The Obituary of Mr. Hanley

Mr. Hanley, the new teacher at George W. Bush High School, strolled into his classroom. A thin, wiry man, he possessed the characteristic traits of a public relations man. He came in today wearing a blue business suit, freshly starched and pressed, and as he entered one could smell the acrid odor of far too much cologne, which he must have spritzed upon himself mistakenly thinking that it would, in fact, hide the unmistakable stench of bodily odors long neglected. The students, many of whom were slouched over onto their desks, suddenly bolted upward, hair standing on end, eyes bulging, red with tears, desperately attempting to find a small air pocket in which to breathe fresh air, which, it seemed, the new teacher had completely stifled.

“Hello, students,” Hanley said. “Today we are going to discuss the wonderful advances in technology that have occurred since the year 2007. We look around ourselves, and we see all these wonderful inventions–commuter spacecraft, virtual reality video games, and even more obnoxious Internet advertisements. And, of course, it all began, as so many things begin, with the Japanese.”

The students looked around, confused. After all, there are so many others they could place the blame on–Henry Ford, Richard Nixon, perhaps even Grover Cleveland–but who would want to blame the Japanese?

“You mean, they’re the reason that all our cars are ugly?” one boy asked.

“Yes”, Mr. Hanley said. “You see, back before the year 2000 all cars were reasonably attractive. But then came the Subaru Baja. After that, manufacturers realized that they didn’t have to make cars attractive. You began to see Scions and Honda Elements all over the road. And then, of course, manufacturers of everything–from bicycles to fishing poles to video games–realized that they didn’t have to make things attractive anymore, they could just throw a bunch of crap together and call it the latest model.”

“But what about all of this shitty rap-hip-hop themed crap that they have all over the place?” one girl, a straight-A student with black hair and buck teeth, asked.

Here, the Mr. Hanley had a problem, because it wasn’t the Japanese’s fault, that. Nor was it the fault of African-Americans. And then he realized a truth–one that would take the rest of the world many many more years to figure out:

Corporations hate everybody.

Mr. Hanley strolled into the bar. Sweat had stained the armpits of his suit, now ragged. He demanded a beer. He had lost his job. A student had accused him of being a racist (how very odd), and now, the man had lost his life. His wife left him, because she had never loved him. His son left him, because he had never loved him, either. Even his mother left him, because she never loved her son.

And don’t even get me started on his roommate.

He didn’t know what to do. He drank the whole mug down in one gulp. He asked for another. And he thought.

And he thought.

And he thought.

And he thought some more, so that I could continue writing with no real purpose, just to use some space on my website.

Ever since he’d figured out the truth:

–CORPORATIONS HATE YOU–

he had been sad. His life had fallen apart. And now, the corporations were trying to kill him, using fermented hops and barley, mixed together into a liquidy sort of liquid. He didn’t know what to do. He walked out of the door. And he kept on thinking, as he went home, to his rathole apartment on Mouse Street and Tiny Rodent Avenue. He was just about to turn on the TV, his mind continually screaming at him

–THE CORPORATIONS HATE YOU, YOU RETARD, WHY DO YOU THINK THEY MAKE YOU CHOOSE BETWEEN A HONDA ELEMENT AND A TOYOTA SCION CRAPMOBILE–

when he saw the girl in the building next to him stark naked, because she was a nudist and therefore had special protection under the law in 2050, along with NAMBLA, the ACLU and the Seventh Day Adventists, and the police came in and tried to arrest him, because under the Protections for Nudists Act of 2044 anybody who looked or even saw a nudist naked would automatically be arrested, because that means they’re a pedophile or pervert or stalker, it doesn’t matter, they’re something. He jumped out the window, and landed upon hard concrete.

His life had been sad. His death had been sad. His story had been sad. And his dog was saddest of all, because he didn’t get his nightly dinner. And it was all because of several different things that factored against him:

  • He was male.
  • He had decided to become a teacher, despite the fact that every teacher eventually has one loudmouth parent who does nothing but bitch about the entire American school system and then teach their equally loudmouthed children to do the same.
  • He liked attractive cars.
  • Nobody loved him.
  • His dog liked to eat.

