actual Hillary Clinton as a candidate, that the alternative is a sort of clownish villain.  (I'm thinking more Dr. Evil than Joker...)  It's hard to tell how dangerous he might actually be in practice, but that's a bit of a different question that the previous paragraph.

I don't really have a question about either Romney's or Clinton's competence, or their belief in the formulation of our economic and political system.  My reservations were about the amount of freedom each would take from us, which has been kind of a moot point over the last 16 years as, like when Eisenhower opted not to dismantle the New Deal, Obama has chosen to maintain the surveillance state and pieces of the War on Terror that were largely elective in addition to his interventionist decisions that doubled down on Bush's during the economic crashes.

The idealistic part of the electorate seems to be moving away from what I believe, the pragmatic is lining up behind an obviously corrupt technocrat and the nationalistic is distilling that occasionally compelling spirit into a volatile rocket fuel rather than a sophisticated single malt.  Volatile is the best word to describe it because there is a possible upside to a Trump presidency.  There is floor, though, is more sever and more likely.

I guess it kind of depends on my faith in the resiliency of American institutions.  I think that our institutions are mostly excellent, but if they continue to be populated by people who do not seem to believe in them -- or at least appear to elevate their partisan loyalties higher than the mores of the institutions to which they belong, notably the Senate -- then it may not matter how good those institutions are.

The crazy thing is, at this point, I think I'd pick almost literally anyone of the other serious choices than those who remain in the race.  (Ok, probably not Cruz.)  But man, does it look like Biden missed his moment.  Or hell, Romney.  This time, I think I would have been a little more willing to compromise and choke down the Diet Coke.

Click here to begin

All of you faithful reader out there know how much attention I pay to commercials, even with my DVR, which I have not previously mentioned. I have a DVR, and it has kind of changed my life. Kind of. I still watch them. I still judge them. I still love the Sonic commercials, regardless of what one of my friends might think. Microsoft has made a big splash lately. They've got Bill Gates running around with Jerry Seinfeld. They've got Bill Gates running around with all sorts of other pcs. I guess he has a lot of time on his hands nowadays, now that he's no longer running the world from his evil throne. (Notice that I have not made a judgment about Gates; just his throne. Or did I?)

I don't know how I feel about the Seinfeld commercials. They're weird and avant-garde and memorable, but I can't say that they're funny. They're just weird for the sake of weird, and since they are both famous, people notice. The question, though, is when did Seinfeld stop being funny? Actually, Gates isn't too bad. But that's because he's Bill Gates on a tv commercial telling Jerry Seinfeld that he doesn't wear his clothes in the shower. That's weird for the sake of funny.

The other one is the answer to the Mac vs. PC commercials. It isn't that funny either, but that's not really what they're going for. It's actually a pretty cool commercial, except it's like 5 years too late. The Mac vs. PC commercials are ridiculous now (although I did laugh at the pizza one) and not really that relevant anymore. Where have you been, Microsoft ad people? Or Windows ad people? I don't really understand what the companies are anymore.

What is the best party story ever?

I think everyone loves Jeopardy, whether they freely admit it or not. There is something lovable about Alex Trebek and his feigned sympathy when somebody confuses Hirohito and Akihito. Everybody feels the same way about the inane stories people tell in the middle of the Jeopardy round, mostly how much more interesting we are than the people on the show and their stories about their cats and proposing to their wives at football games. Last week, I drove to Savannah to try out for the chance to tell my inane cat stories to millions of people all over the country, right before or after Wheel of Fortune.

It all started about eight months ago when America’s favorite quiz show put out its annual online online qualifying test. I had been waiting on this moment for a long time; probably since the very first time I heard the category title “Potent Potables.” This would be my time to shine.

Before the 8:00 pm start time, the 50 question exam could he about anything, from Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries” to the reign of Tiberius Caesar or this year’s Best Picture winner. I do not remember a lot of the details, and since they kept most of the details hush-hush, they kept my score a secret. It reminded me a lot of “the permanent record” that teachers kept in elementary school. They also tell you that there is an element of randomness involved, I assume to keep your ego in check enough not to go around to your friends and discuss how you knocked the test out of the park. You cannot get on the show with out a little luck. In fact, you cannot even make it past the first cut.

