As we all know, earthquakes are caused by promiscuous women. This breaking news from the Middle East caught my eye and made my wife giggle.
The source of this revelation, Hojatoleslam Kazem Sedighi, is a senior Iranian cleric who apparently had failing grades in Science and could have benefited from a refresher course in Logic.
Mr. Sedighi claims that women who wear revealing clothing, lead innocent young men astray, and conduct themselves in a manner considered seductive are the root cause of Iranian families being buried under tons of rubble.
I could understand if he had pitched this wild plot to a local film director to depict the growing strength and influence of women. But without the underpinnings of a broad spoof or satire, it crumbles under its own weight.
According to this cleric, the wanton women of Iran are clearly more powerful than the scores of tectonic fault lines straddling the city.
But why limit lustful women with the singular and seismic power to induce earthquakes? Let's stretch the boundaries. Imbue them with the ability to choose and create tsunamis, hurricanes, floods, volcanic eruptions, and other natural disasters.
Who knows? Women with a relaxed moral code could also be the ones responsible for hunger, drought, and global warming.
Women in that part of the world aren't laughing like my wife did about the absurdity of being blamed for earthquakes. Perhaps they don't want to be humiliated, tortured, killed--or have all of the above done to their families.
And finally, President Ahmadinejad –when told that an earthquake hitting Iran could kill as many as 12 million inhabitants-- suggested that they move.
@#$%&@
Friday, April 23, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
IF IT'S NOT ALIVE, IT SHOULDN'T BE TALKING.
In the world of advertising commercials, inanimate objects have far too much to say.
I've been spoken to, hollered at, and nagged by such things as chairs, clocks, windows, ovens, the sun, detergents, a tub of margarine, a sandwich, soda cans, razor blades, a beard, sneakers, a bucket of water, and a toilet with attitude.
I don't know where ad folks got the idea that objects with no pulse and therefore no credibility would be a smart solution for selling products and services. “The way that pothole talked to me, I just knew I had to replace my brakes immediately.”
I'm also not too fond of a talking Gecko with an Australian accent that acts worldly and sophisticated and talks to me in a condescending manner. Geckos, in the reptile family, are mostly found in India and Australia. Normally they make chirping or croaking sounds to communicate with one another. But the one from Geico has far exceeded his chirp and croak limitations by becoming a pitchman for a major brand.
For reasons that could be construed as inconsistent on my part, I seem to be okay with icons like Tony the Tiger, Mr. Clean, Mr. Peanut, The Jolly Green Giant, and Speedy Alka-Seltzer. I guess it's the common objects that suddenly come alive and try to be hip and persuasive that rub me the wrong way.
I'll tell you one thing. Any inanimate object that shouts at me to buy something is in big trouble. I swear, and I mean it, I will yell at my TV! These lifeless forms don't know who they're messing with.
@#$%&@
I've been spoken to, hollered at, and nagged by such things as chairs, clocks, windows, ovens, the sun, detergents, a tub of margarine, a sandwich, soda cans, razor blades, a beard, sneakers, a bucket of water, and a toilet with attitude.
I don't know where ad folks got the idea that objects with no pulse and therefore no credibility would be a smart solution for selling products and services. “The way that pothole talked to me, I just knew I had to replace my brakes immediately.”
I'm also not too fond of a talking Gecko with an Australian accent that acts worldly and sophisticated and talks to me in a condescending manner. Geckos, in the reptile family, are mostly found in India and Australia. Normally they make chirping or croaking sounds to communicate with one another. But the one from Geico has far exceeded his chirp and croak limitations by becoming a pitchman for a major brand.
For reasons that could be construed as inconsistent on my part, I seem to be okay with icons like Tony the Tiger, Mr. Clean, Mr. Peanut, The Jolly Green Giant, and Speedy Alka-Seltzer. I guess it's the common objects that suddenly come alive and try to be hip and persuasive that rub me the wrong way.
I'll tell you one thing. Any inanimate object that shouts at me to buy something is in big trouble. I swear, and I mean it, I will yell at my TV! These lifeless forms don't know who they're messing with.
@#$%&@
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
INAPPROPRIATE RESPONSES
For reasons that defy explanation and are a major source of grouchiness, we sometimes say things to people that make no sense and can't be retrieved once we spit them out.
