In Case Anybody Actually Gives a Crap

           

            (I don’t have time to write a bona fide post right now, partly because I just used the expression “bona fide” and I now have to find out what it actually means. To make up for this, I’ll make a truly magnificent post tomorrow. You watch. It’ll have everything! Action, adventure, romance, horror, pictures of cats wearing hats- you name it, and I’ll claim that it has it. I expect it to win no less than three thousand academy awards and cure twice as many types of cancer.)

The Benny Hill March

            (Every so often, I get the feeling that somebody is watching me. Then I realize that I’m just looking in a mirror. Then I smash the mirror, because I’ve seen too much to allow myself to just walk out of the room. Of course, then I’m just left with a bunch of smaller mirrors, all of whom have seen what I’ve done to the original one. This is where the day gets complicated.)

Captains Log: Stardate, 64888.2

            Alright. Considering that I included “family pictures” in my previous post, I can only assume that the entire internet universe has become enraptured in my obvious brilliance and my blog has become the focal point of no fewer than fifteen major religions. Because of this, it saddens me to imagine the devastation that must have occurred as a result of this post being delayed for two days. Unfortunately, it’s hard for me to actually go out and witness this sad state of affairs in the world due to a recent anomaly in my place of residence that causes my front door to lead into my closet, which has had a negative impact on both my access to the outside world and my understanding of Euclidian geometry.

            So anyway, I’ve been reduced to speculation on the state of the world following what will inevitably be deemed “The Great Post Absence of 2011”. The troubles would have started around noon on Thursday, when it became evident that my loose definition of “Wednesday” was over and no post was in sight. This revelation would have undoubtedly thrown all of the developed nations of the world into a global war of unprecedented proportions: The United Kingdom invades France, France invades Spain, Spain invades the United Kingdom, and the three armies chase each other in a gigantic loop to a dramatic rendition of “Yakkity Saks”! The United States simultaneously invades Canada and Mexico, but is beaten back by Canada’s secret army of steam-powered robot Mounties and the fact that Mexico is Mexico! The Prime Minister of Japan presses a single button, accessible only to him, which turns Tokyo into a gigantic city-sized mech that seeks vengeance against those who dare not to be city-sized mechs! Greenland, sick of being ignored in all of this mess, rolls its entire landmass into a gigantic sphere that rolls across the Earth like the Katamari from hell!

            Of course, I have no way of actually determining whether this is true. Actually, the fact that I haven’t been crushed by a Greenland-Katamari kicked by the Tokyo-Mech casts some doubt upon my suppositions. This leads me to assume that the uproar caused by my slight delay in posting has been confined to mass urban uprisings, and the governments of the world are too occupied in controlling these to be engaging in warfare on a comically large scale, which saddens me to no end.

Meta

            (Who would win in a fight: Glasnot or Perestroika?)

            Something has been bothering me as of late regarding this blog. You see, when I started this blog on that fateful day 57 years ago, it was with the intention that it never would be read by anybody. It was to be an insignificant wart festering silently on the backside of the internet, serving as sort of a contrast to the nearby loud, irregularly shaped wart that is 4chan, whom I mention here exclusively because I have now been trolled and I’ve found it invigorating.

            However, I’ve recently gained three followers. I don’t know If they actually read what I write, but I certifies that this website has actually been seen, thus depriving me of my wart strategy. Because of this, I’ve made a slight alteration in my plan: instead of being completely unnoticed, my blog is going to be the single most popular thing the internet has ever had the privilege to bear witness to. Tvtropes shall be a mere shadow in the face of my time-wasting glory! World of Warcraft will see a mass exodus as its followers choose to pore over my ramblings like religious texts rather than debating twelve year olds over how much they should have to pay for the Giga Sword of Unholy Death (5 damage)! Facebook shall serve merely as the census for my magnificent empire! Lolcats will… maintain their dominance, in all probability. But it matters not! The conquest begins today! Step one: actually getting people to read this blog.

            That part is probably going to be an uphill battle. Looking around at my fellow narcissists, I’ve noticed three things about most other blogs:

            1. Their posts tend to be along the lines of “Sara lost her first tooth today guess that means I’m going to have to find some quarters LOL!!!!”

            2. These posts are typically accompanied by a large photograph of Sara with her missing tooth and the blogger, indeed, LOLing, with an expression that indicates that this moment is worthy of at least four exclamation marks.

            3. These blogs tend to have more followers than mine.

            You might be saying that these followers could be fellow family members. Shut up, in that case. I see correlation, and everybody knows that correlation implies causation. With that in mind, I present Hal’s family blog:

Here we are some sort of beach! I still have fond memories of that semitransparent "iStockphotos" logo that would follow us around in those days.

The people on the left aren’t actually related to me. I just saw them taking a picture, and decided that I wanted in on the action. You’re actually seeing me mid-tackle. How I got the camera from them is another story entirely.

I think this one is fairly self-explanatory.

As I recall, this is the reason we gave up witchcraft.

Buttons Bother Me As Well

            (Sometimes I just write out a beginning sentence at random and work from there.) 

            There are many things that perplex me. The nature of life and philosophy in the universe. Why humans cannot coexist among themselves without conflict. What those two buttons on the side of my mouse do. What happens if you weld a manhole cover shut while a maintenance worker is still in the sewers (UPDATE: Tested this one out; it turns out that he gets really, really angry). Why there was a flock of birds lined up in front of a kiosk for a Stanley Kubrick film festival.

            The question that presses against my mind at the moment like a large man on the subway who insists that he’s getting off “right away” for 30 stops straight, thereby causing you to bolt off at an unfamiliar stop out of desperation and randomly ride various trains trying to get back to a familiar location like a slightly more urine-soaked version of Moses’ Exodus, is why society demands that I wear a suit- that is to say, a dress jacket and pants, tie, and buttoned shirt- on any and all formal occasions.

            “Society,” I say, quoting myself in my own blog as if this whole affair wasn’t tautological enough. “Can you please explain what makes a suit such an ideal thing to wear in any occasion that is to be treated with dignity?”

            Naturally, society doesn’t respond, because I’ve been remembering to take my medication lately. Unfortunately, that leaves the question still open for debate between myself. Take the concept of the “tie”, for example, a garment that literally serves no function other than to be tied incorrectly, thus earning oneself the implicit wrath of the universe at large.

            In and of itself, a tie isn’t all that bad. After all, we do a lot of pointless things as a society, and I’ve rationalized most of these by working under the assumption that a lot of people are pointless. What bothers me is that they have become associated with any position of dignity. Think about it: when was the last time you pictured a cabal of government secret agents doing reconnaissance in an unmarked van while wearing polo shirts and khakis? And, conversely, when was the last time you saw a smartly dressed hobo?

            It isn’t as if wearing a suit is always the most effective strategy in a tight fashion situation. For example, it’s often been said that a judge is more likely to treat a defendant with respect if they come to court wearing the traditional jacket-tie-pants combo. I contest that supposition. I can say from personal experience that the outfit that garners the most sympathy from a judge is not a “monkey suit”, so to speak, but rather a literal monkey suit.