Where did our brains go?

Have my Ol' Three Faithful Readers gone to the movies lately?
 
As you might remember in the Fantastic Four movie a miscalculation from one of the world's greatest genius causes an accident to wash over them. Of course it all turns out for the good in the movie - that is why it is called fiction -; but here in real life miscalculations from "geniuses" cause this, this, this over here and finally this. Disasters.
 
These day we have been hearing a lot about the Discovery's piece of foam that broke from one of the tanks endagering the mission. Luckily, as I have read, the foam fell after the time critical first minutes of the launch thus reducing the risks of insta-boom action. The crew was even luckier when a large chunk of the foam fell and totally missed the Discovery... then another small piece fell and did hit the wing, acording to NASA, but it did no critical damage.
 
The sad part of everything is that just two and a half years ago a similar incident made the Columbia go in flames just minutes after take off back in February 1, 2003. NASA even cancelled all launches of future missions in order to fix the problem with the insulator and make later missions more safe. $1.4 billion dollars were spent, millions of computer simulations were run, many men burned their eye-lashes working extra hours and two and a half years went by.
 
For nothing.
 
We are in the year 2005, we have super computers, technology and what not and we still cannot make a space launching safe for the crew? We still have miscalculations, half-brewed solutions and disappointments. Now, if backing up all this missions are what I believe to be the greatest brains in the world and the best technology ever is not sufficient enough, if we are still losing space probes, shuttles and men with the best of the best behind them, then how am I supposed to believe that on July 20, 1969 we set foot on the moon? We cannot get it right now so how could we have gotten it right back then without all the technology, simulators and whatnot?
 
This makes me believe all those reports that the Apollo 11 never really did set foot on the Moon, and everything was recorded in a video set to make people believe. Besides, how could we know, it is not like any of us has actually seen the moon up close and personal. For all we knew hey could have shown us a picture of the Sahara desert and no one would have noticed.
 
Everything can mean only one thing: we human beings are getting stupidier. So dependant on computers to make simple calculations such as a multiplication for us that we forget how to use our brains. Think about it, if your PocketPC can now hold all your phone numbers, addresses, to-do lists, meetings and just about anything else, does it not mean now you would have more of your brain free to waste on useful stuff?
 
Here's the inside scoop: we normally use around 10% of our brains and lets just suppose that thanks to the help of all technology we save up 2% of our brain use; shouldn't we then be 2% more smarter using the extra brain power to cure the world from cancer? Just imagine what we could accomplish with that generous amount of extra brain! But too much Nintendo, too many movies and too much sex is in what we use our extra brain muscle in. Television takes our brains away; so now we waste it in learning character moves from 100 video games, the complete chapter lists from Friends and senseless horror movies.
 
Then again I will not complain much. Thanks to that extra 2% we have better Nintendos, better movies and better sex.

Of Healing...

It has recently come to my attention, my Ol' Three Faithful Readers, that "time heals all wounds."
 
If this were actually a movie, what you would see is a man on the ground convulsing with pain and foamy saliva expelling from his nostrils as we fade to black. As a melodramatic effect birds and sounds of nature would come out of the THX-Certified Surround Sound Audio System as the screen slowly fades into a very pintoresque imagery of the country side being bathed with sunlight as a jolly butterfly moves from one flower to the other. Cut to the same man we saw in excrusiating pain waking up in a bed, all patched up; slowly he would pick up himself from the bed and walk towards the terrace to enjoy the fresh morning air.
 
If this were my movie, this is the part where a bear would come out of nowhere and tear him to bits. Fortunately it is not.
 
Actually this is about what I found to be the cure to healing all kinds of wounds: scratches, sores, broken bones, headaches, emotional scars, spiritual pain and yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, even broken hearts. It can cure almost any ailment thrown at a human being. Treatment may vary from person to person but the results are 100% guaranteed or we give you your disease back free of charge. This magical cure is: sleep. Because sleep takes time which in turn heals all wounds.
 
