11.30.2007

Science Part II: The Revenge

Science and I have this thing. Most people don't understand our relationship, and that's OK. If there's one thing I've learned from this vain life, it's that you'll never understand science. Especially not his cruel sense of humor.

It all started in 8th grade when we had a lesson on the weather in science class. I didn't know the answer, so my friend and I agreed to cheat off each other. Turns out Science took offense at that, so he killed my friend with a model of the solar system. What's worse, he tried to frame me for the murder. Lucky for me there were a bunch of witnesses who saw him do it. But I guess Science has diplomatic immunity for some reason and can't be prosecuted for anything in the United States.

Of course, I had to get him back. The next winter, I went to his house on a really cold night and sprayed the house with a hose for about 6 hours. It was so worth it. The whole thing got covered in ice, and it was so thick he could barely open his door. I heard later that the structure was permanently damaged and he could never heat his house properly after that. I guess he was just renting that place, but whatever.

There was a long series of pranks over the next few years, but after the death toll reached somewhere around 20, we realized that we had let our egos get out of control. It wasn't about the irony anymore. It was about the sheer thrill of breaking the law and not getting caught. We made a truce, he moved to Morocco, and we figured that would be that.

So imagine my surprise when I get out to my car this morning and find that the water bottle I left in there overnight was now completely frozen. That's the hand of science if I've ever seen it. Not to mention that my car was upside down, it said "SCIENCE RULZ" on my car door, and there were a half dozen dead bodies in my trunk. As much as I hated taking the bus today and almost getting peed on while I waited for it, that's a great prank.

11.29.2007

No More Presidents

The Republican debate was on last night, and it was disappointing. Whatever happened to the stunt competition? And the Parade of Candidates? Petting zoo? Campaigns just aren't fun anymore.

The debate taught my friends and me a few things about politics, though. Or I guess it didn't teach us this stuff--we mostly inferred it from what we thought was happening.

1. VP stands for Vampire President. I don't know if that means our VPs are vampires themselves or if they just have authority over the vampires. Either way, they still mean nothing to me.

2. Men love torture. Thanks to CNN's breakthroughs in polling technology, we got to see a second-by-second graph of the audience's reactions to the debate. They broke it down by gender. When somebody said that he opposed torture, the "men" line went down at least two points. I'm guessing that a significant portion of the guys were disappointed to learn that they were not watching 24.

3. Not voting is better than voting. Let's get serious, people. This government charade has gone on long enough. We don't want anybody to be president for the next four years. Elect nobody! Don't vote or die!

4. Anderson Cooper is not running for president. Or maybe he is. I really couldn't tell.

5. Names matter. We didn't know the names of half the people on that stage. This isn't a low-budget indie film, America. We need name recognition. Star power. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's all we need. Don't tell me about how you saved that war memorial--just yell your name at me a few times.

Split Personalities

Employable Ben is back! Just like the real Ben before him!

Looks like we're in for a good mystery in the life of Employable Ben. I should know. Because it's me.

11.28.2007

A World Gone Wrong

The United Nations just released its Human Development Index (and I would link to it, but I don't feel like linking anything today). Apparently, this ranks countries on how desirable it is to live there. The major criteria seem to be real estate values and the percent of the population with mad cow disease. Just like everything else the UN does, I don't understand it.

I'm going to avoid the majority of the innumerable absurdities of this list (People prefer Canada over Ireland? Has the whole world gone insane?) and jump straight to Africa. As if the continent didn't have it bad enough already, now it's statistically documented that it's the worst place to live in the world. Heck, if they rated the sun as a place to live, Africa would still lose. There's no AIDS epidemic on the sun.

What's weirdest, though, is the bizarre nationalism that every country takes up in response to this. Nigeria's newspaper has a headline declaring that Nigeria ranks 158th (out of something like 175), which is one step up from last year. The Malta Independent touts Malta's 34 ranking, and the article's a lot more self-important about it than Nigeria's (understandably, I guess). Nepal's headline announced it's 142 spot, but it saves face by justifying it's 6-place drop as a "statistical adjustment."

I just wasted everybody's time, didn't I?