Last month, though, I got word back. After eight months of waiting on pins and needles, I got an e-mail telling me to arrive at a hotel in Savannah. The only warning, the only preparation really, they offered me was to arrive prepared for a written exam, a personality interview, and a mock Jeopardy round. I expected the written exam to be a lot like the online test, and it was, and I had seen enough of the show to kind of know what to expect from a simulated game, but personality interview? What does that even mean? Do they have a personality type in mind? Are they worried I am going to arrive in an oversized hat? It is television, after all, and you never really know what it is they are thinking. They could be thinking something like, “His head will look huge on camera.” Oh they did have one more suggestion that I forgot: have fun!

When I got there, they gave us a little history of the show and explained how the trick is as much about timing as it is about knowing the answers to Alex’s Questions. Or questions to his answers. Or whatever.

The written exam was another 50 questions with eight seconds for each. It was just as tense as it sounds, since the questions about opera are just as hard in Savannah as they are from your couch. After it was over, the discussion was just like the ones that happen after tests in school or a after a poker game: obnoxious. I do not care if you knew who created Daisy Buchanan, this is competition. This is deathmatch. This is Thunderdome.

The next step was the mock game and the personality interview (they happened together). They ask you about your inane cat stories and your job and what you would do with the money. The trick, though, was that they did it at a rapid, television pace to catch the unwitting civilians off guard. Everyone did ok, unfortunately. The herd was not thinned that much at this stage.

They insisted that the mock round would not be “graded,” but I am a little skeptical. I think it was an effort to try to diffuse the nervousness, and every wrong answer was really black mark on our secret Jeopardy permanent record. It is a bit intimidating, there’s a lot to think about: wait for the question to be read completely, think of the right answer, buzz in, answer loud, smile, and please oh please do not forget to answer in the form of a question. This is all while you are standing in front of the other Jeopardy gladiators. One question sticks out in my mind – to which dynasty did Mary, Queen of Scots belong? I knew the answer, and kept saying in my head, “It’s Stuart, do not say Tudor.” Yet, invariably, I buzzed in and said, “What is Tudor?” Wrong. That is a black mark on my Jeopardy record forever, I just know it. I did get other questions right, but Mary, Queen of Scots will haunt my dreams.

They told us that they keep us on file for eighteen months. So, anytime between next week and a year and a half from now, I might get a phone call (hopefully from Alex himself) saying, “Mr. Hathway, we need you in Los Angeles right away.” Then I can start bragging to my friends about how I knocked the Jeopardy tests out of the park, and hopefully, will not fall on my face on television after doing so. Luckily for you guys, though, I do not have any cats.

Vampires aren't so bad

You know how people talk about classic literature like they're great, but when you had to read them in English class in high school, they were terrible? Like Great Expectations? Or Catcher in the Rye? How did some of these things get to be classics? If I met Holden Caulfield in person, I guarantee I would want to hit him. But then again, he wouldn't be the first fictional character for whom I have a heaping dose of contempt. That honor goes to a certain bi-polar train who went from painful lack of self-confidence to an excess of smugness after completing the task he was designed to perform. I think you know who you are, train.

I have discovered one of those books, however, that escapes this unfortunately common bit of literary boredom. I have, of course, found many others, but this one in particular made me want to speak out. You might remember this from a previous entry, but it has had a rather healthy impact on me: Dracula. It is excellent. I was warned that Frankenstein (note: not the young variety) was a pretty boring book, so I had my doubts. I'm not quite finished, but I am pretty sure that they kill the Count. Which is kind of weird, when you think about it, because he can do pretty much anything awesome at night but is pretty useless during the day. So how hard would it be to make sure that nobody can mess with you during the day? It does kind of sound like it's shaping up to be a little bit of the vampire version of Wile E. Coyote, though.

Anyway, he's still a pretty awesome villain. Way better than Frankenstein's Monster. This book has one of the coolest images I have ever read in the commandeered ship's captain (I don't want to give away too many details) and he drugs the help of one of the women that he feasts on with laudanum. Anyone who uses laudanum is automatically awesome. Case closed.

[Insert overused catchphrase]

In a rather inexplicable and unfortunate turn of events, I find myself carpooling a lot less now, which "frees" me to listen to the radio morning programs when I can't decide on a cd with which to rock off my face. I sometimes go for the news, because you just need to know what is going on out there. NPR, however, isn't always the most dynamic or even relevant, because honestly, there are only so many times you can hear about how brutal the Chinese are being to Tibet and how uptight they are about the Olympics. Not to minimize the brutality, but I already don't like authoritarian governments. I'm on your side already on this one, NPR.