Sleep has many positive effects on human beings. One of them for example is homeostasis; do not look so bewildered, I will tell you what it is. Homeostasis is the process by which we try to maintain a constant level or flow of something in our bodies. Say, keeping our body regulated at a constant temperature of 98.6F. Sleep helps keep all homeostatical needs - I just invented that term - stable in our bodies.
 
Others say it is during this period of sleep when we permanently learn or discard all the information that we stored in our brains during the day - in a manner similar to RAM on a computer. Further studies show that our brain repairs itself while we sleep. And behavioral scientists have concluded that sleep is an activity designed to bring together sexual mates everynight, therefore increasing the time they spend together further allowing to be involved in sexual activities to reproduce the species. Wow, sleep is good.
 
Now, you may be asking yourself how you can obtain this magial cure. It is easy! Because sleeping is a homeostasical activity in itself we need a certain amount of time dedicated to sleep. It is free! But if for some reason you are having trouble sleeping then I will share with you another magical recipe: Tylenol PM.
 
You read right Ladies and Gentlemen; nothing can cure broken hearts, emotional scars or hurt prides better than two, not one, not three, but two pills of Tylenol PM as indicated in the container's label. Unless of course, you are a big person like me then I fully authorize you to actually take three of them to fall fast asleep. If you actually need to be taken down like a rapid animal you can try four, but that depends a lot in your metabolism. Case in point: if you have a body complexion similar to The God of Lighting's - which should be read as barely having a body complexion at all -, then I would never, ever suggest taking more than two unless you are willing to risk sleeping forever; something I really would not recommend.
 
So there you have it! Solve your problems with a good night's sleep. And if the Sandman refuses to visit you with his "magic sleeping powder" made from the living flesh and blood of happy-go-lucky fairies, you can always try Tylenol PM like I did yesterday. I was completely taken out like a rock with four of the damn little buggers. BAM! Did not know what hit me.
 
But wait! If you call right now we will give you a free month's sample of Pepto Bismol, to keep things tidy in your belly. This way you can prevent any explosive activities in your colon while paying a hard, cold visit to Neverland. Aaah. Tylenol PM and Pepto Bismol... a match made in heaven.
 
Thank you Tylenol PM!

Why the Biggest Ass in the World doesn't care for chickens

Hello my Ol' Three Faithful Readers!
 
For reason unknown and beyond my bare, human, limited and mortal comprehension suddenly many people I know have turned into animal protectors of sorts; some even turning to PETA *shudders at thought* and with certain iniciations into the vegetarian lifestyle. I try to respect most people and their beliefs, yes, but vegetarians do not quite make click on my head. I do not know what it is exactly, but I ask myself: "How can I trust a person who does not eat good, tasty and greasy barbecue with his bare fingers like the vile animals we are supposed to be?"
 
It so happens that one day, for further reasons unknown, I find myself at a bar where they are serving free meat - yes, you read right, 100% free. Of course this stirs up some convesation between my companions and suddenly they are telling the Holy Athenian Knight about how KFC breeds and kills their chicken. If I must be honest, I was not paying much attention but I did gather it was kinda gory, messy and sometimes not quite... succesful resulting in the live-roasting of the chicken. Hum, yummy!
 
The Holy Athenian Knight was impressed and upset. Like he had pictured all the headless, tortured, squished and cut-up chicken in his head. After some general expressions of disgoust in the table I promptly and non-galantly add: "Want to know what I think?" I make a strategically well put silence to get their attention as they all stare at me with anticipation; tricks of the trade you learn with acting: timing. After a second that must have seen like an eternity to my audience I finally respond: "Does it matter?"
 
Questioning eyebrowns are raised. Wide open eyes stare back at me. Some recoil with aversion. The Holy Athenian Knight exclaims: "Dude... it's torture... c'mon." To this, I proceed to explain to them my reasoning: Does it matter how they kill the poor thing? It is still going to be killed and served in my plate for me to munch on. So, does it matter at all? Yes, I do understand it might not be in the prettiest of ways, maybe some ways of killing cattle are way too harsh but in the end their are still gonna be dead and I am still going to eat them.
 
