Cave Adventure

Ben is wandering through a cave with a torch.

BEN: Wow, this cave is dark. Thank goodness for this torch.

Dracula suddenly appears.

DRACULA: Bleh! What are you doing in my cave?
BEN: I was driving along, and I saw this cave, so I figured I'd check it out.
DRACULA: OK, that makes sense, I suppose.... Then where did you get that torch?
BEN: From the guy selling torches back there.
DRACULA: I see. ... Perhaps I shall suck his blood.
BEN: Um...he said he didn't have any.
DRACULA: Any blood?
BEN: Yeah, that's right.
DRACULA: Did he say where it went?
BEN: Not really, no.
DRACULA: Hmm...is there something you're not telling me?
BEN: Uh....
DRACULA: You didn't take it, did you?
BEN: No, um, I think he said it went on vacation.
DRACULA: Drat!
BEN: Yeah, sorry.
DRACULA: Are you sure he said "vacation" and not "train station"?
BEN: Moderately sure. I guess you could go down to the train station and check.
DRACULA: No, it would probably be gone by the time I got there.
BEN: Yes, the trains do run promptly in this country.
DRACULA: That's very true. Our public works system is quite admirable.
BEN: See, at least you got that, right?
DRACULA: You're right. Though I would prefer blood.
BEN: You can have my torch if you want.
DRACULA: Why, thank you!
BEN: SIKE!

Evening Naps

I just woke up, and it's dark outside.

I'm guessing a few of you know the incredibly disorienting feeling of falling asleep while it's still light out and waking up when it's dark. It feels like whole days have passed. At least I don't have a long, white beard. I can be grateful for that.

I suddenly have no idea what to do with my life. Sleep does terrible things to a man.

A Lunch That Will Live in Awesomeness

Had a great lunch today with a trio of friends, and it was great. We had a lot of laughs about basketball, $5 dates, and Challenge Printing, but I think we can all agree that the highlight of the lunch was my spicy chicken tender wrap.

It's only the second wrap I've ever had, and I think I'm in love with them. The combination of delicious meat, fresh lettuce, sprouts, onions, and salad dressing can't be found anywhere else (other than perhaps a salad or soup), and then it's all wrapped up for you in a tortilla! Perfect!

The other three got paninis, and they're all right, I guess. I can dig a grilled sandwich every now and then. But it falls short of the majesty of a wrap. The wrap is crisp and energizing, but the panini is soggy and full of mushrooms. The panini is the lowly Sancho Panza to the wrap's noble Don Quixote.

Literary references and delicious food together at last! Best lunch yet!

Because I'm Smarter Than You

I get the sense that a few "intellectuals" out there need to be taken down a notch. Chances are, you're not as smart as you think you are, buddy, so you stop spouting it out your pie-hole. That's right, I'm talking YOU, smart guys:

Albert Einstein: I find it personally insulting that you imply time travel is possible without building us a time machine. You say you want to revolutionize science, but then you quit halfway. I know another guy who did that. His name was Bill Buckner. You, Einstein, are the Bill Buckner of physics.

Stephen Hawking: If you're so smart, how come you can't move your legs? Hey, look at my legs move! Look at 'em! They must be smarter than yours cuz they know how to move!

Al Gore: I gotta say, it takes a monumentally incompetent person to lose an election that he technically won. And I'm not even going to get into the paradox of guesting on Futurama but not The Simpsons. You may be right about global warming, but that doesn't cut the mustard in this intellectual community.

Leonard da Vinci: While "art" rhymes with "smart," the two are completely unrelated in every other conceivable way. I know you did science stuff too, but a helicopter bike? Get real, pal. That code, on the other hand, is pure genius. Unfortunately for you, the credit for that goes to Dan Brown.

A New Way

As wasting time at work has become increasingly challenging, I must find new ways to meet that challenge. Thankfully, as yesterday was the 43rd anniversary of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech, I discovered an amazing section of Wikipedia: The List of Great Speeches. It is now my personal goal to read every one of these.

So far, I only read "I have a dream" and Winston Churchill's "We shall fight on the beaches," but wow. These guys knew how to say something. Words that still inpsire to this day impress me greatly, and both these speeches stir me up like that. Even Churchill's, which is so deeply rooted in wartime, rings true now.