And the list goes on and on.

What’s saddest about Mr. Hanley’s story, however, is that it sucks. I would never wish Mr. Hanley’s story upon anybody, even my worst enemies. And–this will shock you–I would never even wish this story upon my own mother, even when I’m angry at her because she doesn’t take me seriously when I want to get a $30,000 pickup truck.

And so, that is my point. Oh, to hell with it, I don’t have a point.

Oh, and by the way, to those teachers who want to know where I was this afternoon on the date specifically known as “Senior Ditch Day”: I had a cold.

Valentines Day 2007: Death by Nagging

It is always difficult to do homework, but more so whenever you feel like dying.

Well, at least, that’s what I discovered this last weekend. I do not believe I’ve ever had a minor cold stay on quite as long as one I had just a few days ago. It started out like many things do:

  1. I feel sick; my stomach hurts; I barely got 5 minutes of sleep because all I could feel was my throat getting tighter and my nose filled with bad things. My grandmother forces me to go to school anyway, because I have some test or something I have to do.
  2. The next day, I feel just as sick, and now wish I was dead, because I know there’s no chance I can stay home from school, inasmuch as I have a PowerPoint presentation to do, and if I don’t do it, my grandmother will nag at me all day if she hears a peep out of me, because that means I am still capable of breathing and intelligible thought and therefore could have went to school. I almost consider staying home anyway, but find out that tomorrow it’s going to snow.
  3. It snows, keeping me out of school on Valentine’s Day. My grandmother tells me I have to go to school the next day.
  4. I decide to stay home from school the next day. I wake up to my grandmother in a huff, and she refuses to speak with me until 3:00 PM the next day.

So, yes, my grandmother can be a handful. But, in her defense, there are more painful and difficult things to deal with, such as the act of stuffing live ferrets down your pants. However, nobody does this, except in Wales, I think, but I don’t think you can trust people that would name their land after a fat ugly fish and then not even get the name spelled correctly.

This week, of course, I’ve worked extra hard to finish up the homework I slacked on last weekend, by doing things such as, for example, uh, writing this post. My grandmother, of course, is thrilled. Even though I still choose to stay up every night until approximately 11:30 PM, which I discovered is as soon as I can go to sleep without being restless all night long and eventually screaming and throwing my alarm clock against the wall. And, of course, when my grandmother is happy, I am happy, because it is less of a chance that I will wake up the next morning dead.

Death by Nagging.

And now it’s time for… Dog Show!