I normally default back to Lex and Terry, who I guess are one of those interchangeable morning DJs who are kind of funny and sometimes have a caller driven show. Typically, on this particular program, it is either about relationship advice or asking for some sort of merch. I can understand the merch, because who doesn't like free stuff? I know I do. In fact, callers into L&T even say, "GIVERS!" when they get on air, and are answered with "Us." So, I'm guessing this has some sort of precedent in the history of this show.

The thing that I don't really understand is why do these people call into Lex and Terry to ask if he or she should break up with his or her significant other who is clearly cheating on him or her? (Isn't that pronoun construction awkward?) I understand that there is nominally some variety of screening process in order to become a radio personality, but I have to wonder what sort of qualifications the callers think that our friends Lex and Terry might have that they can solve their problems?

On the other hand, it is really funny when these people call in with some story that really makes no sense and the resolution is to beat the crap out of the guy's sister's boyfriend. That is precisely the sort of entertainment I want on my way to work in the mornings.

Name three things

I have gone back on three things that I toyed with before this week, and finally made the plunge. I am not opposed to trying new things, in fact, I rather like doing that. You know the first time I ate cake? I don't remember it, since I was probably like two, but I bet that was pretty freaking awesome. Just think on how much cake I would have missed out on if I didn't have that kind of courage back then. I'm a pretty big fan of cake.

I am also a pretty big fan of milk, as well. Especially with cake. I have been pretty loyal to whole milk for as long as I can remember. It is creamy and delicious. However, I no longer have the metabolism of a jungle cat or a meth addict because I sit in an office for the better part of 9 hours a day. I scaled it back to 2%, and it's still pretty delicious. But it isn't creamy and delicious. It's a little bit watery by comparison, but it still has some of that wonderful, life-giving fat in it. Twice as much as 1%. I won't even begin to discuss skim; it is an abomination.

One of my Christmas gifts was a watch. It's Swiss and fancy, so I imagine it's good. If there are four Swiss things that I trust, they are these: Swiss banks, Swiss chocolate, Swiss Misses, and Swiss watches. I also like Swiss cake rolls, but I'm skeptical that they actually come from Switzerland. I haven't worn a watch in ages (probably since the days of Shark watches -- man, they were so cool), so this has taken some getting used to. We also had a big discussion about which wrist the watch goes one between me and my also left-handed mom. We decided even though she wears it on the right hand, she's doing it wrong.

I also decided it's time to go back to the fusion. My old razor that was three razors was leaving me wanting, and the cartridges were getting hard to find. And I figure life's too short not to use an unnecessarily excessive number of razor blades to perform a morning task that I hate. I also am making pretty good money, so I can afford to spend an extra three dollars on my razor blades and have a face as smooth as a well shaven baby.

So are these steps forward or steps backward? Will I miss that Whole minus 2%? Will I be a changed man now that I always know what time it is? Will I be satisfied with 6 blades? Stay tuned for the next installment of... How Observant.

The guy is everywhere

Sometimes I have to wonder what sorts of people watch infomercials. I don't really have any idea, but it 's really kind of compelling that there is a definable profile, my guess is very lonely people who quietly sit at home in bed at night eating bugles in bed before they turn off all of their appliances with the Clapper. It seems like it must be a definable sort of person because the same guy sells everything, so he must appeal to somebody.

I know you know who he is, you just may not know his name. I think he is most famous for selling OxiClean, but don't fall into the trap of thinking that's all he's good for. Oh no. His wikipedia page is full of all sorts of useless products that this energetic bearded man is trying to convince you that you need. He is, of course, Billy Mays.


Why Billy Mays? What makes his screaming so much more special and marketable than other people screaming? Why would anyone want a picture of him to be autographed? How did he even get that job? Does it pay well? Can he get into posh clubs with his late night cable celebrity? I certainly hope so; I wouldn't want to party at any place that would turn this man down.

Shattering taboos, one pair at a time

I just got some new underwear this weekend, and I must say, I am completely pleased. I have been wearing underwear for a while now, and I'd like to think I'm pretty good at it. (Although, occasionally I do make mistakes. Once, more recently than I'd like to admit, I put my boxers on backwards. The urinal was completely off limits that day.) There are times that I'd like to mention things about underwear, but for whatever reason, underwear is pretty sexualized. I think that's a bit extreme. It'd be like saying that a guy who climbs Mount Everest once is a big time mountain climber. I've spent a lot of time with science, I want to see some repeatability, killer.