"We shall never surrender." You got that right, Churchy.

The Recap of the Future

This weekend is going to be a busy weekend. I've got a dual birthday celebration on Saturday, then some time with the homeless followed by a black tie Emmy party on Sunday. I'm worried that I won't have time to blog about it, but because I'm sure you'd all love to hear the story, I'm going to blog about it now (before any of it happens).

On Saturday we went to Valleyfair for Christine's golden birthday. I insisted that we spend the entire day riding the antique cars, but I refused to drive them. I just sat in the back telling people where to turn and that they should try to get off the track. So we only rode them twice (weak). Then we rode the Corkscrew and I got sick so I went home.

Around 4:30 a bunch of guys came over to my house for Jess's birthday. We spent most of the evening playing shoot-em-up video games while listening to classical music, a juxtaposition I always wanted to experiment with but never got around to (because I've been too busy with the ant farms). We ordered like seven pizzas, and we didn't eat five of them, so we had a food fight with the remaining slices. It was all great until somebody slipped and broke the coffee table. We spent the rest of the night rebuilding the coffee table.

The afternoon before the Emmy party I went out to rent a tux (big mistake). Turns out you're supposed to go in for the fitting like a week before you need it. I threw a little fit, and while they were distracted I nabbed one of the display mannequins and ran. The cops were busy talking to the girl at the pretzel shop, so I got away clean. Unfortunately, the tux didn't fit, but the mannequin made for a good party decoration.

And then I went to sleep and dreamt of the sugarplum fairies.

Short People

I am not a tall person. I would describe myself as "average height." Maybe that's why I'm fascinated by short people (and concurrently wishing I was a little bit taller).

I speak not of midgets. Midgets are boring. (I'm sure they're great people, but this entry isn't about what people are like. It's about how tall they are.) Everybody talks about midgets. Big freaking deal. So you're three feet tall. I used to be three feet tall. I've been there. It's not that great.

I'm more interested in the 4'11" to 5'5" range. I don't know why. Can't explain it. Maybe it's an artistic obsession. Yeah, I think that's what I'll call it.

This post was inspired by someone questioning my awe over Matt Pryor's shortness. I responded to her accusations saying a bunch of stuff that included, "I love short people more than regular people." That was out of line, and I apologize. I love them both equally.

What's Happening to Me?

Normal people go through blogging droughts. No one out there hits you with updates with reliable consistency all the time. But for me to go one whole weekday without any kind of entry is not only unheard of, it's enough to make me question why I'm alive. Who am I if not an overwhelmingly prolific blogger?

Quite simply I haven't been inspired. That's not to say there's been a shortage of things to write about. I just haven't had the presence of mind to present them to you in an interesting way. You may feel like you're missing out, but how do you think it makes me feel? Not good, I tell ya.

It's like I'm Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Dr. Jekyll's all funny and outspoken and an enjoyable person to be around. Mr. Hyde, however, is boring and sleepy all the time. I hate Mr. Hyde. Maybe he'll go away if I drink more smokey, bubbling beverages. As long as they're not green. That's what started this whole mess.

Finally Someone Who Loves Their Birthday as Much as Me

HAPPY GOLDEN BIRTHDAY CHRISTINE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I did a google image search for a picture of her (because I don't have any at work), and the only one I found was of some guy with a giant forehead that I can't upload. So instead, imagine pictures of gold and more exclamation points.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!

Grab Bag

Here are some things I've wanted to talk about for a while but haven't been long-winded enough to spin a whole post about.

1. I feel really awkward carrying a package of toilet paper to my car from the Eden Prairie mall. The rich people look at you like they don't have to wipe anything ever. Maybe they have bidets.

2. I also feel really awkward looking at skin care products that I don't understand. I felt a little less awkward than usual this time because there were a couple guys browsing them with me. I wanted to put my arms around them and have a bonding moment over our cluelessness.

3. No matter how excited I am about Justin Timberlake's new album, I cannot get over the terrible title. FutureSex? That's so...uncreative. He was off to a good start with Justified--what an awesome pun--and now this. Maybe he figures we'll all buy it no matter what. Well, he's right. As long as it's got those delicious beats, it could be called I Love Hitler and I'd still buy four.

