Friday, March 20, 2009

Stupid Iz

Note: I apologize up front for the style of this post, ie. the use of "double quotes", (parenthesis), ->little arrows<-, shouting in CAPS, etc. I hate bowing down to these simplistic graphic vehicles in my written language, but this morning I'm just too tired to expend the energy for it. In effect, this is a departure from the self-imposed perfection I was talking about in my Deserve Well post! We'll get back to proper grammar and writing style for my next post.


Just the other day I was debating genetics of stupidity. My grandma sometimes said: « Il y a des gens qui sont née sans-desseins, c'est pas leur faute, ils sont nées comme ca. »

It's one of these dictums that cannot be translated directly, but a loose translation would be: "Some people are born without mental wherewithal, it's not their fault, they're just born that way."

I desperately try not to judge based on mental acuity. Operative word: "try", since I typically fail miserably when confronted with utter stupidity. (oops! So much for not judging.)

Anyway, I was a manager once, long ago. During this time I made the realization that everyone in an organization has different strengths and weaknesses. Some could be developed, others leveraged, and others avoided. Mental acuity was just one of many qualities needed in the type of job we were doing. Steadfastness and patience was another easy one. Social skills were de rigueur, being in customer service, etc.

Seldom was outright idiocy displayed however. Usually seemingly idiotic decisions were often explained by hidden agendas once brought to light, or simple ignorance of some facts, or just hadn't realized some important element. So I came to the natural conclusion that bad decisions weren't necessarily akin to stupidity and looking deeper, if I so had the time and inclination, would yield a different point of view.

Intelligence is measured in many different ways. For instance there's: book smart, street smart, troubleshooters (white box or black box), associative, creative, science, theology, Mensa, mentalist, sales, marketing, and even manipulative. The list goes "on-dan-don" as Céline would say.

Some are adept at situational analysis and others still at survival, among others.

Given all the possibilities, I came to the conclusion in my recent discussion, that everyone had the "wherewithal" gene, whether it be recognized or not. While some may not choose to use it, or may not have been shown how, it is there nevertheless. I chose to exclude outright mental disabilities from the equation.

As per scientific methodology: observation -> conjecture -> hypothesis -> test and cycle, I was ultimately coming to the theory that a "smart" gene existed in everyone.

And then all of a sudden as if by magic, coincidence, happenstance, or design, I get a flood of examples of people seemingly just too stupid to live. I'm thinking my hypothesis may need looking at. I give you today a misguided, distraught and so very, very screwed young woman (I'm not saying "lady", as that would be a serious stretch! You'll see why in a minute.)

In a nutshell, she's in the middle of a custody battle with her ex, for their kid. As so many people are having to play this game nowadays, she's looking for ammo to discredit him. I'm not sure if she had the brainstorm herself or if it came from someone else, but I have to admire the initiative, well sort of anyway.

She has her laptop brought into the police station, claiming her ex had left child porn on it, and if they could find it, this would be evidence that he's an unfit father. A sound plan, right up until the cops find a couple of videos, in the recycle-bin on her desktop, of her engaging in sexual activities with a dog! (Go ahead, read that last sentence again slowly.)

Ok, not my cup of tea, but I'm still trying not to judge remember?

But then the sorry bitch admits to the bestiality felony, this is AFTER the cops have informed her of her Fifth-amendment rights and that the videos contained evidence of a felony. Furthermore she compounds the problem in admitting she was drunk at the time (and she's on probation for this!), and just for shits and giggles admits to trying to destroy the evidence thereby making the point for the cops that she's perfectly aware that what she did, even then, was wrong. Serving her own ass on a silver platter.

I realize that she may be in distress over the custody battle, that she has blinders on, and that she is focused solely on trying to stick it to her ex… but jesus-h-christ-on-a-popsicle-stick!

Too stupid to live? You decide.

Here's the article from The Smoking Gun, including the police affidavit: The Smoking Gun "Porn Sting Goes to the Dogs"

I'm certainly giving my hypothesis the evil eye now! I'm thinking some mutations may have occurred.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

al-Bashir just isn’t a nice man

(Caution, atrocities warning ahead.)

