Soup du Voyageur

I wish I was an early 19th-century voyageur. I'd get to float around in a canoe for the majority of the day, wear all kinds of animal skins, eat whatever animals were inside those skins, and make loads of money by taking advantage of the naive Native Americans. What is not to love about that life?


Check out this guy. Now that's a voyageur. Sure, he looks like a gay pirate castoff or something that had been digested by a ninja for a week or two, but...well, there's probably an upside. That musket probably shoots pretty far. And let's not forget about the canoe! That hat is really bad, but the canoe almost balances it out.

But after looking at that picture for a little while, I don't want to be a voyageur anymore. I might even delete this post in a few days that guy is so scary.

Man, if this is any indicator, no wonder French Canada is in really poor shape. If there are any Quebeckians out there, you have my deepest sympathy.

Great Day

Hey guys! Today was just a great day. I mean all-around just great. On my list of favorite days ever throughout history, this one wouldn't break the top 20, but it'd probably be in the top 50. When you look at that statistically, that's a really great day. And it's only going to get better--I have a great dinner ahead of me!

Still, there are number of things that would have made this day a little bit more spectacular and extraordinary. So here's a list of what those things would be, and how this day would have ranked on my list of favorite days if that thing had happened.

: Timberwolves acquire Chris Paul, Amare Stoudamire, and Magic Johnson in his prime in a four-team trade across time in exchange for Christian Laettner and our first round draft-picks in 1990 and 1993. (#40)

: A herd of sheep let loose in my office, causing not havoc but something more along the lines of a ho-down. The event is so successful that my company becomes a ranching business and keeps me on as a full-time shepherd. (#36)

: Same as above, but with a temperature of 50-60 degrees. (#34)

: The sheep and the temperature again, plus I get tomorrow and Friday off. (#33)

: Africa gets its act together. (#32)

: Robots take over the bad part of society but live in peace and friendship with the good part, which includes me and most of the people I know. (#27)

: Same as above, but the robots are dressed as lobsters and/or a funk band. Can you imagine a robot lobster funk band? It'd be so rad! (#25)

: I meet Keanu Reeves. (#19)

: Same as above, but Keanu is wearing a lobster suit. (#14)

: I save the world from evil terrorists or something with Keanu wearing a lobster suit. (#11)

Warmth, At Last

Most of us here in Minnesota are used to our bitter winters. We may complain about it all the time and blog about it like crazy, but most of the time we can stomach a good 20 or 30 below.

Not me. I need to be warm. And what's the warmest thing there is? Fire.

That's right, I burned our house down.


This isn't our house. I left my camera inside, so I couldn't take a picture. But it looked a little bit like this.

To be honest, this may have been short-sighted and counter-productive. It would have maybe made more sense to only burn down part of the house, like one of the parts we weren't using. Or maybe we could have burned down the neighbors' house and warmed ourselves up around that. It's not arson if it's for a good cause, right?

Argyle

I don't get it.



Argyle makes absolutely no sense to me. None whatsoever. Where did it come from? What is it good for? Why is it fashionable? It's an anomaly of creation. It's almost like it existed before the rest of the universe, like Stonehenge or certain condiments.

Aside from all the obvious frustrations with argyle, here are a few of the things that bother me the most about it: 1) you can't eat it; 2) it only seems to come in the form of sweaters and socks; 3) it doesn't look good on a cape; 4) you can't build anything with it, or if you do, it blows over on windy days; 5) it's not an any country's flag; 6) argyle is impossible to count.

But let's get back to what I mentioned before I did that list--the origins of argyle. I decided to a little research, and since wikipedia has almost nothing to say about argyle, that research was utterly fruitless. I am going to assume that argyle was invented by a Scottish dragon who was trying to come up with a creative variation of backgammon. You can't prove me wrong, so that automatically means that I'm right.

No More Choices

You may not have heard, but all the major presidential candidates were swallowed by a blue whale last night. Tragic. They weren't all swallowed by the same blue whale, though, which makes it slightly less tragic. But hey, we're Americans. We'll mourn however we want.

Personally, I'm going to mourn by becoming your next president. You don't even have to vote for me if you don't want to. It won't matter. All your alternatives are in several different whale bellies, so good luck finding someone else to elect.

I heard McCain once spent five months in the belly of a whale and survived, but I don't think he could hold out this time. He's 72. And don't get me wrong--if he hadn't been eaten alive, I would have voted for him, if I would have voted. But we can go on and on about "if" this and "if" that, but it doesn't change the fact that every politician you loved is being digested by the largest animal on earth and I'm the only one left you can still vote for.