Let's Talk About Underwear

I know I told some of you it was Prayer Day, and it still is, but you always gotta make room for underwear even on important days like this. Am I right?

I just noticed that the tag on my underpants says "Classics." What's so classic about underwear? Is it that it's the one consistent mainstay of mankind's wardrobe (though I'd argue for socks)? Is it that they go well with tuxedos and other formal wear? Is it that they were made in ancient Rome?

And another thing. Fruit of the Loom is a very confusing brand name. For the longest time, I was convinced that my underpants were made of fruit. Or that they would always smell like grapes and strawberries. Neither of these things are true, and I am very disappointed.

The Plot Thickens

Recently at one of my team meetings, we opened up our new "suggestion tube" and perused the suggestions given by our teammates. None of them were actually suggestions; they were more along the lines of "I hate it here," and "Give me candy!"

Two comments were particularly curious, one referring to a past meeting as "corporate BS" and another saying that same meeting made him/her feel like "a naughty child being chastized." These comments were anonymous and have since set my coworker Steve on a mission to figure out who the "culprits" are.

It's altogether pointless, but intrigue is fun in and of itself. Steve's been sending out emails laying out the plot, who the suspects are, the motives. It's great. Our own little inter-office manhunt!

I'm sorry that none of you enjoy this but me, but just think of it like Clue: Office Edition. It was Mrs. Jones in the Conference Room with the Stapler!

It's Officially Official

I made it official last night. Called up the Peace Corps office and told them to forget about me. It's over. Now I'm focusing my energies on whatever I decided to stay here for.

It's unfortunate that I didn't call the guy during the day, but I really didn't want to talk to him. He kept calling and harrassing me. "We need your transcripts, Mr. Robison." I'm not gonna answer a kind-natured phone call gently encouraging me to get my documents in on time! Leave me alone!

Yesterday, a coworker and I brainstormed ideas about how I could change my voicemail message on my phone to give the Peace Corps the message. Here are some examples.

"Hi, this is Ben, and I lost my arms and one leg on one of those log-sawing things. Which means I no longer have the physical ability to answer the phone or join the Peace Corps."

"Hi, this is who used to be Ben, but is now Beth. If this is the Peace Corps calling, please send me a new application so I can restart my application process as a female."

"Hi, this is Robert. If this is the Peace Corps, I'm sorry to say that you're a victim of the most awesome prank I've ever pulled. Ben Robison was a fake personality I made up, and I completely lied through every step of the application process. I rule!"

"Hi, this is Ben. If you would like to learn how to traffic women and young children, press 1. If you would like to purchase weapons of mass destruction, press 2. If you are interested in organizing a terrorist attack, press 3. If this is the Peace Corps, please press 4 and I will call you back to discuss the status of my application."

"Hi, this is Ben, and I'm sorry, but I won't be able to return your call for the next few months while I run from the German secret police. But leave a message anyway. Oh--oh crap! [gunshots, German yelling] Oh man! They got me! [German voices] No, let me finish the message. No, please!---"

Stop Working

A cowoker and I were just discussing how much we disliked calling people for surveys (a part of the job I don't think I've told any of you about). We don't like it, but we don't have any good reason not to like it. They're pretty easy, and they don't take much time, and we only need to finish two per day. But still.

I haven't done any surveys all week, and it's because I'm too happy. And if happiness is opposed to the work I do, maybe I shouldn't do it. That doesn't mean I should quit. I just shouldn't work.

Brohims

A few minutes ago, I was just chillin' at work, waiting to pick up all the stupid overflow calls, when the phone rings like usuals. I answer it like usual with the whole "how can I help you?" deal, and from the other end comes this outrageous call:

"Benhameeeeen!"

There's only one person I know who does this, and it was great to hear from my buddy Jordan. For a second I wondered how he got my work number, and then I remembered that it's in my signature that was included at the end of the email I sent to him earlier today. But talk about the supreme coolness of getting a surprise call on your work phone from a good friend you haven't talked to in months.