Announcer: Hello, I’m Clive Chattenheimersmith, and this is the Eukanuba Pedigree Purina 2007 Tournament of Victors, in which we, you, and, mostly, a crack team of eccentric dog lovers who regularly bathe with their dogs, decide who gets the prestigious Eukanuba Pedigree Purina 2007 Dog Dish, which is carved out of solid emerald and engraved with a nice picture of a dog playing fetch with a jovial owner. Something I’ll bet a whole lot of these dogs would love to do, huh, Miles?
Other announcer: Yes.
Announcer: Right we are. And now, it appears that our three-hundred-pound Certified Dog Walking Person, who has been with this tournament for thirty years without stopping, is out to walk the dogs on the show floor!
Other announcer: No, that’s the janitor, and he’s holding a mop.
Announcer: No, I’m pretty sure that’s a do… oh, wait. My mistake. Oh, here comes the…
Other announcer: Nope, still no, now they’re going to parade their animals around the ring. Look at those butts jiggle.
Announcer: Uh, you mean, on the dogs.
Other announcer: No, I don’t.
Announcer: Righto, I’ll stop asking questions. And now we see the first contestant, a poodle named Pikachu. Apparently that is from the old, whaddyacallem, Pokey-man.
Other announcer: Whatever.
Announcer: Yep. And of course, as you can see, the dog appears to be a bunch of toothpicks held together by cotton balls, which is an excellent characteristic of this breed, as it shows that its owner has far too much free time on his or her hands. He appears quite alert.
Other announcer: Yes.
Announcer: Yes sir, and now our Certified Man Who Picks Up All the Dogs By the Rear End And Examines Them For No Apparent Reason is picking him up by the rear end.
Other announcer: That’s what it looks like from here.
Announcer: And now the next contestant in the Overly Made Up Dog category, the Chinese Crested.
Other announcer: Which looks like a horse.
Announcer: Well, if you don’t know as much as we do about dogs, you might think that, but in fact that’s a dog. A very small amount of fur and a small thicker strip along his neck makes him look a little like a horse.
Other announcer: No. A lot like a horse.
Announcer: What?
Other announcer: I’ve been taking a lot of drugs recently.
Announcer: Oops, I forgot to not ask questions. And it looks like it’s time for the judges to judge.
Other announcer: Yep.
Announcer: And now we have Jade Hoffenheimer on the floor.
Floor watcher: …
Announcer: Oooh, it looks like she got attacked by a dalmation or a pitbull or something.
Other announcer: Yeah, I didn’t think red clothing was quite that red.
Announcer: Can’t imagine why, considering how well we treat these animals! OK then, let’s go over to our other man on the floor, Bubba Jo Walters.
Bubba: Yep, and lookie thar, them thar judges just said that… yeppie! It looks like that thar pooder just got kicked out!
Announcer: Why?
Bubba: Apparently, one of the judges noticed that a hair wasn’t properly brushed. But, that’s what you get for owning a pooder!
Announcer: Why would one deserve that? I own a poodle, and…
Bubba: Dogs were meant to herd, and protect thar owner’s cattle from the wolves, and sometimes be loved, but I don’t think these here animals deserve to be forced to run around a circle all day to have their butts inspected by some fat…
Announcer (fiddling nervously with controls): Ha ha, it looks like…
Bubba: Hey, wait just a gorsh durn…
Announcer: oh wow! Our connection just went out! Well, sucks to be him, to think a dog’s not an object to be put on a pedestal! But nevermind. From all of us here on Animal Planet, the channel that is absolutely against abuse against animals in all its forms, especially when it’s committed by rednecks, I’m Clive Chatterheimersmith, signing off.

Do Leather Seats Make Up For Six Decades of Discrimination? An objective analysis. (Sort of)

I know I’ve written a lot about the following two items:

  1. If you want a Japanese car, you should buy it.
  2. Cars in general.

This will stop soon. I’m tired of the feed too. Plus, of course, the writing, subject, and style all sucked. But now I’m even more pissed off. This is due to the following post from YouTube.

You know, this is the sort of thing that gets me thinking, “I spent $100 on a stupid anime DVD set that wasn’t even any good, so that the Japanese can segregate and discriminate against me, my friends, and anybody who isn’t Japanese?” And, believe it or not, this video, as far as I know, is not an exaggeration. I’ll tell you why.

Right now in Japan, there is a massive labor shortage going on. Fewer and fewer children are being born, and fewer and fewer people are entering the workforce. Same thing happens in the US. But in Japan, the people are so angry (or afraid?) of foreigners that they refuse to allow any more in, even if not doing so could potentially interrupt their entire economy.

Sounds just like America. And everybody says the Japanese have been so abused.

I’m sure you’ve either heard or believe this. For decades, the Japanese were forced to completely rebuild after World War II and its atrocities against them. After all, we bombed them; in fact, other nations have ethnic slurs against Americans specifically due to Hiroshima and Nagasaki. We put many Japanese-Americans in concentration camps, killed their men and children, and left nothing in our wake. All over some silly harbor out in the Pacific.

But, then, look at the score a little more closely. The Japanese got where they are today specifically by explointing other Asians!

If I may explain:

  • During World War II, they joined the Axis specifically to help them in their crusade to take all of China.
  • During World War I, their primary accomplishment was in joining the Allied Powers specifically to take German territory in the South Pacific. They got where they are today not by being “abused”, but rather, by manipulating, exploiting, and doing whatever they could to take over all the other people who live in Asia. In other words, they may well be the most European nation in the Northern Pacific.
  • During the Sino-Japanese War, they fought with China to take its land in Korea.
  • Just before the outbreak of World War II, they took all the land in Manchuria (Chinese territory) on a spoof of a reason that would make the Marx brothers proud (i.e. by blowing up one of their own railroad lines and blaming it on Chinese terrorists, please don’t e-mail me 9/11 conspiracy theories unless they’re fun). When the League of Nations attacked the Japanese for this, Japan withdrew from the League, eventually joining the Axis with Germany and Italy.
  • Before WWII, Japan was one of the most militaristic nations on Earth. During WWII, it decided to bomb Pearl Harbor specifically to create a protective barrier to ensure that the United States wouldn’t attack it for taking lands in other Asian countries.