Shake my hand. Do it. And you better learn to love this hand, because it's going to be slapping you silly for the next four to eight years.

Obscure Historical Figure #2

Continuing in the vein that inspired me to make Christine post about grizzled and destitute Gold Rush baron James W. Marhsall, I'm going to try and write about another obscure and hilarious historical figure. I've heard it said before that the sequel is never as good as the original, but since I'm in a Wikipedia mood today, I don't care.

Allow me to introduce you to Paolo Bellasio (1554-1594), the frequently unemployed Italian composer. He spent the majority of his adult life "probably looking for a job as an organist." Most of his work was part-time, though at one point he held a full-time position for less than two years. No one knows why he left that job, perhaps out of habit, and he ended up in Rome to die four years thereafter.

His legacy is relatively nonexistent. Apparently he published--or at least wrote--a couple books of songs that are by and large ignored or forgotten about today. According to his epitaph, the Pope at the time granted him the title of "Knight of the Golden Spur," but no one knows what that means.

I don't mean to disparage the man's memory or anything. He may be dead, but at least he has a Wikipedia entry, and that's better than anything I'll ever do. No wait, I ate half of a two-pound burger in less than 30 minutes once, and that was definitely better than having my own Wikipedia entry could be.

Eat More Butter

I recently made a major life decision--to eat more. I was inspired by how hungry I was. More hungry than usual, in fact. What better way to be less hungry than to eat more?

I'll be honest. It's not going well. Really, even day one proved to be a problem. When I went into the kitchen and discovered that we were out of pretzels, I figured this was a lost cause.

But today it hit me. It wasn't just any kind of food I was lacking--it was butter! I haven't had much of a solid butter intake for the last 8 years of my life. Can you imagine 8 years without butter? It's insane!

My plan is to eat three sticks of butter every week. I haven't put it into practice yet, though. I'm gonna try and get a book deal first.

Eskimos Are Taking Over the World

I've finally figured out why it's been so cold lately. It's a giant scheme of the Eskimos to freeze the world in order to finally conquer us all. I know I've accused the Eskimos of similar schemes in the past (remember the conspiracy to replace real shoes with snowshoes?), and they all turned out to be mostly false, but this one's for real.

In case this doesn't make sense, allow me to explain. The Eskimos, while easy to ignore for the most part, have been driven mad over the years with an insatiable thirst for revenge against the people who consigned them to the Arctic. Those people were historically Russians and Canadians, but over time have come to include everyone else. And since the Eskimos function best in frigid climates that the rest of us find paralyzing, this is the best means for them to enact their plans for vengeance.

Those of you not in Minnesota may find no cause for concern whatsoever. Think again. In a previous post, I vaguely implied that Minnesota is the perfect staging grounds for an all-out invasion of the entire United States. For instance, we have an airport with destinations in many major cities around the country. We also have two major interstates that connect our state with other states in the nation through a series of interconnected highways. In addition, our many lakes make for perfect hiding places for weapons and artillery. Thus, Minnesota is the ideal starting place for any would-be conquerors.

We need to start to prepare ourselves. Maybe we should all get space heaters and run them outside until this state warms up and scares the Eskimos away. It may cost a lot for your electric bill, but think about it this way. If I'm wrong, then there's no loss, and we might have an early spring on our hands. But if I'm right, then I just saved you from certain annihilation, and you ought to make me your king.

Keanu Reeves Is My Favorite Actor, and I'm Serious

Jim wanted me to blog about this, but I wasn't going to. I figured no one would get it, you'd all just make fun of me, nothing would get accomplished, and the world would move one step closer to the Apocalypse. Then my friends at the Blogulator had to go and pick a fight, so I had to stand up and defend my opinion.

In my opinion, Keanu Reeves is the greatest actor who ever lived, but for the sake of argument (since I'm sure that's going to come off as a farce), I'll just say that he's my favorite actor. Laugh all you want, but I'm not kidding. He's better than acting. He transcends acting.

Allow me to explain. I'm sure you're all willing to admit that Keanu has a distinct style of acting. Most of you would call that style "bad," but you'd be missing the point. Keanu doesn't act like other acting people because he knows how to add a certain element to his characters that others can't. They all try and become their characters, like Jamie Foxx becomes Ray Charles or Nicole Kidman becomes Virginia Woolf. Keanu doesn't merely become; he validates. He lets the character become part of himself, or he lets himself become part of his character, so the performance he gives is real in a sense that we don't usually experience in the movie theater.