Out from the faces of shock at my, I must admit, heartless words I notice a dead-cold stare looking straight at me as if wanting to pierce a cold sword thru my skull. The Annoying Voice tells me with sincere bewilderment and poison in her voice: "You know, sometimes I do not understand you. How can you be so heartless and emotionless and be an actor?" Wow, some would have been taken back to lick their wounds. But I had my answer: "Just imagine! I am so good at pretending I have emotions, that I even win Best Actor in a Starring Role awards!" Following act: I bite me free meat.
 
Yet, when I come down to think about it, there really are reasons for me to be so heartless and maybe on certain ocassions pretend to be so to hide my emotional - or shall we say, weak side - from the others. It is ocassions like these when I open up my true self and suddenly start letting the emotions flow through because of something or someone. I cherish them and I live them; like fantasies and images floating around the air of things I long, passions and care.
 
But what heppens then? People do not show up at appointed times; people dismiss my signs of appreciation; people take my dreams away; people call me mediocre; friends disappear and barely remember me; dogs piss on my boots. And when you sum it all up let me put it in a pretty good mental picture of the idea: It is like this three stage circus announcer standing with a piece of my heart in his hands speaking to the public:
 
"Ladies and gentlemen! In my hand I have right now a piece of The World's Biggest Asshole's heart. For your entertainement I will now squish, spit and step on it. Afterwards you will able to see an amazing, incredible and jurassic mega fat japanese sumo whom we have carefully selected to have the most hairy, sweatty and smelly behind will take a huge dump on the piece of heart. Then he shall take it and clean his hairy, sweatty behind with it but not without first taking on the world's longest pee on a heart world record. Afterwards we shall set it on fire and finally, and ladies and gentlemen this is not for the faint of heart - any pregnant women or people with medical conditions please leave the stage; we will flush it down the toilet!" *flush* *insert general gasp from the audience, ladies pass out, men squirm in their seats and children burst in laughter*
 
So forgive me If I do not care for the poor chickens.

Generations

Welcome back my friend to the blog that never ends; we're so glad you came along, move along, move alone.
 
Something of note happened yesterday; there was this party that involved the reunion of people from my secondary school, which is something like 7-9th grade for you Americans. And as it so happens that I do not get along or have been keeping contact with most of those people I decided to happily go since, as they say, curiosity was killing me like a cat. Curiosity to know what had been of their lives.
 
Or rather, if they had life at all.
 
My first surprise was when some people did not recognize me at first sight and to some I actually had to say who I was to enlighten their minds. Instead of being upset by it I actually found it pretty comic. Have I changed so much? Hell, I looked at them and immediatly I knew who they were or at least knew I was supposed to know them but found no correlation of their mugs to a name in my brain's synapses. Maybe my overgrown hair and beard where not what they were expecting at all.
 
So, you know, these are people you have not seen for seven years; therefore you tried to catch up with some of them... gossip... you know... the usual... who's gotten pregnant, who died, memories of that king sized schitt at the toilet, breaking windows with the football and old, crazy teachers. I got to be honest, others I did not care if they were there or not, if they were studying or not and pretty much less interested if they were actually alive. Yet I have to say some cought me by surprise; suddenly people who had never done well in math are studying Aerospace and Mechanical Engineering like it's kindergarten to them.
 
Maybe in some ways that cought me off guard. I will not beat around the bush and say that yes, I was... am... somewhat of your classical geek, intelligent guy. Somewhat being the keyword. So I felt kinda odd when people asked me what I was studying and I answered non-galantly: "Well, I pretend to study computer system engineering in my free time. But I mostly spend my time in theater." My take is that the twisted, funny faced they did were because one of two reasons:
  • They did not expect me, who came out the 2nd highest grade average at the time, to be wasting his brain and time in such a stupid and worthless activity such as theater; or
  • Now that I think about it, my answer sounds a bit like computer system engineering is kindergarten to me... heh... and they thought I was insulting their intelligence.
... not that I think about it... the worst part is probably I am wasting my brain and time in theater, computer system engineering is like kindergarten to me to some of them I was insulting their intelligence.
 