Is this the latest trend in negotiation tactics?

The President of Liberia, among other African countries, is making a case for begging. To quote Yahoo news: "Liberia, is also threatened, according to President Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf. She said that it made sense for the richer countries in the world to fund the poorest now, since it would cost much less than paying for peacekeeping operations later." (BBC News) Isn't this exactly like saying: come and mow my lawn or I'll shit on your porch?

I'm not saying African countries don't need help, but at first I was offended at the syllogism. Nevertheless she understands her corner of the world and does make a good point.

And then as if to give her credibility, from across her continent…

Sudan's President-by-military-coup, al-Bashir, has ordered ousted all foreign humanitarian aid to his country. He is claiming that these organisations providing care, where his own government will not, are spies. He's probably right to a certain degree mind you. He certainly doesn't want any foreigners to deal directly with the Sudanese people. Then he says drop of your care packages at the airports or seaports and his government will take care of it. I, for one, have complete and utter confidence that the medicine, water and rations will, of course, get to where they need to go in a timely fashion. Riiiiight.

Notwithstanding that Sudan is the most war-torn country on the face of the earth, second only to Somalia (high praise indeed); notwithstanding that 1.1 Million people in Darfur will go without food or aid or water, and is actually a perfect representation of Hell on earth; and also notwithstanding that al-Bashir has an arrest warrant out on his ass by the International Criminal court for, wait for it, crimes against humanity! All this notwithstanding, get this, the quoted number of deaths is at 300,000 people and counting. Ok. So al-Bashir says, (wait for it), "this number is exaggerated." Exaggerated? EXAGGERATED? Seriously? He's admitting to mass murder, but basically saying, "yeah well, it's not as bad as all that". So tell me, my dear man, exactly how much mass murder is acceptable? I'm thinking maybe 100,000 slaughtered should be the high water mark, right? Good fucking grief.

Any kind of peacekeeping missions here would probably wind up killing off the 2.7 million people displaced into the arid western region because of warring factions from all corners, including Chad for that matter. But then al-Bashir's army isn't equipped well enough to slaughter them all before we get there, so I figure it might be worth a shot. Maybe I should revise my forecast of war with Iran. Sudan would make an awesomely expensive "playing field".

Then a peacenik from the World Health Organization chimes in, she's worried about al-Bashir's order tearing a gaping hole in the monitoring efforts that could lead to outbreaks of infectious disease going unchecked. "If they are not helping us do this very vital work, we may see the emergence of infectious diseases," said WHO spokeswoman Fadela Chaib. (AP)

I think that's precisely the point, honey.

Saves on bullets doesn't it?

Monday, March 16, 2009

Watchmen (movie review)

I can't help thinking Triplettes de Belleville, Blade Runner and Watchmen all definitely cult movies of varying genres. So it goes with Watchmen: you either worship it or you hate it. Seldom is there a middle ground for the type. Oddly enough I fit in that middle ground, I was bored out of my skull, but curious enough as to where the story was going.

Cinematically and symbolically it was very impressive, except Mars, I still don't get that. Entertainment-wise it's too long by at least an hour. I think some people left the screening because of sheer boredom, way too plodding. I looked at my watch twice, which not generally a good thing and thought about leaving at least twice. But the plodding translates into an amazing story and moral study of an alternate 1985 earth. If you get hooked (reference "cult" here) it ties up everything nicely. The ending does not leave you on your appetite. Now you may not like the ending, but all the loose ends are tied up. The action scenes are very short-lived but then they are very intelligent, including the assault/almost-rape.

I would have liked to see this as a mini-series on DVD instead. Re-add the very material which was glossed over in the opening credits, and then spread it over 4 or 5 discs. If and when you see the movie, you'll understand what I mean.