It's not bad acting because bad acting is when somebody is obviously trying to be somebody they're not. What we often praise as good acting is when someone just is someone that they're not. What Keanu does is become someone who he simultaneously is AND is not. It's a psychological and artistic marvel.

This immeasurable talent is not totally clear in most of the movies of his that people like. In the Bill and Ted films, he's surrounded by doofuses, so he doesn't shine like he ought (like Tom Hanks in Bachelor Party). In The Matrix movies, it's easy to miss how awesome he is because there's so much action.

But let's take a look at what you'd consider his "lesser" works. Take Speed, or even better, Johnny Mnemonic. Try to imagine those movies if the lead was played by Christian Bale or some other "talented" actor. They would be completely mediocre and hardly even worthy of comment. They wouldn't be anything special (even if you think they're only specially bad now). Why? Because Keanu brings something unique to those films that other actors can't. Taking Keanu out of Johnny Mnemonic is like taking the basil out of any meal that uses basil--it loses all of its flavor! Same goes for his romantic comedies. They'd just be more sappy crap without him, but with him, they're something strangely glorious. Go see Sweet November and you'll know what I'm talking about.

Next time Point Break is on TV, take a little time and pay closer attention. You may be surprised at the light that shines through what you once thought was just a pile of sludge.

Unfortunately Persistent Identity Crisis

Just now, part of me thought it would be a good idea to write about filling my office with scorpions. A slightly different part of me thought it would be a good idea to write about filling the office with gummi bears instead, but the original part of me insisted that if I did write about that, I'd also have to write about spraying all the gummi bears with apple juice to make them sticky and gross.

For a while I thought that part of me just wanted attention. Now I'm pretty sure he's just a jerk. Seriously. And let's not get confused--the funny part of me is actually a different part entirely, but this jerk part keeps teaming up with him and making him do things he wouldn't normally do. I'm just happy that they never ended up in jail. I know I couldn't afford bail.

Whatever happens, this is not going down like Fight Club. I don't care how much a jerk or subsersive communist this part of me becomes, he can blow up all the buildings in New York he wants and I'm just gonna eat vegetables like nothing's going on. Take that, America.

Magic Basement

Last night I discovered something cool about my basement. Anything that goes down there gets cloned. I discovered this when I went downstairs to do my laundry, and two of me came back up. At first I thought it was a walking mirror, but then I realized that I had been cloned.

We did what any sane clone and non-clone duo would do. We named our cloning machine. After a little debate, we decided on "The Clone Zone." The rhyming was really important to both of us.

I was ready to go to bed at that point, but the other me insisted that we toy around with the clone zone. So we got our hands on anything that was clonable. We had a couple plants, a fish, the dog from next door, a painting of an iguana, and somehow he got his hands on an ostrich. That whole ostrich thing would make a good post on its own, but we're blogging about clones here. The point being, now I have two ostriches.

Unfortunately for my clone, I had to tie him to a post in the forest and let the wolves have him. There were just too many problems with having a clone. Mostly I didn't have enough shirts, and I really didn't like the idea of sharing my wardrobe. That just weirds me out. Doesn't anybody else think that's weird?

History's Greatest Bloopers

Thanks to Wikipedia, today we're going to learn about the Alaska Mental Health Enabling Act. Sounds boring, doesn't it? Wrong! Like everything relating to the mental health of our country, this is one wacky adventure!

This bill was introduced to our nation's congress in the 1950s with the idea of improving Alaska's (and only Alaska's) resources and facilities to care for the mentally ill. Amazingly, this became the greatest political controversy since the previous decade. Republicans violently opposed the bill, calling it a communist plot to brainwash Americans. Several groups also claimed it was anything from a Jewish to a Catholic to a psychiatric conspiracy--and not just a regular conspiracy, but a conspiracy to establish US concentration camps.

I am not making this up.

To make matters even more interesting, once the law got passed (thanks to inexplicable Republican cooperation), Alaska's mental health conditions got a ton worse. Though it initially succeeded in establishing a mental health care system for the state, Alaskan politicans--politicians from Alaska, presumably the ones who initially championed this bill--systematically broke down the system and stole the land that was allotted for it. Some 30 years after the fact, that land stealing was ruled illegal.

I am so serious right now.