I'm such a devil.
 
And then I spent around four hours of my life talking to people whom I had not crossed a word even back then when we were at school. It made me wonder: "Why? Why the hell did we not get along back in the old days? What was it that even made us antagonist at some points?" If I must be honest, I had a good time and the changes on some of us from back at that time to now are funny and grand. I wonder where we will all end up in....
 
Still, another matter arises that also circles around my head. Speaking to another friend he suddenly asks: "Who are these people? Do I know them?" He makes a clear point when you think about it. Though we spent three years of our lives together, and with some even up to nine/ten years, it has been over 7 years since the last time we saw or even spoke to one another. Who are these people indeed.
 
Yes, I walked in and some greeted by name, others I had to think a little about it before remembering and other I had to pretend I knew who they were and then ask another person who the heck that was. After picking a safe spot with the prescious few friend whom I kept contect with there was silence. Who are all those strangers whose faces I remember, names I know and laughter once shared? After seven years of not knowing anything about them it is like meeting someone new for the first time. A blank page.
 
Perfect strangers. In the end that's what they are.

Why the World's Biggest Ass doesn't lead a country

Hello there my Ol' Three Faithful Readers!

I intended to put all my memories from my trip to the Old World in here. But see here, my memory works in misterious ways and I barely remember what I did yesterday.

... okay, that was a plain lie for all to see. I do remember what I did yesterday since it is the reason I have now self-proclaimed my self with the honorable title of "The World's Biggest Asshole." And no, you cannot be a contestant for it. Back in the day, if you remember my second post I called myself an ass; yesterday's story is somewhat related. You can see that here.

But that, as they say, is a story for another day maybe.

Right now, I'm going to write to you about why I don't lead a country. Today, or yesterday rather, London was attacked again; not as big as last time but yet it makes me red with anger. You see, if back in 9/11 I had lead the US, after the images of the people in Irak dancing and smiling because of the attacks I would have used my Executive Powers over the Navy to say: "Wipe the smile off the faces of those children. By any means necesary." Afterwards I would have made sure Baghdad were not in the map anymore; just as a clear point nobody threatens my country like that.

Had I been Blair on July 7 I would have come out and said: "Well, we are here at the G8 Summit trying to work something out to help other countries. Yet, I have about a thousand manifestants outside interfering our work. And after these attacks I think I understand the message you are trying to give us: you certainly don't want our help. So as far as I am concerned, we can all pack our bags and go home to our beds and wives. Good evening, hope you don't die of hunger."

And now, here they go again with the same blues.

Not only that. Want to know more irony? The Live 8 concert was to stop poverty and hunger in Africa. I will and cannot deny it is a noble objective. Still a day after the concert took place I was in Versalles where they were taking apart all the concert's structures and all schitt. But what amazed me was the amounts, and I mean huge amounts of this:

Big piles of wasted bread not consumed in the concert thrown on the streets to rot. My take? Nice way to stop hunger in Africa guys. Would it not be more coherent to send that unused bread over to the hungry? Nah, it is too expensive I guess; at least more expensive than just throwing it in the streets to grow fungus. Oh yeah, but we take the soda back to the warehouse.

For some reason I think we could officially label all this "terrorism" World War III, because that is clearly what it is: a war. And that too is the reason why The World's Biggest Asshole doesn't lead a country; because that is exactly how he would interpret it. Luckily I am just a Computer System Engineering student whom's career doesn't appear in the school's plans anymore and pretends to be an actor in his free time all the while managing to be The World's Biggest Asshole. Which, if I so kindly add, is not an easy job. No sire.

In any case, if you want to find out how good I would be at leading a country you can always check The Rogue Nation of Naked Dancing Chimps by clicking this link over here. It is still a young nation, but maybe one day it will flourish.

Ladies and Gentlement, the World's Biggest Asshole is leaving the stage. *bows* Thank you for your attention.