A few bonuses: I may have caught a glimpse of a Dodge Omni 024 in a back-scene, too funny and I'm impressed they even found one to film! And of course the lovely Carla Gugino in a black silk overbust corset was nice eye candy. Rorschach was positively hypnotic.

I'm not sure where to put the so-called love-scene in the hovercraft though. Miss Akerman is certainly cute enough, but meh.

The caveat: Don't see this on IMAX if you're allergic to blue penises. One of the characters is mostly naked throughout the movie and glows bright blue. It's not offensive per-se on a regular movie screen, but this giant dick on IMAX could be a little, shall we say, overwhelming. That being said, it is rated "R" – that's RESTRICTED to a mature audience, even if you think your kids are "mature", they ain't! See reference to an assault/rape-scene above, and a cold-blooded murder by the same characters is, to put it mildly, deeply disturbing.

Not having read the graphic novel/comic books I can't say how it rubs up, but then it also makes me one of those people who walked in the theatre not knowing what to expect. So from the perspective of one who has not read the novel, if you go at it with an open mind you won't be disappointed, there's plenty of visuals and story material to keep one entertained. If you go in expecting to see an action-packed superhero jaunt you'll be leaving early. It's that simple.

I'm giving it an overall C rating because of the over two and a half hours worth of cult-only direction. Unfortunately this trumps everything else, as is often the case with cult-centric productions.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Source of Aggravation by Circuit City

Another bitch of the day. (warning, graphic language ahead, hehe.)

I walk into The Source by Circuit City. My mission is to find an over-the-air solution for my mom's TV. She is getting tired of paying cable TV fees, and honestly, can't really afford it.

I do some research into getting some new gear in order to tune into the new OTA (over the air) digital broadcasts.

Be it known that on June 12, 2009, the Americans are supposed to cut-over to digital broadcast completely, and free up much needed analog broadcast frequencies for other uses. Digital taking up a lot less bandwidth, this is a huge airwaves savings and generally a good thing™.

The down shot is that all these older TVs out there will need a digital to analog converter. Simply put, it's a STB (set-top-box) to put between the TV and the antenna, and bob's your uncle. Yep, it's that simple.

Hell, this little chunk of equipment will actually allow you to get High-Def digital TV from the ole' rabbit-ears! That's pretty damned cool.

And by the way, if you have a TV and, or VHS/DVD/HDD-recorder that is manufactured with an ATSC tuner built-in, just slap on the rabbit ears and enjoy!

The upshot for the Americans is that their government has seen fit to supply 40$ coupons to acquire these OTA STB for their old TV sets. Sweet!

The CRTC is still debating the entire conversion problem.

Furthermore, our beloved broadcasters aren't yet aligned with this whole digital conversion and would much rather you pay for your TV reception through a satellite or cable carrier. Then they don't have to fork out for the new fangled digital transmitters. Bastards.

But that's not my bitch-of-the-day. No.

Back to The Source by Circuit City. I walk all around the store looking for the piece of equipment that will allow my mom to tune into this new digital airwaves thingy. She lives near Montreal, so she should be well served with a plethora of transmitting antennae. The converter is nowhere to be found. I do spy some cool looking reception antennas but, since I don't have the converter, there's no point even looking at those yet.

Finally I break down and ask a nice fellow at the counter for some guidance. In French of course:

Me: "I'm looking for the converter to tune into the new digital broadcasts."

Gentleman-behind-the-counter(BTC): "That's illegal! We're not allowed to sell those!"

And he turns around tending to something or other.

Me: "What?"

Idiot-BTC: "That's FTA and it's illegal!"

Apparently I'm being annoying now.

Me: "What's FTA?"

I'd heard the term and knew enough to be a satellite term, and not airwaves.

Dickhead-BTC: "Free to Air."

Now he's just being condescending.

Me: "Then why do you have it on your web-site?"

I'm just getting way too smug, but also just so sickeningly pleasant, as I can be in these circumstances as I circle for the kill.

Idiot-BTC: "We do?"

Getting defensive are we? HA! Now I gotcha, you arrogant prick!