We ended up talking about something that happened a long time ago that was kind of embarrassing for him. (The story appears on Miss Sarah Anne's blog.) We realized how we've grown up a lot since our indiscriminate utterances of those days, but I felt bad for bringing it up. So Jordan, if you're reading this, note that most of that entry is about how great we are for cleaning and singing. In addition, your singing provided one of the top 3 moments of the New Orleans trip. "Don't believe me, ask the dishes!"

Good times.

Finding an Adequate Way to Waste the Next 3 Hours of My Life

Perhaps it's a self-fulfilling prophecy, but these three weeks before the beginning of September are already the longest three weeks of forever. Yesterday felt like Tuesday. Today feels like Thursday. I guess I'm just doomed.

So when three weeks are impossible, how does one pass three hours? All the standards have once again worn themselves out, so I'm left to my creative (and unfortunately violent) wiles. I'm thinking something along the lines of the Plauges of Egypt. One of the great things about the internet is that you can order locusts at wholesale prices without getting out of your chair!

Everybody's Irish

I am just about fed up with everybody thinking they're Irish. While it's true that nearly everyone is part-Irish, not everyone should claim that as part of their descent. The thing about the Irish is that they are America. Saying you're part Irish is like saying you're American. Big deal. So is everybody else who lives here. In my pompous and self-serving opinion, you should only claim Irishness if you've got 33% or more of the blood of the Liffey in ya.

But now I wonder...are the Irish really that big of sluts to get their genes into the population of the entire country? Maybe so, and I think it's impressive. Ranks up there with mankind's greatest achievements. The Rennaissance, the Theory of Relativity, the Seeding of the Irish in America. Go Ireland!

Everybody Loves Me

I just got back from my mid-year review with my boss, and apparently everybody in this company loves me. I'm just as surprised as you. It's a good feeling, but I'm also a little torn. I mean, it's not like I care about this company (something my boss acknowledged and even encouraged in our meeting), so I don't really care what they think, but hearing things like that makes me want to stay here forever. Or at least another six months.

Also, there's this girl who likes me, and we're together now. So there's that too. It's pretty awesome.

God in the Movies

My church is gonna start a series on "God in the Movies" in a couple months. They're doing a big ad campaign, so it's a big deal. Yay church!

However, if I were in charge of church, and for what I'm about to write we can thank everyone in every area of influence that I'm not, I would have chosen some different movies. Like...

The Blues Brothers: They're on a mission from God. What else do you have to say?

Lawrence of Arabia: The man thinks he is God. That's...blasphemy. But blasphemy is a God-related concept.

2001: A Space Odyssey: I could definitely BS something about God from this abstract adventure. I could also probably BS something about Vietnam, industrialized coal mining, or the social behavior of bees, but that's beside the point.

Brokeback Mountain: Ummmm...let's not.

Monty Python and the Holy Grail: God sends the knights on a quest, but they keep getting into trouble. Is that because man is inept or because God is a cosmic practical joker? Neither. If you haven't seen the movie, I won't give away the correct answer, but I will tell you this: it has something to do with the French.

There will, however, be talks on Cinderella Man, Batman Begins, and like two more that I keep forgetting. While they might not be as good as talks on the above films, they'll still have some good stuff. Or whatever. I don't know.

Really Big Deal

This is post #300. I made a big deal out of #100, and a semi-big deal about #200 (but Keanu-Yaris was a little disappointing, even for me), but I don't really care that much for the third century. So that subject line is a lie. It's just a regular milestone. I've acknowledged it, it's passed, so now let's move on.

I would like to point out, though, that if I manage to post 65 times before November (which is very likely to happen), I will averaged one post a day for the entire year. Impressive, huh? That's me. Impressive.

They Tore Down the Berlin Wall; or, Freedom! Horrible, Horrible Freedom!

Yesterday the mechanism that blocks all the fun websites at work finally crashed. Suddenly we have access to web-based email, fantasy sports, online games, uncensored news, western music, and the truth. I'd cry tears of joy if years of soul-crushing corporate domination hadn't robbed me of the ability to feel.

But it's strange. Now that I have access to all this stuff, I almost don't want to use it. Partly because of the deeply ingrained fear of the higher-ups who might discover my illegal internet use, partly because I've been trained so long not to use it that using it doesn't even feel like an option. It's like when you release all the people from the mental institution, and the outside world is so foreign to them that they prefer to stay inside the walls. It's exactly like that.