And you’ll notice how much we crave their culture. We watch their animes, drive their cars, and send them tremendous amounts of money for the priviledge. And, in return, the Japanese treat foreigners–not just Americans, but everybody–as if they are second-class.

And don’t get me wrong–there’s nothing wrong with buying Japanese. For many, it’s the best solution. And of course I’m not suggesting that Hiroshima and Nagasaki were right–they were depressing, horrific moments in world history. But the Japanese didn’t get where they are today by being victims of European and American aggression–for that story, look to China, (i.e. Boxer Rebellion, spheres of influence, etc.) Korea (a.k.a. French Indochina), or Vietnam (which I don’t think I really need to get into). Japan got where it is today–as one of the richest nations of them all–by being as European as they come, right down to their modern buildings and militarism (which the Americans forced them to shed as soon as World War II was over.)

My point? I’m sick of talking about cars, and my Japanese rants are getting old. Really, considering the fact that I named the districts of my Lego city after anime characters should really make me consider stopping the whole craziness of the thing. The last three or four posts are really just me thinking over what I should do, influenced by nationalism, well-intentioned but opinionated information, and my needs. What does one do?

Well, for one thing, they stop sucking up bandwidth, which sounds, frankly, good to me.

ASPC: Because Suicidal People Need to be Protected from Suicidal Robots.

Today I almost had a heart attack. Take a look at that. Yes, a robot. Yes, suicide. Yes, I’m pissed off too.

But then again, I suppose this is fairly normal. You know, for writers, people who try to be humorous, or anybody lacking “social graces”. I was considering titling this post “Attention American Suicide Prevention Council: Kill Yourself”. Then I realized my mother would object. After all, you shouldn’t joke about killing anybody, including yourself. You shouldn’t joke about race. You shouldn’t joke about gender. You shouldn’t joke about American workers or things children like or puppies or children or…

And then, of course, we get to the problem here.

What the problem is that the American Suicide Prevention Council, like all these other hippies, can’t get itself straight. It argues that everything running contrary to its central thought–that suicide is NOT FUNNY and is A TERRIBLY SAD THING and SHOULD BE PREVENTED AT ALL COSTS–is wrong.

What the hell? Why the hell can’t I make fun of suicidal people? Because they’re “mentally disturbed?” Listen for just one moment: almost anything that runs contrary to popular opinion has at one time or another been considered “mentally deranged” behavior, like homosexuality and feminism. I’ll bet you my own ass that just about none of you (read: hippies) at the ASPC would ever consider calling feminism “mentally deranged” behavior.

This also pisses me off because of who’s calling the shots here. If you’ll notice, it’s an organization claiming to be for suicide victims. As if they can’t speak for themselves because they’re all too crazy to do it. The irony, as far as I can see it in all this, is that if I were to ever kill myself, it would be to get back control of my life, because fascist assholes like those at PETA, the ASPC, etc., had taken away control. If I want to kill myself, I don’t care if it is because I’m nuts or deranged or whatever. It’s my damned decision. Yes, it will hurt families. Yes, it hurts lots of people. But it’s not your damned decision, ASPC.

The saddest part about this is that–well–the commercial was one of the funniest at the Super Bowl, and when GM cuts out the suicide humor, it will no doubt take away that edgy, silly sort of humor that made the commercial so fresh and unique in the first place. I confess that I was certain from the moment I saw this commercial that it would be controversial, but I thought it a breath of fresh air for somebody to show something new, fresh, and controversial. Society, I think, needs some controversy to judge itself morally, because right now, America is finding itself at a social chasm. One side believes everything sexual should be allowed, accepted, and flaunted, while the other believes that the other side is comprised of terrorists and will lead us to the kind of decadence that ended the Roman Empire. The Super Bowl, through Janet Jackson, found itself in the middle of this depressing political quagmire. Even more sadly, that split will actually make America weaker, as we descend into needless political bickering instead of stabilizing Iraq and preparing ourselves for future military fighting.