I would probably say that for the average person, underwear's day to day role is much less sexual than the media would lead us to believe. I'm pretty sure it's mostly so you keep sweat and stuff off your real clothes. And to let you have a chance to wear something that has dollar signs on it. (Sadly, I don't actually have money boxers. I wish I did.)

I might have underwear questions. And they might not be sexual in nature. Like, for example, what's the deal with the hybrid boxer-briefs? There is no way that they seem competitive with the full-on boxer shorts. Also, are the people who are wearing briefs later in life just afraid to try something new? How many people try boxers, but decide they hate freedom and go back? I want statistics on that. But this isn't polite conversation. Even though asking something like, "Do my cutoffs go with this blazer?" might be a little less controversial.

This is to say nothing about the feminine sorts of underwear. But they seem even more sexualized. Bras, for example. There are some girls who probably could get on without them, but they still insist on it. Is that because of social pressure? An excess of pride? A safeguard against turning into a human thermometer? You can't ask that question out loud.

And I think that's bunk. I would like to know what sorts of personal decisions go into electing between boy shorts and panties for girls. Is it similar to the issues weighed for boxers and briefs with guys? Or is it usually a sexualized decision? How often to girls top and bottom underwears match? That doesn't even come up with us! (Actually, I guess I only speak for those of us who are not transvestites.)

I think the biggest question is about the boxer-briefs. The more I think about it, it seems like the worst of both worlds. And is it really necessary to put those douchey looking underwear models on the cover of every underwear package? I know what it's supposed to look like.

More important than the presidential debates

I have a question, and considering this weekend, it seems timely. Which television program would you say is more important in shaping American culture and comedy between Seinfeld and The Simpsons? Both are eminently quotable, enjoyed enduring success and have (or will) leave gaping crater in their time slot when they stop airing.

I think I have to say the Simpsons, due to its revival of the cartoon as a mainstream form of mature entertainment and social commentary. Seinfeld definitely has had a huge impact on what the bounds of a sitcom can be and had a number of guest stars that we all recognize (Teri Hatcher, Daphne from Frasier, James Spader, etc) but the Simpsons redefined what the role of a guest star is.

What do you think? Also, I think I owe it to many years of childhood to go see this movie this weekend. It just simply can't be bad.

Ain't I a stinker? No.

I have been a little bit worried that my roommates would suspect that I was out there smelling badly. This is in part because I have been traveling a lot lately. I have visited such exotic locales in the past few weeks as Atlanta, GA; Greenwood, SC; Ormond Beach, FL; Augusta, GA; New Smyrna Beach, FL; and Aiken, SC. Atlanta was the first stop on this magical mystery tour, and I realized upon arrival that my deodorant opted not to make the trip. I think it might be tragically claustrophobic and afraid to spend time in my travel bag. I can only imagine the psychological horrors it feels once it is actually deployed.

I, of course, replaced the deodorant with a more adventurous one on the road. I wouldn't want to be an unwelcome guest in all of those places, and since I knew that once I got to my second destination (where the mosquitoes are) I would still have many more places to see I decided to get the Bear Grylls of deodorants, one completely unafraid of travel.

As I was touring the southeast, though, my other lonely deodorant was lying on my otherwise empty side of the bathroom sink. So, here in C-Town, my roommates (I can only presume) would look at my antiperspirant and say to themselves, "He must be pretty ripe by now." I feel I need to set the record straight: I wasn't. I immediately replaced it as soon as I discovered it missing.

This does raise a rather difficult question, though. Which one do I use now? Should I alternate days? Or underarms? Or maybe create a delightful cocktail of fresh sport and cool active to get the best of both worlds? Would they cancel each other out in that case? I think some experimentation might be in order.

Zaxby's ztole from Zima, Reeze'z Piecez; nobody noticez

There is a new batch of commercials that showcase Zaxby's zalad zensations and in what manner the people like to eat them. So far, nobody has said on a plane or in a train that I have seen. The thing about this, though, is that it combines the add campaigns from two others. Anybody remember Zima, which offered zomething different? I sure do. After checking Wikipedia, it is apparently still made. Which is shocking. Evidently, it was part of the transparent drink craze, which honestly, I kind of miss. I would drink clear anything. But the point is, Zima renamed s words as z words which was pretty obnoxious ten years ago, and hasn't gotten cool since.