Anyways, the point of all this is that I'll be on that gmail chat thing more often now.

Books Are the Hip New Thing

Nicole nabs some pretty interesting survey-thingies, and since I'm a lit nerd, this one was impossible to resist. And because I sincerely love literature, I'm answering these questions sincerely.

1. One book that changed your life: Starting out with the toughest question. Geez. Excluding the obvious (Bible), I'll go with Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer. It completely changed what I thought writing should be like. Runner-up would be James Joyce's Ulysses solely for the reason that I can talk about it and sound important.

2. One book that you've read more than once: There have only been two, I think, and I just mentioned one of them. The other is Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad, which I read three times. Gets better every time. "The horror" still echoes with me. It's amazing.

3. One book you’d want on a desert island: I think I'd go with Finnegans Wake, to double up on the Joyce references. I dig Nicole's idea of having something difficult to understand to keep you busy, and I think that this book would make me feel comfortable about going insane.

4. One book that made you laugh: A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers, which I ended up not liking. It's got some laugh-out-loud moments, which are rare in books, but overall it gets unpleasantly self-indulgent. I got to a point where the story was meaningless to me because he made it so much about him.

5. One book that made you cry: Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck is the only one I remember crying during. I was a freshman in high school, emotionally vulnerable, etc. But it's still a heart-rending book.

6. One book that you wish had been written: I don't know. I don't like this question. If I can think of a book that doesn't exist that I want to exist, I'd probably try to write. And then I'd give up. And that story would make for a terrible book.

7. One book that you wish had never been written: I have a fair amount of animosity toward The DaVinci Code, but I more wish it had never been read than never been written. That book is the readers' fault. I say Jane Eyre. What a waste of my time that book was.

8. One book you’re currently reading: If on a winter's night a traveler by Italo Calvino. And actually, it's a bunch of books. Hard to explain, and at this point it's not worth explaining.

9. One book you’ve been meaning to read: Just one? Well, I just bought The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman by Laurence Sterne, and I'm pretty excited for that. It has one of the best first sentences I ever read, but it's much too long and sprawling to quote here. But it's wonderful. I suggest you find it and read it.

What the Human Body Means to Me

I went to that Body Worlds exhibit at the Science Museum last night. First of all let me say that science is useless. And now on with the story.

The exhibit was almost entirely boring. You see a lot of organs. Big deal. I can see organs in my 7th grade health textbook. And I would have gotten a better view in the textbook because I wouldn't be edged out and pushed around by the biggest, most obnoxious crowd ever.

There are also standing bodies in bizarre poses, and that was just confusing. One guy was in a running pose with all his muscles strung out off the skeleton in every direction. As far as I know, that never happens. There was also a body called "The Goalkeeper" who was posed in a sideways dive with a soccer ball in one hand and all his internal organs in the other. What's with that?

I won't say anything that I seriously thought about it, other than I was seriously indifferent and seriously unenlightened. And at the end we went to a gift shop, and I bought a shirt that said "Give a hoot, Don't pollute" because I like to rhyme.

Problems With Posting

I plan to post a lot in quick succession today, but there's a problem. My company is occasionally deciding to block the publishing of my posts. This ended with me somehow publishing my last post somewhere around six times. And to fix that problem, I ended up deleting one of the posts that was not multiply published.

So now, let us mourn the loss of "More Adventures in Outer Space."

Things I remember about that post: Spaceman Ben beat the space octopus in checkers, and the space octopus got angry, so Spaceman Ben decided to let him win next time. Sort of reminds me of Star Wars when R2-D2 beat Chewie at that one holographic chess game. Then there was something about dumping garbage into the sun, I think. And at the end Spaceman Ben thought he was getting a space cold, and he was scared that he would die.

If anyone would like to say any words about the one we lost, feel free.

Major Life Event Summary

It's been an uncharacteristically long time since you guys have had anything to read here. I'm not sorry. There's been a lot going on, and I haven't had time to satisfy your ravenous hunger for "words." Here's that which has been keeping me busy to tide you guys over for the meantime.