Me: "Uh, yeah. It's called an analog-to-digital TV converter and you have one brand I think it's TiVax or something like that on your website."

Moron-BTC: "What did you search for?"

Now he's realizing that not only did he speak out of turn, but didn't actually listen to what I was asking for, and furthermore is caught with his fly open on his own stock. He's typing away furiously on his terminal.

Me: "digital TV converter, DTV converter, something like that."

Dumb-fuck-BTC: "Tivax STB T8!"

Me: "That's the one."

Jackass-BTC: - reads off the entire freakin' description! -

Me: "Yep, that's it! Can I see one?"

Stupid-shit-BTC: "Nope, they are special order only!"

Me: "What? None of your stores carry any? Like none in the entire region?"

Dick-wad-BTC: "Nope, they are special order only."

Me: "Oh well, thank you very much, have a great day."

I can't help but roll my eyes on the way out.

Post mortem: I'll use a little baseball terminology since Canada was handed its ass by the Italians at the Baseball Classic thingy.

Strike 1: They actually do have them in stock at three other locations in Gatineau for a total of 5 units, and another three places in Ottawa for another 7 units. So the little fucker lies too! Hmm.

Strike 2: As for his opening statement, regarding FTA being illegal to sell? If it is, someone had better tell those satellite gear suppliers throughout Canada that they are being unlawful. So the fool is ill-informed to boot. This does not bode well.

Foul-ball: I can forgive him not knowing what he has in his store. Can't know everything! Although his attitude would clearly lend itself differently.

Strike 3: Mister-know-it-all not listening to the customer in the first place? Nope, sorry, that's strike-three nimble-nuts!

I bought a converter at Future-Shop instead.

No wonder Circuit City is going bankrupt. Duh!

Deserve Well

"What deserves doing deserves doing well."

I don't know who this was meant for, but it sure as hell is debilitating to me.

When I was in high-school, there was one teacher who I assume was severely depressive, in hindsight, who was reef on us over and over again, week after week always hammering home that we should apply ourselves, that it was truly disgraceful that no one knew proper French anymore, that we should be paying attention, often he would cry. The tirade would go on for 45 minutes, once a week. The class was supposed to be methodology or some such, but other than learning Dewey Decimal's name, well, it was for naught.

I'd come home crying myself, inasmuch as I did apply myself, and I would always do my level best in French class, and that I was always trying to pay attention in class. I was chagrined that this teacher would think I wasn't putting in max effort. My parents were a comfort, trying to make me understand that the teacher wasn't necessarily talking about me directly, maybe he was addressing those who weren't paying attention, etc. but to no avail. I remained distraught and what this teacher was saying kept hitting me, deep. I'm not claiming this particular episode eventually led to my being a perfectionist control freak, but it sure as hell didn't help.

As I look back on it now, this expression and that teacher are simply a representation of the times. To this day I still have problems with dissociating myself from self-imposed view of perfection.

Then the thought struck me: procrastination may well be a desire for perfection, and motivation being inversely proportional to possibility of a perfect task.

Let me explain. Let's say I'm gearing up to vacuum, a simple enough household task, or is it? I start planning which floor of the house I will start with. I select to start in the master bedroom.

Ok so far so good.

Then I think: I will need to gather the vacuum cleaner and attachments from the basement, two floors down; where did I put that dusting nozzle again? I should pick up the clothes lying all over the floor first; dump what's due for cleaning in the hamper, take the hamper downstairs and save a trip; fold the rest; must stow the missus' jewelry before dusting; I'll have to remake the bed seeing as some of the bedspread has slipped and is bunching up on the floor at the foot of the bed; then move the bed out and back into place; take the seat out from under the makeup commode; move the winter-chest away from the wall; I mustn't forget the slots to the wardrobe's sliding doors; I really should dust behind the window's bug screen too, so take those off; while the screens are off, may as well give a quick wipe down on the windows; since I'll have the Windex handy anyway, I'll do all the mirrors too.