I know every single one of you remembers "There's no wrong way to eat a Reese's", which was actually a pretty good campaign. I remember the one with Dracula, and he sucked the peanut butter out, vampire style. I wish I could do that. I'd do it to all sorts of things, like oranges and eclairs. Wouldn't it suck to bite into an eclair that had all the custard sucked out?

The thing I don't understand is why would anyone steal someone else's ad campaign, especially if it was a bad one? Tag ripping off Axe is a little more understandable, because it's basically just hot chicks wanting to bone guys who use the product. That's pretty universal. Hot chicks sell stuff. They used to sell beer, but the beer folks have been pretty quiet lately. They need to step up their game a little.

I do have a question, though. How may of you really think that Zaxby's zalads would really be zensational? And how come they don't go ahead and say zenzational? That seems like an arbitrary time to be a stickler for correct spelling, don't you think? Also, do they still make Zima? If so, why?

The most important question ever

The other day was my roommate's birthday, and his girlfriend made him a cake. I haven't had a piece yet, but I plan on having a piece of that tasty confection later this evening. With a big glass of milk and possibly some chocolate/vanilla ice cream. The presence of cake in my apartment, though, did raise a serious question that probably will never be solved: Cake or pie?

Now, both have their upsides. For example, cake -> frosting and pie -> crust. Cakes have all sorts of variations like from extremes like devil's food to angel food. It's really too bad that the Irish haven't provided us with their variant -- the banshee food -- but it would probably just be Guinness poured over soda bread. That doesn't really sound all that great, actually. Pies also come in all shapes and sizes, but are typically dominated by fruit, which is probably for the best.

Here is a list of the three best pies, in order: key lime, pecan, and apple. All others are inferior. I know somebody's going to say "You are committing a sin leaving out pumpkin!" I did it on purpose, because I think it is unnatural to make a pie out of a squash. Is there a zucchini pie? There's a zucchini bread, and there's a pumpkin bread, too. No summer squash pie, either. Mostly, though, I don't like pumpkin pies. And if you take a bite out of a pumpkin pie and a key lime pie and you prefer the pumpkin, honestly, you can keep your pie opinions to yourself. Graham cracker crust + key lime pie = scrumtralescent.

Cake, though, also has some pretty nice qualities. When it's fluffy and moist, it's pretty good. Also, a glass of milk complements the taste of cake so much, that's definitely a plus. Milk is so good that anything that makes it better is pretty good in my book. Most pies don't have that quality. The frosting is really the linchpin of the whole thing. I have to say that if the frosting is good, the cake probably wins. However, if the frosting is weak, the whole thing falls apart. It's like a really good defensive baseball team with crappy pitching, which I guess is the New York Yankees. The pitching is so critical that it doesn't work out right without it. That's the answer to the question.

One of the few professions that are called brokers

I have a question. If I wanted to open a pawn shop, how do I enter that profession? It seems like an odd thing to just up and start, because it requires a large sum of money (to offer in exchange for the pawned items) and an almost reckless desire to keep it (since the folks who enter into arrangements with pawnbrokers are frequently of questionable scruples). And anyway, why would I want to buy stolen stereo equipment, copies of Boston LPs, crappy guitars and cheap firearms anyway? If I were trying to put on a stage adaptation of Joe Dirt, maybe.

There are all sorts of professions of comparable integrity that I think sound much more appealing if I have a lot of unused money lying around. Bookmaking, loansharking and futures speculator all seem to be about as risky and profitable. I don't have any hired muscle, though, and that could be a problem with some of those. When a Wall Street stockbroker is all coked up he'd be hard to bring down. Maybe one of those guitars or firearms would be handy after all.

Of those, I think, I would personally like bookmaking the best. I'd post odds on all sorts of crazy things. While I was a tutor in college, I wanted to do it with class averages for the tough engineering courses. I didn't, though, because I liked being a tutor. Wait, that's not completely accurate; I liked getting paid to be a tutor. If I were a bookie now, though, I think I'd post odds on things like the over/under on the number of people who almost get in a fight at one of the bars downtown (2 a night), the next presidential candidate to say something really stupid (6:1 Romney, 5:1 Obama, 3:1 Clinton, 3:2 Biden) and the over/under on how many glasses of milk I drink in a day (2).