1. I'm not joining the Peace Corps. I've done a lot of thinking and praying about it, and I feel like I belong here more. I learned to appreciate all my friends and everything here, and I'm starting to realize how much they appreciate me (thanks guys!), so it's more important for me to stay and be a part of their lives. And also I feel compelled to get more involved in the church. And all of these are kind of at odds with being out of the country for two years.

2. Jeopardy tournament of champions. I'm in it. It's been an enormous committment from filming the show to studying to putting up with Alex's constant whining. Interesting fact, though. They don't actually have that question board on the set. It's blue-screened in. They just have a chalkboard. Like when you played Jeopardy in elementary school.

3. [Secret]

4. Superpowers. I just discovered a couple nights ago that I can fly and lift really heavy things. So I've been experimenting with that, seeing what I can do, what friends I can play pranks on. Haven't actually gotten to the pranks part yet, but I've got a few good ideas. Does juggling buses count as a prank?

5. Not eating. For the past two-three days, I've only had enough food to count for about two meals. If that. So, to set your concerns at bay, I AM NOT ANOREXIC. I'm just a little sick. Or so it would seem. Also, I DO NOT KNOW IF I SPELLED ANOREXIC CORRECTLY.

6. New dog. I got a dog. Its name is not Seattle, though I've always wanted to name my dog Seattle. It's an Irish Setter puppy (I only buy Irish), and I'm calling it Murphy after the "whatever can go wrong will go wrong" guy.


Note: Only the odd numbered ones are true.

Don't Take it From Me

Listen to my pal Murgatroyd.

Dear Murgatroyd,
My wife and I are planning on taking a vacation for Labor Day weekend, but we don't know where to go! Any ideas?
Signed,
Destinationless in Detroit

Dear Destinationless,
May I suggest Santa Fe, New Mexico? That's where my garage is. I got a sweet stereo set up there, and plenty of Sabbath and Motorhead so I can ROCK OUT. But if you aren't into garages, you could always go to HELL.
Love,
Murgatroyd

Dear Murgatroyd,
What's your favorite candy bar?
Signed,
Audrey Little

Dear Audrey,
I hate candy!
Love,
Murgatroyd

Dear Murgatroyd,
My grandpa said he saw you at the Star Trek convention. Is he a liar?
Signed,
Roger McGillicuddy

Dear Roger,
Your grandfather is definitely a liar, but not because he said he saw me at the Star Trek convention. That statement is true. I am Dr. McCoy's biggest fan! He is the baddest.
Love,
Murgatroyd

Changing My Name

It's been clear for a couple years now that my theme song is "My Name Is Jonas" by Weezer. I have a box full of your toys, my little brother sends me letters full of concerns about the building, and I often invite people to come sit next to me and pour themselves some tea. But there's always been one thing standing in the way of accepting this as my true anthem: my name is not Jonas.

I don't think I could change my name to Jonas. It's a thought I'll have to throw around for the next year or two before I can be sure, but it's doubtful. Not that I like the name Ben--I've never liked the name Ben; it sounds funny--but name changes are just so inauthentic. So I think I'll just have to name one of my kids Jonas. Then I can rock out when he's in the car singing, "His name is Jonas," and really annoy him and his friends.

Point/Counterpoint: Naps

There's nothing better than a good nap.
I like to nap. It refreshes the soul whenever the soul needs refreshing. One of my favorite things about napping is that you can nap anytime you want. You can nap in the morning, the afternoon, or the evening, and each naptime is just as good as the rest. You don't have to be tired to nap, either. You can just nap and feel good about it. I nap pretty much every day, and it's easily the highlight. I carry around a nap mat or a cot in case the need to nap hits me while I'm on the street. If I have to, I nap when I'm driving, and thanks to the new nap safety features in some cars, I always make it home fine. I don't think I could live without napping. Society just needs to be more open to napping, too. Have naptime in the office, set up mandatory nap stops on the highways, even open a napper's rights committee. Equal naps for all.