Gingerbread House

I just ate some delicious gingerbread cake and gingersnaps, and never have I been so glad that I do not live in a gingerbread house. The nice thing about living in a house made of whatever it is real houses are made of is that they can't be eaten.

Not that I would eat an edible house. I would just be worried that it wouldn't hold up in the elements. The rain would corrode the walls, and the roof would leak like crazy. I can't imagine it'd retain heat very well even with the cotton candy insulation. I can see why that crazy lady from Hansel and Gretel wanted to build her house out of baked children.

Let's be honest, though. If I didn't eat my house, the dogs would. So I would most definitely eat it. That'll show those stupid dogs who's boss.

11.27.2007

The Ice Age

There are only two or three things I hate more than cold, and I can only remember one of them right now (it's Starship). Today the cold is making a move to take over that top spot. This is nature's payback for the groundhog not seeing his shadow last February.

On freezing days like these, people like to laugh at Al Gore for this whole "global warming" hoo ha. I have no problem with laughter, but we have a serious problem here, and it has nothing to do with the planet getting warmer. Or maybe it does. How would I know? I'm no Paul Douglas.

Enough talk. People are freezing to death. Check out what happened to this cowboy I know:

He died doing what he loved.
We need to look at how people survived the Ice Age or there's no way that we'll make it through this week. I'm gonna get my hands on as many woolly elephant pelts as I can find and hole up in that igloo until April. I'll see you in the spring, or, assuming one of us doesn't make it, never again.

11.26.2007

5-0-0

I'm pretty sure this is post 500. That's not really a testament to anything. I know a lot of people who've posted more times than that. Good for them. So what distinguishes me from the rest of the pack?

A 500 ft monument.

Or it will distinguish me once it's finished. The slaves have been quite a bit behind schedule, what with the early winter. I think they're taking me less seriously as a slave-driver since I never follow through on my threats to take away their breakfast. I can't help that I love making pancakes!

Here's a picture of the site.

If you stare at it long enough, you can see something.

Just imagine an enormous statue of 60 penguins stacked on top of each other right where those haystacks are.

Et Tu, Alarm Clock?

This weekend was great in at least one way: sleeping in for four straight days. Not one day did I wake up before 9. It was, to put it modestly, excellent in every imaginable way. Sleeping in is like winning 20 gold medals in a single Olympics. It's like being elected president of every prosperous nation and never having to deal with any problems. It's like living on the moon, if the moon was a lush paradise of a planet instead of a harsh, deadly wasteland.

But with every long weekend comes the inevitable Monday (or in the case of Memorial Day, the inevitable Tuesday), and that Monday is today. I knew it was coming, and I thought I was prepared. But I did not expect my horrid alarm clock to go off. By the second shrill beep, my spirit was crushed. It was as if God was sounding the trumpet of Judgment Day. Actually, it wasn't like that at all, but I was really annoyed that I had to get up about 3 hours earlier than I had any of the past four days.

So now I don't have an alarm clock anymore. That's right, I smashed it. I would say I have no regrets, but that line is taken. Plus I have several regrets.

11.21.2007

Invisible Thanksgiving

This morning, my friend Lee and I got together for breakfast. We mostly talked about invisibility. We both concluded that we wanted to be invisible for Thanksgiving.

Unfortunately, since Thanksgiving is less than 30 hours away, I don't have enough time to bake my traditional invisibility turkey. Somebody suggested deep frying it, but deep-fried invisibility turkey doesn't work. Well, the invisibility part works, but the deep frier does something to the formula that makes you really sick. So you'll end up being invisible by the toilet all day, which is definitely not as much fun as being invisible at the zoo or Cuba.

So to be invisible this Thanksgiving, I'm going to have to go use some more primitive methods. Either I need to swallow ten to twenty pounds of tin foil, or I need to beat a 5-foot-3, 165-pound living retired Mongolian basketball player in a game of chess. I should probably do both just to be safe.

11.20.2007

The Best Movie of the Century

I would have said the best movie of the millenium, and it would have meant the same thing, but that seemed like an overstatement.

No, I am not talking about Napoleon Dynamite. I am also not talking about Titanic, as that came out in the previous century. I am talking about Southland Tales.