Not that any of this is by any means overwhelming, it isn't, but I honestly get tired just thinking about it, and multiply it all over again for each room, with each their own quirks. And that's assuming the vacuum cleaner operating properly, that is the collection bag isn't full and the filter not too packed with dust.

All of a sudden, I really don't want to vacuum anymore. Small wonder!

Now, do I really have to do all of the above? Maybe I can take some of the edge off? Can't I get away with skipping the wardrobe slots and the mosquito screen and windows this week?

Ah, but: "What deserves doing deserves doing well."

So I suck it up, hunker down and do it all.

Bah, no biggy, it's just a vacuuming. Who cares?

Have a mental picture yet?

Now imagine if you will this very process, for every single little thing, all the time, every day.

Yeah. Perfection just isn't all it's cracked up to be.


Wednesday, March 11, 2009


My bitch of the day.

Seriously, what do you think of when someone says:

"There's a surge…"

I'm thinking, ok, something is active, in occurrence is rising, something rather significant in nature, a serious push likely upwards, from somekind of a low. A swell.

Ok, what about "soaring"?

I'm thinking Icarus here, altitudes worthy of gods, eagles, and possibly Boeing 747-400s, ya know? Lofty, not just high, we're talking out of sight.

You know what I'm saying, right?

Now if I say: "world stocks SOAR again on banking, etc. etc."

I don't know about you, but to me the use of the word soar in this context would means maybe tens of percentages, like a 20% increase would be a soaring!




Eight tenths of a percent. It's the major part of one percent, I'll grant you, but it's not even one whole percent!

What the fuck dictionary are these assholes using? Obviously these guys are better with numbers tha… oh no, wait, apparently not.

Ah, never mind.

Monday, March 09, 2009

Shaky Sue

In the spirit of true inanity, here is another one of those mining the depths of my memory for truly useless information.

Back in 1972, or was it 1973? we got the most awesomest of records. Yes, that's a vinyl record for those of you who remember such things as turntables. The record was Glitter – Gary Glitter. The funniest thing about this record as I look back on it now is that everyone, and I do mean everyone, knows at least one song off this record. Maybe not by name, but certainly would recognize the tune: be it Rock and Roll - Part 1 or Part 2.

So it is: Hockey fans worship Rock and Roll - Part 2! It's like 2 chords and one word: "Hey!"

I listened to this album over and over again, wearing it thin in spots. Amazing music to be sure. Hell it even had Gary doing a rendition of "Donna", originally from Ritchie Valens.

( Unfortunately for everyone, several years later, the musical genius known as Gary Glitter was defunct. The sad sordid tale of, real name, Paul Gadd took over. In Vietnam, he was tried, convicted and sent to jail, although he maintained he was innocent. Nevertheless, Glitter-music, the art, cannot be denied even though the human being may be totally reprehensible. )

Anyway, I bought the recut CD, but was missing the song below.

The lyrics aren't available anywhere and neither is the music, so in order to entertain as well as provide "useful" data, here are the lyrics to Shaky Sue, one of my favourite songs off the vinyl album, again as best I can remember seeing as I haven't actually heard it in many, many years.

Shaky Sue

Written by: Gary Glitter & Mike Leander (circa. 1972)
(as remembered by me!)

I'm a hard, hard man
With a head and a heart of stone
I pay no heed to the female weed
I can make a standing on my own
And then one night when the moon was bright
To the music of a slot(?) machine
I shook on and I lost my song
To a rock 'n' rollin' teenage queen
Shaky Sue!

Dancin' 'til the early morning light
Shaky Sue, Shaky Sue
Bring back a little love-light into my life,
Shaky Sue, Shaky Sue

Now I'm no fool
I'm a stubborn mule
But I knew I met my match at last
I got shrewd to my Shaky Sue
When I <intelligible> her on the dust(?) so fast
I asked her sittin'(?) on my knee
If she's dumb enough to be my wife
Well you can guess
Shaky Sue said yes
Now I'll be rock and rollin' the rest of my life
Shaky Sue!