One other thing; I’m sure a lot of people think that the robot jumping into the river is going to convince people to commit suicide. But it won’t. If a person wants to commit suicide, they’re going to do it whether we like it or not. It’s not because of a robot jumbing into a river, it’s probably because their life sucks, or they think their life sucks, or they want to quit working, or they just want to end their life. What are you suggesting? That GM is trying to sell suicide, rather than its shoddy cars? Or do you just need something to complain about, because the ASPC, like PETA, has PMS?

I know if you’ve read this far, you hate what I’ve had to say. Good. Maybe that means I got to speak my mind. Something ASPC needs to learn to respect. After all, if I had the ability, there wouldn’t be a debate. The people laughed, ASPC. Now be quiet.

Building… A True Luigiian Republic

(The following is an excerpt from a speech the Governor of the Luigiian Republic gave to The University of the Luigiian Republic. Reprinted here and on MOCPages.com with his permission.)

You know, as Lego designers, we always tend to put emphasis on design rather than function. We build big, beautiful houses and models that no minifigure could ever use. In short, we do it for ourselves.

And yet, as Luigiville grows exponentially larger every day, I’ve worked to change that. Instead of just building structures that look good, mine are intended primarily as… well… houses. In other words, buildings Lego minifigures can use.

“But”, you say, “they’re dead. As in not alive. Why build something nobody will ever use?”

My point exactly, which is why I’ve worked hard to automate, robotize, and give a voice to these little mute plastic men we put in our cities. For me, pretend movement isn’t enough: I want Sims that are there, in front of me, in real life, not on a screen.

The name “Luigiian Republic” isn’t a misnomer. I work to make pseudo-campaigns for Governor, and come up with statistics using random number generators and such. I try to give voice to them that way. And of course, it didn’t work very well at first, because back then I’d make a person’s “voice” using a roll of the dice, assuming that people choose in an election campaign at the drop of a hat, with no other rhyme or reason. It was hard, boring, tedious, and difficult to use.

In my last “election”, I used an Excel sheet, only by then I had significantly changed the system. Instead of just using it like a “virtual dice”, I used the program’s random number generator to make various viewpoints on various issues. For example, first was the random number I would use for the minifig’s Social Security number. Then, above all this, the columns would be, for example, “sexuality”, “political affiliation”, “Hunting and Fishing”, “Sports”, “Computers”, “Random” (for random events on election day), and, of course, the ever-present “Immigration” issue. For each of these, I’d assign a random number between -3 and 3, and, excepting “Random”, would copy, and Paste Value Only (otherwise it keeps randomizing, and I wanted to keep these opinions fairly consistent). More negative was liberal on that issue (or hobby; assuming that some hobbies naturally breed political opinions, and others would harbor friendships changing such opinions), whereas more positive was more conservative. Then, I’d use its AutoSum feature to sum up each person’s opinion, convert each one into only it’s value +1 or -1 (Excel is capable of doing all of this, and I appreciated that), and use that as the person’s “vote.” I put myself as the liberal, and my opponent, Luigi Mario of the opposition party, as the conservative. (Ironically, there are more liberals than conservatives in Luigiville. Even more ironically, the west side Luigiville Districts were liberal; easterners were more conservative.)

Believe it or not, I’m going to carry this even further, as if my social life could get worse than to be similar to a mad scientist cooped up in his parents’ basement all night. But to do this, I have to find an even more powerful program, such as BASIC or C++. But I need to know exactly what I’ll need for such basic applications as adding, for example, values like “Taxes” up each year automatically. The program mostly needs to do all of the above, plus add up things like taxes and income, which means that it has to be able to perform certain functions automatically, without me telling me to do it. Like, each Friday, each person automatically has a certain amount added to his money account, and each week on Saturday, a certain amount is subtracted for “groceries”, each month for “Taxes”, each year for “Opinion Poll”, and so on. What program do you think is right for me?

I personally think “Psychotherapy” is the answer. But, hey, you never know.