This is not a film for everyone. It is especially not for people who only like good movies. It is also not for people who only like movies that make sense. Furthermore, it stars The Rock, Sarah Michelle Gellar, and Stifler.

How can I label such a film "the Best Movie of the Century"? I don't know. But I have to. Some people might compare this movie to a train wreck, but a train wreck is an ugly disaster. This movie is more like a fire in a Beverly Hills penthouse. It's destroying all the expensive, beautiful things and people, and in a way, that's more beautiful than the penthouse was before.

I highly suggest you see this movie, but I take no responsibility for that recommendation.

11.19.2007

All Y'all Whack Emcees

Here's a song I wrote while listening to a guy sing songs that I wished were all about whack emcees. It's called "All Y'all Whack Emcees (Don't Get It (But That's OK))."

All y'all whack emcees, listen up to what I have to say.
In the game of hip hop, there is only one way to play.
And there are also some other ways, and I can dig them too,
And then there's you, oh yeah, you play the whack way.
Hey there, whack emcees. You're whack.
Whack. Wiggity whack. Wiggity wiggity whack.
Y'all whack emcees don't get it, but that's OK.

Everybody keeps hating on you whack emcees, all right.
They're up there on stage hating on you every night.
And they're not whack, oh no, they're not whack at all.
But you are, apparently, oh yeah, oh yeah, whack emcees.
Wiggity wiggity whack.
Wiggity wiggity whack.
All y'all whack emcees don't get it, oh yeah.
Y'all don't get it, and I guess that's OK.

Oh, y'all whack emcees, you oughtta wise up some.
The other rappers be hating you because you're so dumb.
You need to be loved just like the rest of us,
So you shold probably stop being a whack emcee right now.
Oh, y'all whack emcees,
You're so whack, a-wiggity wiggity.
Y'all whack emcees,
You don't get it, and it's not OK anymore.

Hey now, let's slow it down.

One day you whack emcees gonna grow up,
Y'all gonna be daddies, gonna have babies,
And then it ain't gonna be such a great idea
To pour champagne all over those laides.
Gonna have to take care of your babies,
Gonna have to get a real job, ooooh ooooh!
Better let go of that mike and hold your baby,
Cuz rocking that mike won't feed your baby.
Holding that mike and not your baby,
Your baby's gonna be a whack emcee like you!

11.16.2007

Vitamin-C-Induced Hallucinations

I'm about to take a serious overdose of Vitamin C. About 1,000 miligrams. That's one whole gram. Hopefully, this will prevent me from getting sick. But the main reason I'm having it is because I'm bored and I'm hoping it'll make the last hour more interesting. Here goes.

10 minutes later...

On the walk to the copier, my legs felt long and stretchy. I imagined myself wearing one of those tall, striped hats. The copier itself, however, was less than thrilling. It produced the 36 copies I asked for in excellent form. Now that I'm back at my desk, I feel slightly less fulfilled than before.

2 minutes after that...

I've discovered numerous mistakes that I've made before I took the vitamin C. It would seem that I am actually a more effective employee under the influence. However, I refuse to correct any of those mistakes.

Also, vitamin C does not make my hands any less cold and dry. Does this building have heat? No wonder I'm getting a cold.

15 additional minutes later...

If I ever quit this job, I've got to go out with a bang. So here's the plan. My last day, I'm gonna make three or four different fake treasure maps and give them to my coworkers. And I'll give 'em a note that explains how you have to decipher a series of clues to get to the treasure, but when you find it, you have to dig it up because it's buried. And while they're out hunting for the fake treasure, I'll take everything that's in alphabetical order and mix it up. Then I'll see what I can do about filling the office with llamas and balloons.

30 minutes into the future from now...

I'll fall asleep while driving on some side street and coast to a stop in the middle of an intersection right in front of the local marching band. Hopefully they'll carry me home in their tubas.

Get Low

I am shrinking. Well, not shrinking, but getting shorter. Shrinking implies that I'm getting smaller all around, but I'm only losing height. That's totally different. And I guess shrinking also implies that it's a continuing thing, but that's not true either. This was a one-time, two-inches-shorter-than-I-used-to-be deal.