The only problem is I wouldn't be able to do things like which household item is more awesome when dunked in liquid nitrogen, since that's kind of subjective. We're working on a quantification, though. And not just for liquid nitrogen, either; quantifying awesome in every context. Please let me know if you are interested in sponsoring this research project. I also accept objects for pawn.

No, no, not a Jew. Achoo.

I have a funny sneeze. I purposely chose an adjective of ambiguous meaning in "funny" because I mean it both in the sense that it's distinctive and at times comical. That's expected, though; I come from a rather solid pedigree of funny sneezers. My mom's is superbly loud, my dad's actually sounds like "achoo", and is the only sneeze I've ever actually heard that sounds like that. To be accurate, though, it's more like "ah.... CHOOOO!" and it sounds like he's emphasizing the last part on purpose and kind of faking it. My mom and I have called him on it, but he thinks we're crazy. All I have to say is that I'm not faking my ludicrous sneeze. My brother's individual sneezes aren't anything to sneeze at (had to be done and I apologize for it) on their own, but the real distinctions is they travel in packs. He goes for like thirteen in a row, usually.

I remember the first time somebody laughed at my sneeze. It was kind of a strange experience, because really, what's funny about a sneeze? Apparently, the answer to that question (if it's my sneeze) is "the sound." I don't know what the acoustic cause is, maybe nostrils that are just perfectly shaped to get an unusual intonation. I wonder if it would change with a nose piercing. Anyway, somebody recently said "Is that a bird call?" after one of my sneezes in place of the more traditional "bless you."

This makes me wonder what sorts of etiquette implications are involved in a sneeze. Surely it is preferred to offer the bless you than not; but where is the line drawn? And how funny does the sneeze need to be for the laugh and the [not] clever one-liner to take its place? My typical rule of thumb is that I don't give the bless you to people I don't know, and even then, usually not to dudes. Don't know why, but that's just how I roll. I sometimes don't even bother with the ladies, though, because if a person has a quiet sneeze or like a half-sneeze, it's hard to tell if a bless you is warranted, because really, is there anything more embarrassing then blessing a cough? I submit there is not.

Tree people get up early

This time of year, it's cooling down nicely, so I like to sleep with my windows open. After all, it's fall in South Carolina (the Men of the Square Table won't let you say "autumn"), and even though the leaves haven't started changing yet, it's definitely getting to be a rather nice temperature outside, as opposed to the outrageous scorching that the summer usually gives us. Reminds me of home, really. The only bad part is that women start putting on more clothes, but as I've said earlier (not on this blog, though) women wearing winter clothes pull it off pretty well. (Don't forget: I am a Floridian at heart, and this mid-50s low-60s weather is winter weather in my mind.) I can't say I really get why winter clothes work that way, but there is no question about it. It's a good look for them, and I applaud them for it.

So I've taken to sleeping with my window open, because the fresh air is nice and it will save on the AC bill. I get the go to sleep to the rhythm of the crickets and a nice breeze, without having to deal with the start and stop of the air conditioner all through the night. I had to break out an extra blanket, but all in all, it was an excellent system; I was spending less money and being more comfortable. It was scrumtralescent.

There's just one wrinkle. For some reason, a developer has decided that this part of Central needs to have no more trees. I suspect they are going to build something, but it's a little hard to tell since it's not particularly stellar land on which to build. Nevertheless, they are tearing down trees all around us, which wasn't a big deal until this morning. You see, immediately across the street from our apartment was a small collection of woods and trees and what not. These trees were slated for execution. That wasn't really a big problem for me until they started removing them this morning at 7:30. I mean, good Lord. Even though this street is not predominantly college students, it is still a college town and it should be illegal to operate machinery before 9. They can do it until 2 am if they like, but starting before 9 or so is a bigger tragedy than the Hindenburg and Ricky Martin combined.

A mystery for the ages

You know, every morning when I open my newspaper after I've finished reading the news, opinions and sports sections, I always go to comics. It may seem juvenile, but really, there are a few that I look out for and occasionally enjoy. There are a few that are just so ingrained in my newspaper experience that I read them even though I know they're not going to be amusing in anyway, like Garfield and Blondie. Dilbert is usually solid, sometimes brilliant and every once in a while terrible. But, if you know me, you know I don't want to talk about the good ones. I want to talk about the ones that are so maddening that I would rather set fire to the page and burn my initials into my right arm with the fire.