In addition, this whole debacle is a keystone argument in Scientology's argument against psychiatry. In one of their museums or shrines or whatever, they have an exhibit entitled Pyschiatry: An Industry of Death, in which they purport that, "psychiatrists sponsored the Alaska Mental Health Bill, the Holocaust, the Bosnian War and the September 11th, 2001 terrorist attacks as part of a worldwide conspiracy to impose control through the guise of mental health."

That's right. I just put the US government on the same level of crazy as Scientology. That's how badly we bungled this one. Barry Goldwater, you brought us as low as L. Ron Hubbard. Thanks.

Absolute Zero

I hear that it's supposed to reach double digits below absolute zero this weekend. I didn't think that was possible, but the weather men know best. I have a quick couple thoughts on the subject, though.

* If all motion is supposed to cease at absolute zero, does that mean that temperatures below zero make us go back in time? I know that this is flimsy hypothesis at best, but like all time travel scenarios, it's worth trying. Unless thawing us out makes us go forward in time again. That'd be the biggest letdown ever.

* Reasonable arguments aside, this weather completely disproves global warming. And don't give me any of that global cooling hoo-ha. You can't change your global-climate-trend horse in midstream.

* The most important question is, how will this affect the current presidential race? I'm going to go out on a limb and say Ron Paul gets the Republican nomination, Spiderman wins for the Democrats, and Ron Paul wins it all.

Utterly Uninspired

What's the deal with pumpkins?



Have you ever seen anything so fat and orange? No, that's a rhetorical question. Please don't answer it. Answer the first question instead. The one about the deal with pumpkins.

It's times like these I wish a blog was more like a conversation. I'd actually like to hear your answers instead of waiting for some comment that I'm probably never going to get.

Actually, no. It's times like these I'm really glad a blog is nothing like a conversation. Because then we'd be having a really sucky conversation about pumpkins.

Blogs Are Useless

Every now and then, America, we have to take a long, hard look in the mirror and discover what is secretly trying to destroy our way of life. And then we have to destroy it. I did the mirror part this morning, and you know what the most glaring blemish was? Blogging.

Let's do a little assessment of blogging. What, aside from ESPN.com's Sports Guy, has blogging ever contributed to our culture? Nothing, unless you count millions of whiny nerds as cultural contribution. I certainly don't.

Look at yourself for a second. What are you doing right now? Reading my blog. You know what else you could be doing? Here are a few options: plant a tree, attend your city council meeting, make some jeans, exhume a corpse or two, or...OK, that's all I have. But clearly, this is the least productive way you could be spending your time.

Also, please don't stop reading my blog.

Off to Thailand

It occurred to me this morning, why not move to Thailand? I don't really have anywhere else to be, at least not for a few months. Thailand seems like as good a place as any.

Before you start wagging your finger at me like I'm an idiot, let's take a look at the pros and cons of this decision. Then we'll see who's the idiot.

PROS
-They have elephants in Thailand, and I think that everyone who lives there gets to have one.
-If they have a monsoon season, it's probably over by now.
-In comparison to other Asian countries, it's significantly better than slightly more than half of them.
-Not communist.
-The majority of the country's population resides above the ground.

CONS
-American Thai food is better than Thai Thai food.
-The King and I, which was set in Thailand, is annoying.
-It's hard to make friends in Thailand because I probably don't speak their language and I doubt we have anything in common.
-The zombie problem is on the verge of getting out of control.
-Laos won't shut up.

The choice is clear. I'll see y'all in Thailand or never again!

Too Many Dishes

I arrived home yesterday at about 5:30 after a relatively busy day at work. I was looking forward to a nice dinner of salad and leftover pizza to lead into an evening of relaxation. As I walked into the kitchen, I looked to the sink and discovered that still none of our dishes had been washed, bringing us to Day 9 of a sinkful of dirty dishes.

There were no clean forks.
There were almost no clean cups or glasses, though we have something like 50.
And the frying pan I wanted to use was still dirty from when I used it three days ago.

So I made my salad, reheated my pizza, found something that would suffice as a fork, and sat myself in front of the TV and wasted an hour of my life.

Thankfully, I still had some time to put a dent in the dishes, but I was prepared with a back-up plan should I have spent too much time watching TV. I would make a big sign that said WE'RE SCREWED and put it over the sink. And then I would leave. When I later mentioned that plan to my roommate, he told me that once he saw the sign, he would have turned right around and left the house. He imagined a youngster asking him, "Where ya goin', Mister?" and my roommate's reply, "Anywhere but here."

He would have driven off into the sunset and maybe had some great adventures, but because I did the dishes, he's stuck in Minneapolis for the rest of his life.