Actually, maybe the world is just getting bigger than me. No, that's not it, because when I stop slouching the world goes back to its regular size. I guess it's better not to slouch--I don't want back problems. I'll need to be able to stand up as straight as possible so that no one notices I'm short now.

Next time you see me, try not to act surprised. I'm really sensitive about this.

11.15.2007

An Independent Vermont

Vermont has officially dropped more than 10 places on my list of the 50 states in order of favorites. It now resides at #41, between Idaho and Utah. Why?

About a month ago I heard that Vermont wanted to secede from the union. That's definitely one of the most absurd ideas I've ever heard. You're fed up with corporations and the Iraq War, so you're going to secede? Seriously? Vermont is like the Liberia of the U.S.--war torn, unable to sustain itself economically or politically, notorious for human rights violations, and greatly lacking in airports. Knowing that, they're still willing to make a go of it? Moronic as it seems, we may as well let them give it a shot. It'd be fun to watch.

Within one year as an idependent nation, Montpelier will be ashes and rubble, and the people will be forced to live in abandoned department stores. Then there'll be the drug trafficking, the arms build-up, the stray animals and rampant disease. It'll all lead up to the pathetic low of an alliance with Canada.

If I were New Hampshire, I'd be scared out of my mind.

11.14.2007

In Shirt Form

Anybody remember The Hidden Temple? I barely do. It was some Nickelodeon show where kids talked with a giant Aztec idol and fell in water and covered in dirt. It was a great show, I guess, and now it's available in shirt form.

I know I'm going to get one, but I can't decide if I should get more than one. I'm pretty sure I rooted for all of the teams (except the green one--why would you have a green team in the jungle? The jungle is already green!) when the show was on TV, but which was my favorite? The Purple Parrots? I don't think I could wear purple.

You wanna know how I came across this? One of those gmail ads. Apparently, gmail thought Hidden Temple T-shirts had some connection to a discussion about small group. But it's not like we weren't talking about the Hidden Temple. Wait; no, it is exactly like that.


EDIT: Check this out. This is how cool these shirts are.

Purple Parrots win again!

11.13.2007

Dear Nintendo Wii

Dear People Enslaved by Nintendo Wii,

I'm sure you guys get a lot of fan mail about how awesome the Wii is, but I won't bore you with the nonsensical ravings I'm sure you've read before. To be honest, I've never even met a Wii in person, but please do me the kindness of listening to my story.

About six months ago, Guitar Hero II ruined my life, and I haven't played video games since. I spent a month in rehab and another month in the gutter before I finally pulled myself together. As with all people in recovery, I'm always capable of relapse, so I avoid games as much as I can.

However, as a friend told me about Wii Sports, it occurred to me that the Wii could offer the perfect game to allow me to play games without relapsing--a video gamer's O'Doul's, if you will. I call this game Wii Chores. Players can have the options of raking leaves, sweeping the floor, making the bed, folding laundry. The possibilities are endless! It gives all the satisfaction of doing something productive without actually doing any of the work!

I hope that you take me seriously.

Sincerely,
Roboben

11.12.2007

The End of Innocence

Two of my good friends over at the Pop Culture Blogulator got married this weekend. It was a doozy of a party, and since I'm 70 years old and a baby, I got tired and left early. But I did get to dance twice, which is the second-most times I've ever danced in one evening.

The weird thing about a wedding, though, is that it's the beginning of a marriage. Most people forget that. A wedding isn't just a dress-up party; it's the union of two souls in one common purpose of uniting against the ever-growing army of the undead. That's what I like most about weddings. They consecrate for us two new warriors for the cause of humanity.

Congrats, Mark and Brigitte, and may God be with you and your fellow marrieds on the battlefields of the damned!

(But seriously, congratulations. Really.)

11.09.2007

Lava for Everyone

I'm pretty sure the local volcano erupted this morning. I was driving to work and noticed a bunch of ash flakes flying past the cars. Somebody said it was probably snow, but whoever said that is an idiot.