Dancin' 'til the early morning light
Shaky Sue, Shaky Sue
Bring back a little love-light into my life,
Shaky Sue, Shaky Sue

(Repeat and fade)


It's Québec culture time!

I was surfing Youtube for some old songs with the missus this weekend, looking for TV show themes from our childhood. Given the search engine features in Youtube I got some more or less apropos suggestions. Nevertheless, I found this gem.

I remember seeing this kid on our state-of-the art 12-inch TV. It is vague, mind you, but I do remember it. Here is it reproduced, as I saw it, including horrendous recording quality, such was the technology of the time, and of course, in black and white.

His name is René Simard, born in Chicoutimi in 1961. He is arguably one of the most beloved Québécois artists of all time. I understand, from a very reliable source who's actually met the man, that he is a polite, caring, simple and genuine, and this is despite super-stardom status here in Québec.

Urban legend has it that the sound-board operators had to crank down the gain on the kid's microphone during the song, because he would routinely peg the meters. Raw power, insane talent. Stirring, truly stirring.

This particular recording is from a Canadian stage, probably 1970 or 1971, before his trip to Japan (1974) where he brought down the house.

And I've translated it for you below.

"L'Oiseau" (The Bird)

Je connais les brumes claires
La neige rose des matins d'hiver
Je pourrais te retrouver
Le lièvre blanc qu'on ne voit jamais
Mais l'oiseau, l'oiseau s'est envolé
Et moi jamais je ne le trouverai
Car j'ai vu, l'oiseau voler
J'ai vu l'oiseau, je sais qu'il partait
Je l'ai entendu pleurer
Le bel oiseau que le vent chassait

I know well the light mists
The pink snow of winter mornings
I could find it again for you
The white hare which we never see
But the bird, the bird has flown away
And I will never find it
Because I saw the bird fly
I saw the bird, I know he was leaving
I heard it crying
The beautiful bird that the wind chased away

Je voudrais tout te donner
Mais toi pourquoi ne me dis tu rien
Quel est-il ton grand secret
Un secret d'homme
Je le comprends bien
Mais tu sais je peux te raconter
Combien l'oiseau est parti à regret
Si un jour tu m'écoutais
Tu apprendrais tout ce que je sais
L'oiseau part et puis revient
Tu le verras peut-être demain

I want to give you everything
But why do you not tell me anything
What is it your great secret
A Man's secret
I understand so well
But you know I can tell you
The regret with which the bird left
If someday you really listened to me
You would learn all that I know
The bird leaves and then returns
Maybe you'll see it tomorrow

Si jamais je rencontrai
Ce bel oiseau qui s'est envolé
S'il revient de son voyage
Tout près de toi le long du rivage
Moi vois-tu je lui raconterais
Combien pour toi je sais qu'il a compté
C'est l'oiseau que tu aimais
L'oiseau jaloux je l'ai deviné
S'il revient de son voyage
Je lui dirais que tu l'attendais

If ever I meet
The beautiful bird that flew away
If ever it returns from its voyage
Near you on the shoreline
You see, I would tell it
How very much it meant to you
This bird whom you loved so
The jealous bird, I had guessed
If it returns from its voyage
I will let it know that you were waiting.

Friday, March 06, 2009

Cat in the World

My new cat is in to get fixed today, more specifically, getting some parts lopped off, as opposed to a repair.

As I stated in a previous post, this little bundle of black fur was rescued from the SPCA shelter where it had been abandoned. So in keeping with my philosophy of being responsible for my own pets, I brought him in for neutering and thereby doing my bit in reducing overpopulation. And also to ascertain my self-righteous stance regarding irresponsible and moronic idiots who let their pets proliferate unabated.

I understand their dilemma, mind you it's really a sorry-assed excuse for doing nothing, whereas who are we as humans to decide right to live upon wildlife? Yeah, right! The irresponsible pet owners don't want to fork over the cash to get their animals sorted out, that's what I think.