Corporate Mix-Up

Note: the names of the people and entities here have been changed to protect the dignity of those involved in this conversation.

Inside a local business establishment...

ME: (addressing one of the establishment's represatives) I'd like to speak to Mr. Menard, please.
PERSON: Um, there is no Mr. Menard.
ME: I'm pretty sure there is.
PERSON: I really don't think so.
ME: Then why is it called Menards?
PERSON: It's not a possessive, sir.
ME: Are you telling me it's plural?
PERSON: No.
ME: Because I have a pretty good vocabulary, and I've never heard of a menard before.
PERSON: It's not plural, sir.
ME: Stop playing games with me.
PERSON: Please keep your voice down.
ME: I demand to speak to Mr. Menard RIGHT NOW!
PERSON: I've told you that there is no Mr. Menard.
ME: This is SERIOUS BUSINESS! I'm not JOKING AROUND!
PERSON: Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave.
ME: I can't leave.
PERSON: Why not?
ME: Listen, either you show me to Mr. Menard by the time I count to three, or I will fill this place with so many bear traps, you'll--
PERSON: Security!
ME: Too much of a girl for the bear traps, huh?

Weekend of a Billion Movies

I saw a lot of movies this weekend. More than usual. Though I doubt you care to hear my opinion about them, I'm going to give it you. You can cry about it as much as you want, but I'm not going to stop.

1. Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves
The whole time I was watching this movie, I kept trying to think of what that annoying Bryan Adams song was, but I could only think of Meat Loaf's "I Would Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)."

2. There Will Be Blood
I have never been more horrified in a movie theater. Whoever thought it would be funny to let a bunch of squirrels loose on us has a really poor sense of humor. Maybe if we were watching The Royal Tenenbaums I would understand, but this was just uncalled for. But Daniel Day Lewis was excellent.

3. Dead Silence
Yes, this is the movie about the ventriloquist's dummy who kills people. Of the something like 10 people I watched it with, only 3 of us stayed awake or didn't leave in the middle. But seriously, a ventriloquist's dummy who kills people? Not a good idea. Now, a movie about a psychic ventriloquist's dummy who runs a horse racing track and solves crime on the side, that I would see!

4. Sweeney Todd
You know what's interesting? People got murdered in every movie I saw this weekend. Maybe Hollywood should try something new. I mean, right now, I can only think of two movies that nobody gets murdered in. Miracle and Casablanca. And I'm actually pretty sure somebody gets murdered in Casablanca. At least this one had singing.

2008: Least Blogworthy Year Ever

Man, I am so disappointed with 2008. Nothing--not one thing--has happened yet. Anybody else notice how all the crazy stuff happened in '07? They even stepped it up a notch at the end, what with the zoo mauling and the Pakistan assassination. Get all the big insane news in before it turns 2008, I bet they were thinking.

Not that I appreciate that a kid got killed by a tiger or that a suicide bomber killed dozens of people and a political lady. I definitely don't want to convey that. My point is that if this stuff happened in '07, a roller coaster of a year. And now that we hit '08, we're in for more of a slow train ride.

For the more skeptical of you, I offer a comparison. 2007 gave us the Patriots' record-breaking undefeated regular season, glowing cats, and I'm pretty sure a Japanese space shuttle. 2008 has given us nothing but a rise in gas prices, probably.

So beware, world: blogs are going to suck this year.

Oh wait, I forgot about the presidential election. But I guess that means blogs are going to suck even more. Boo 2008.

2008: Coldest Year Ever

We're now on Day Three of the coldest year in all of history, and there's no sign of it ever warming up. I think on Day One we only had single digit temperatures, but now we're down to the double digits. I just verified that on a weather site--we're sitting at a chilly -57 degrees F right now. I don't think that includes the windchill, only because I'm pretty sure it's too cold for there to be wind.

Here are a few things that have especially disappointed me about this coldness. I mean, the cold is bad enough, but then there's all this:

-Canada's entire population has migrated south to my country, the United States. Now I was never one to notice the difference between our two countries, but I am outraged that this line has been crossed. I propose we ship them to Alaska, which isn't really part of the US anyway.
-My car is frozen in a block of ice. I seriously thought this only happened in cartoons. How can my car freeze in a block of ice when there's nothing to shape the ice into a block? And where did all that water come from? Whatever. I'm not going to argue with science.
-The ice gremlins are out. These guys are jerks. Mostly they just sit on the sidewalk and spit at me as I walk by, but I saw one steal some guy's hat. That was uncool.

It's times like these that I wish I lived in a volcano.