Thankfully, I haven't seen any lava, so I assume it's all flowing in the opposite direction. Sucks to be Chanhassen, I guess. Maybe they should take a lesson from Jimmy Buffett:

I don't know
I don't know
I don't know where I'm-a gonna go
When the volcano blow.


The man is thinking ahead, at least. That's one up on Chanhassen. And who's the one burning in a deluge of melted rock? It's not Jimmy Buffett, that's for sure.

11.08.2007

A World Without Pockets

Hey Everybody,

What if there were no pockets?

Really think about it for a second.



By now you realize what an integral invention the pocket really is. Perhaps more important than the wheel or the printing press. My pockets give me places to hold my wallet, cell phone, and keys. They give young lovers places to put each other's hands so they can discreetly pinch one another's butts. They're altogether miraculous.

If there were no pockets, we would not have money because no one would have any place to put their cash. Instead we would exchange physical beatings for goods and services. A black eye would buy a new blender or toaster. Two broken ribs would earn you a new television. Make it four or five if you want HD.

If there were no pockets, there would be no locks because there would be no convenient place to put your keys. People would hire lions or Ninjas or spaceships to defend their homes against intruders. Of course, those services are billed by the month, the repetitive injury crippling the majority of the population for life.

If there were no pockets, there would be no more children because no one would be able to pinch his or her partner's butt without being too obvious, thus making it impossible to flirt and thereby rendering all sexual attraction moot. The human race would be extinct in one generation.

Let's be thankful that we live in a world not without pockets.

Human Government

Yesterday I read about a few British laws that the British public voted to be the most absurd in their country. A few examples:

-It is illegal to die in Parliament.
-It is illegal for a woman to be topless in a certain city UNLESS she works as a clerk in a pet shop.
-It is treasonous to paste a postage stamp bearing the monarch upside-down.
-If someone knocks on your door requesting to use your toilet, by law you must allow them. I think that's only in Scotland. AND it is perfectly legal for a pregnant woman to relieve herself anywhere she likes, including--and this is specifically noted in the legal code--inside a policeman's helmet.

I, for one, am grateful that these were written and remain codified. Absurd as they may be, they're necessary for keeping the peace. I hear order is very fragile in Britain, and without these laws, I'm sure their society would just fall apart.

Can you imagine a Britain where non-pet shop clerks walked around topless? It would be anarchy! And what if we weren't allowed access to any Scottish toilet we wanted? Surely their streets would reek of urine to the heavens! Indeed, surely they must once have reeked of urine, which, I assume, is why that law was written. Then again, as I recall the smell of Scotland, the people must not be aware of this law.

The British clearly understand how government works. Yet another reason we were better off under their sober and even-handed rule. Hail Britannia! Arriba!

11.07.2007

Sobering Reality

I've heard about a lot of amazingly crappy things today. I work with amazingly crappy things on a daily basis, but something today made it real for me. These things, a lot of people are going to end up hurt really bad, and a lot of them already are hurting really bad. This world is an incredibly broken place, and so much of the time we can convince ourselves that it's not that bad. But it is that bad.

It's not poverty, and it's not AIDS, and it's not unjust war, though all of those are bad. It's the stuff that happens to people, the stuff that we can attach a face or a name to. It's not all evil. Some of it just starts with stupid decisions, but it ends of doing real harm to innocent people. It may be easier for us not to think about it--I know it's easier for me--but I'm not sure that it's better.

So please pray. Everybody needs our prayers.

11.06.2007

Bombs Away

On my drive to work, I drive under an unusually politically active overpass. Today, instead of promoting candidates for the election, they were anti-promoting terrorism. Their message: DON'T BOMB IRAN.

That's all well and good, but I think they're a little misdirected. I'm not the one they should be talking to. I'm not going to bomb Iran.

But even if I was going to bomb Iran, what business is it of theirs? They're not the boss of me. They can't tell me who I can and can't bomb. My relationship with Iran is between me and Iran. I appreciate their concern, sort of, but maybe they should get to know me a little better before they start telling me how to manage my foreign affairs.

Also, shouldn't these people have jobs? Telling people not to bomb Iran isn't free.