This is a tricky distinction, though, because comics like Snuffy Smith are immediately unreadable. This one is just blank space as far as I'm concerned, so it doesn't offend me nearly as much as, say, Mary Worth or Cathy. Most of the continuity print comics, like Mary Worth, are difficult to get into because you can't read from the beginning of the arc. Also, Mary Worth has been running since before World War I (Mary Worth was quite a dish when the series started), so it would take a lot of back reading to get started. Cathy is just ink vomit on the page; she a stereotype of annoying woman that I wouldn't tolerate in real life and certainly don't want any part of on the comics page. Oddly enough, I don't mind For Better or For Worse, though, even though that one's not funny and it is nominally a continuity comic. It manages to pack a lot of stuff into the four panels, handle the continuity and stand alone. That's the key -- standalone as well.

Family Circus, Ziggy and one called Pluggers all get honorable mention. Family Circus is supposed to be cute, I guess, but it isn't. It's like "Dennis the Menace", another one panel comic, without the "Menace." Who cares? Pluggers is one I don't recall seeing outside of the Greenville paper, but it's MO is describing what a plugger is, and basically it's an old fat person. Great. Just what I always wanted to see in average drawings and writing. I don't know what Ziggy's problem is, but I don't want any part of it.

Undoubtedly, the be all end all of awful comics is Frank and Ernest. If you are unfamiliar with this comic, I have the deepest envy of you. It is a poorly drawn comic that is never funny. Yet somehow, every time I open to the comics page, I end up reading it. I don't have this problem with Snuffy Smith. I don't know why Frank and Ernest fill me with more hate than, say, Nazis. I think that whoever this Thaves character is deserved to be tried for crimes against humanity.

This comic, which I just made up, is better than any Frank and Earnest comic I have ever read.


Who out there thinks that Frank and Ernest is good? If you leave me a comment and say you like it, you better be able to describe to me your favorite strip or I will call you a liar and an accomplice. I cannot believe that this comic continues to run. I suppose newspapers don't really get a lot of complaints about comics, especially inoffensive ones, but I'm thinking about writing some letters.

Ring, ring goes the bell

This week begins the fall semester at Clemson University, and really, it's a two-edged sword. I have completed all of the course work requirements for my degree, so the classes themselves are neither edge. The good edge is mostly football season and increased presence of college aged females in the area. The bad edge is that it will take me longer to buy groceries.

Football season is wonderful. Everybody's excited, people are talking to people they don't know about a game, and there is tailgate food. Game days are like a carnival, except without the cotton candy and shiftless people running rides. The shiftless people sell tickets in front of the stadium instead. It's all very energetic, but it is a little weird to think that some of the guys on the field are younger than me, and 85,000 people are cheering their names. I don't know what I'd do if 85,000 read this and wanted me to succeed; hell, I don't know what I'd do if 18 people read this. I'd probably quit my job and try to figure out a way to swindle all of you out of money so that I wouldn't have to do real work. Come to think of it, that's pretty much what athletes have done.

The big problem is that the population of Clemson, SC will double this week. Clemson is a delightful (but slightly boring) place during the summer. The weather is nice, it's deserted so you can always get food on a moment's notice, and the traffic/parking situation is stellar. Now, none of that is true. The weather might not change, but otherwise I stand by it. You see, when large numbers of college age females females do anything, college age males follow. I'm pretty sure that every sorority house has at least one guy dressed as a women who has infiltrated their ranks. So, when I go to the grocery store to buy peanut butter, feta cheese, and jalapenos, I'll have to either go at 9:45 after the people have already bought their beer for the night or wait in Disneyesque lines and fight with traffic. The traffic isn't so bad, compared to my last place of residence (Atlanta), but parking downtown is. Downtown is where the bars and restaurants are (in case that wasn't obvious) and it's a small street and really kind of oddly shapen, sort of like a banana with strange protusions. Actually, it's nothing like that; it's more like a cactus. Regardless, the parking situation is less than ideal.

Anyway, these next few weeks will mean football and having to park further away from my lab.
Over the summer, I sort of staked out a regular spot, although I think my roommate and I staked out the same one. We have opposite schedules so it worked out. Neither of us have class though. Is there such a thing as a one edged sword?