However, a thought about this whole wildlife thing pops into my head as I'm playing with my cat yesterday, but first, a little hindsight.

I'm using a bungee string to tease the cat into attacking, and trust me, it doesn't take much. More often than not, the cat is pawing and mewing at me to play with him.

Oddly enough, as with any child I suppose, the cat's coordination is getting better and better as I play with it. When I first got him, he'd chase a string and readily slam into adjacent walls. He'd leap and fall sideways and once fell plum on his back, to my greatest dismay! I figured there was something seriously wrong with this cat's sense of orientation. But In fact, all it took was a little playing.

His spatial perception is up to snuff now, as well as his motor control. He actually lands on his feet after jumping. He hasn't careened into any walls or furniture in a while either. It's really amazing how fast they learn. And I think he may be a south-paw.

I read in a cat-care book that cats need to play in order to develop these skills, whether with humans or with other cats for example. It is said that this chasing of strings, balls, mousy look-alikes and feathers on strings, among other things, is way for them to hone their hunting skills. Not that domesticated animals really need to hunt.

Then it comes to me.

I'm developing his hunting skills. Pause for thought.

Now I'm totally torn as to what to do! Certainly I want to keep playing with my cat. And he is very much a riot to watch. But how much intelligence should I put into all this playing?

It's one thing to play, "just 'cuz", but I realized that I would set up these scenarios for him, like hide the string just behind a blind corner, or have him jump from a running start to gain height, or not moving the ball on-a-string until I see him move, then make the ball escape, etc. You get the picture.

All of a sudden, I'm horrified to think that I'm contributing to developing a better hunter!

This is a problem.

I believe he'll be more successful at killing than if I leave well enough alone. I am sure of it. So some poor wildlife, or many wildlives, will die because of me and my cat! I am chagrined. On the other hand, better a clean kill than a maiming I suppose.

And then the real horror strikes me! I'm betting he'll want to show me his kills. Ick! I've created a monster, a very cute, soft, cuddly monster, but a monster nevertheless.

I wonder how cuddly he'll be with a mouth full of blood and claws clumped up with feather or fur.


Sunday, March 01, 2009

Response Ably

Once again a public-craze driven media reports on credit cards, or specifically the nefarious credit card companies, big bad meanies that they are.

According to a report on La Facture credit card companies are forcing their cards upon us, coercing us into obtaining too many cards! The strong arm tactics of these huge companies are too much to bear. Poor innocent people are getting their lives ruined by having too many cards in their possession. One poor schlep interviewed has four, count'em, FOUR credit cards, so of course his life is now over. It's a gruesome tale.

This is simply overwhelming. It is staggering really.

They pressure you to fill out applications for their cards, literally! You'll be walking in the mall minding your own business when an a-grade assaulter with a sixth-grade diploma will accost you violently and strong-arm you to provide a host of personal information thereby taking over your very life. The scene is horrific if you've ever been witness it will last some 10 minutes. 10 minutes of sheer torture where you can do NOTHING. Usually it involves a bully of massive proportions, typically one of those dangerous non-descript housewives looking for a side income, these monsters will stop at nothing to throw you down and beat the living daylights out of you to fill out an application. Violence is the order of the day.

Even in the relative safety of your own home, theses companies will send you unsolicited mail coercing you to apply for yet another credit card.

The intimidation doesn't stop there! They will harass you over the phone and brow-beat you into taking a card.

And if you refuse? Well by god, they might even make you some more offers!

And then, hell-on-earth, they will drive you to spend money you don't have. They will threaten you in the strongest possible language that you, unequivocally, must incur debt! Otherwise, well, otherwise, by all that is holy, they may send you yet another card!

Imagine, just imagine, having four credit cards! It boggles the mind, truly. I mean four credit cards? Seriously! FOUR! This is, of course, way too many for any human being to tolerate. It's truly unthinkable. For shame!

Oh where, oh where will it stop? When you have five cards? Or maybe even six? Oh the humanity!


It is a plague on the very stupid.

Unfortunately, it isn't fatal.