11.05.2007

A World Without Writers

Television writers went on strike today, dooming all of us TV-watching idiots to an indefinite state of confusion and panic. Most of our shows will make it another couple weeks or so, but then come the reruns, and soon after, chaos. As a culture, we Americans can only take so much recycled entertainment programming before we resort to looting and cannibalism, I assume.

The first shows to go will be late nite comedy. We'll turn on Leno tonight only to discover the Judge Ito dancers, and once we realize that we have not traveled back in time 10-15 years, we'll immediately go bald or start shooting lasers from our ears. Get used to it, America, because without our beloved television writers, this is what we have to deal with. So be careful not to aim your ear lasers at your loved ones.

Of course there's Regis & Kelly, which has no writers, and According to Jim, which will somehow continue to be produced without writing, to keep our brains occupied. Then again, this will most likely make matters worse.

Edward R. Murrow told us television would destroy society. I think he might be surprised to find out that it's actually the lack of television that will be our downfall. If he wasn't a communist, I think he'd laugh a little.

Betrayed by Leprechauns

These leprechauns are driving me bananas.

It all started on Friday. They were nice at first, giving me candy and convincing me to play games with them and stuff, and it was great. I thought I'd have a bright future with my new best friends the leprechauns. We'd eat nothing but candy and do nothing but play games forever!

But then after I passed out from eating too much candy, the leprechauns ruined everything. They gave me a whole lot of work to do, but they ripped up all the papers so I couldn't read them, and they smeared my office with goose crap and even got some in my hair, and they turned over the garbage can. When I woke up, they said that the didn't know what happened. One of them said that I did it in my sleep.

So now I have all this work to do that I don't understand, and I'm still sick from all the candy we ate this weekend. I don't want to work at all, and these leprechauns still won't leave me alone. I told them I don't want any more of their candy, and I knocked over their backgammon board, but they keep bothering me. And now they're throwing backgammon chips at my head.

You know one good thing about leprechauns, though? You can drop kick 'em really far. Or at least I think you can. We'll find out shortly.

11.02.2007

Computer Incompetence

There are lots of ways to separate the weak from the strong in a corporate office. Jousting. Scavenger hunts. Who can survive in a tank full of bees the longest. Who can eat the most bees in an hour. Home run derby.

We're all familiar with those contests, but apparently my company is slightly more devious. They decided to switch our computers from Windows 2000 to Windows XP. The one lesson we can learn from this "migration" is that old people don't know how computers work. I'll give them a little grace because they're old, and one day I'll be old too and I won't remember what a toolbar is.

In nature, this is why they have lions. The idiots get picked off and gored so they don't slow down the rest of the herd. So what we need is something for which the lions can be an appropriate metaphor. Or maybe we just need lions. That'd be easier, probably.

In my opinion, we should have gone the bee-eating route.

11.01.2007

Flu Shot Spectacular

Today is free flu shot day for my company. The line is long, as corporate America and fear of terrorism have duped many of my coworkers into taking the vaccination plunge. From what I understand of human psychology, people don't really understand how healthy a flu shot is. They just think anything that involves sticking a needle in your arm must be a good thing.

Well, in the interests of promoting public health, I did some research on the real effectiveness of flu shots to dispel all the rumors and brainwashing. And since wikipedia had nothing of interest to offer besides a picture of a Navy officer who got rabies or schizophrenia from the vaccine, all my information comes from up here (I'm pointing to my brain as I type that).

Welcome to your medical education.

FACT: The flu shot is not just water, though it tastes like salt water.
FACT: According to the American Lung Association, the flu shot will not kill you.
FACT: Old people will still receive their social security checks if they do not get their flu shot.
FACT: Even criminals on death row are allowed to get the flu shot.
FACT: When the flu shot supply runs out, there are no more flu shots.
FACT: The flu vaccine is transparent.

MYTH: The flu shot will turn you into a fire-breathing dragon.
MYTH: You will definitely die if you do not get the flu shot. (That's actually kind of true, though.)
MYTH: The flu shot is actually a mind-control device.
MYTH: The flu shot will end all your suffering and bring you eternal happiness.
MYTH: In light of the imminent apocalypse, whether you get a flu shot does not matter.
MYTH: The flu shot does not actually exist.