If you sleep, you're lazy.
There's too much work to be done to find time to sleep. Sometimes I can squeeze in 3 or 4 hours at night, but napping? Are you crazy? I have to do the grocery shopping, take the kids to school, bake a cake for my sister's birthday, visit the rock climbing wall, settle my debts with the mob, paint three or four masterpieces, pick the kids up from school, make love with the spouse, fix the electricity for the whole neighborhood, read the Weekly World News, make sure the black market smuggling and ivory dealing ring are still prospering, and maybe watch a movie. And even if I could fit a nap in there, I wouldn't. I'd rather take the dog for a walk, or build an addition to the house, or try to assassinate Fidel Castro, or experiment with controlled substances to help me stay awake longer. Sleep is for the weak. A wise man once said, "I'll sleep when I'm dead," but why start then?

Adventures in Outer Space

The Diaries of Spaceman Ben

August 1, 2006

It's pretty cold in space. A lot of people don't know that, I think. That's why all those astronauts wear those big suits. They keep you warm. The space game is pretty tough to get right, but at least they nailed the warmth thing. I probably would have just installed a car heater, but that's why I'm not a rocket scientist.

And the food up here is pretty awful. They just gave us a couple vats of Tang and like a year's supply of wafer cookies. I'd give practically anything for a freeze-dried steak right now. Or some tacos. What other foods can you eat in zero gravity? Venison?

The space octopus dropped by again last night. I'm grateful for the company, but he's starting to get on my nerves. He always complains about his space octopus kids, how they always leave their roller skates out or keep stealing his keys. Last night he went on and on about how they wouldn't take a bath. OK, space octopus, I get it, but I'm trying to watch the Super Bowl. Good thing he sucks at checkers or I wouldn't be able to tolerate him at all.

Infinite Vs. Not Infinite

A Conversation

Finite: Whoa, where'd you come from?
Infinite: I've always been here.
Finite: Since when?
Infinite: Since forever.
Finite: How come I never seen you before then?
Infinite: I don't know.
Finite: I'm not stupid, if that's what you're saying.
Infinite: That's not what I'm saying.
Finite: Why do you keep talking like that?
Infinite: I always talk like this.
Finite: Then maybe you're the one who's stupid.
Infinite: No.
Finite: Geez. No wonder you don't have any friends.
Infinite: I have friends.
Finite: Then what are their names?
Infinite: Um...Hiram, Worcestershire, uh...Led Zeppelin.
Finite: Dude.
Infinite: Of course they're real.
Finite: I didn't say they weren't.
Infinite: Yes you did. (pause) Oh wait.
Finite: You're a tool.
Infinite: Shut up.
Finite: So anyway, can I borrow your boat?
Infinite: I don't have a boat.
Finite: Then what's that over there?
Infinite: Somebody else's boat.
Finite: GAH! (disappears)

Teenagers Want To Be Depressed

Today I rolled to work to the tune of Dashboard Confessional. Five to six years ago, that would have been a total party, but today it was just confusing. You see, I'm a generally happy person, and listening to such deliberately depressing music doesn't make sense to me anymore.

Then I discovered why Dashboard is popular. Marketing genius Chris Carrabba realized that the overwhelming majority of teenagers 1) are depressed and 2) like music. From there, he probably thought he could make some music that capitalized on that depression, but he wanted to take it further than that. He figured his music could do more than exploit--it could create a feedback loop. Depressed kids listen to the music and feel more depressed, thus requiring more music. So they buy the albums, come to the shows, and purchase the merchandise. It's a neverending cycle of depressed teenagers and money flowing into Carrabba's blood-stained fists.

Of course, then CC got stupid and decided to make a happy song ("Hands Down"). All the kids woke from their hypnotic stupor, and you haven't heard from Dashboard since.

And that's how emo nearly destroyed America.

Welcome To August

In celebration of August Day, the day on which we celebrate the month of August, I've decided to throw a blog party. Everybody's invited! And bring your friends!

We'll have punch. And a petting zoo. With goats. Man, I love goats. And there'll be one of those bouncy rooms. You know what I'm talking about. Or maybe we'll just get a trampoline. Then we could put the goats on the trampoline. That would be awesome. Oh, and we'll definitely have some clowns. I'll tell them to bring their invisible dog, too.

To top it all off, though, there must be the traditional August Day mushroom toss.


Happy August Day, everybody!