Last week I myself fell victim to this grating absurdity. I was walking along Third Avenue in New York City heading for a nearby supermarket when a stranger comes out of nowhere and accidentally bumps into me.
Before I could say, “Watch where you're going, asshole” – the bumper topples the reputation of New Yorkers as loud and rude by smiling and quietly saying, “I'm sorry.”
My bizarrely moronic reply was, “You're welcome.”
You're welcome? What the hell was I thinking? Why such a segue glitch in my brain circuit? Any positive outcome of this brief encounter was quickly snuffed out and replaced by the bumper having an odd story to tell his friends.
Since that day I have heard other people practicing their meaningless exchanges.
“Say hello to your mother for me.”
“You, too.”
“Excuse me.”
“Thank you.”
“Don't stay out too late.”
“I will.”
I was at a movie one night, sitting on an aisle seat, and this fidgety teenager sitting next to me kept getting up and walking past me. After making me stand up for the fifth time, the kid must have realized he was being a nuisance and said to me: “I'm going to the bathroom, can I get you anything?”
If you're going to misspeak, try committing a Malapropism. A Malaprop, as you know, is derived from the famous literary character, Mrs. Malaprop. And is the act of misusing words in a ridiculous manner – the verbal derailment often leading to a humorous outcome.
Some of my favorite Malapropisms come from politicians and other fools.
“They have miscalculated me as a leader.”
“It will take time to restore chaos and order.”
“Republicans understand the importance of bondage between a mother and child.”
“The police are not here to create disorder, they're here to preserve disorder.”
“We cannot let terrorists and rogue nations hold this nation hostile or hold our allies hostile.”
As Shakespeare once said, “Comparisons are odorous.” But I think you get the idea. The clever message in your head is not always the one that reaches your intended receiver.
@#$%&@
Last week I myself fell victim to this grating absurdity. I was walking along Third Avenue in New York City heading for a nearby supermarket when a stranger comes out of nowhere and accidentally bumps into me.
Before I could say, “Watch where you're going, asshole” – the bumper topples the reputation of New Yorkers as loud and rude by smiling and quietly saying, “I'm sorry.”
My bizarrely moronic reply was, “You're welcome.”
You're welcome? What the hell was I thinking? Why such a segue glitch in my brain circuit? Any positive outcome of this brief encounter was quickly snuffed out and replaced by the bumper having an odd story to tell his friends.
Since that day I have heard other people practicing their meaningless exchanges.
“Say hello to your mother for me.”
“You, too.”
“Excuse me.”
“Thank you.”
“Don't stay out too late.”
“I will.”
I was at a movie one night, sitting on an aisle seat, and this fidgety teenager sitting next to me kept getting up and walking past me. After making me stand up for the fifth time, the kid must have realized he was being a nuisance and said to me: “I'm going to the bathroom, can I get you anything?”
If you're going to misspeak, try committing a Malapropism. A Malaprop, as you know, is derived from the famous literary character, Mrs. Malaprop. And is the act of misusing words in a ridiculous manner – the verbal derailment often leading to a humorous outcome.
Some of my favorite Malapropisms come from politicians and other fools.
“They have miscalculated me as a leader.”
“It will take time to restore chaos and order.”
“Republicans understand the importance of bondage between a mother and child.”
“The police are not here to create disorder, they're here to preserve disorder.”
“We cannot let terrorists and rogue nations hold this nation hostile or hold our allies hostile.”
As Shakespeare once said, “Comparisons are odorous.” But I think you get the idea. The clever message in your head is not always the one that reaches your intended receiver.
@#$%&@
Monday, February 15, 2010
MAKING THE MOST OF A WRETCHED EXISTENCE
Far too much time and money is squandered on trying to think positively. And don't ask me if I prefer a glass that's half full or half empty. If you're giving me a glass of something, fill the damn thing up.
Last year the self-help industry spent $11 billion trying to convince people that their miserable lives and destructive outlook could be turned around just by reading their books and thinking happy thoughts.
I think the possibility of that happening is slim.
If anyone is still interested in what's right instead of what's lucrative, the following warning should be mandatory on the cover of every self-help book: Continually harping on positivity could result in deeper depressions and even lower self-esteem.
The way to improve your life is to embrace your shortcomings. Instead of making yourself sick over your imperfections, learn to look on the bright side of failure and incompetence.
When bosses or other authority figures ask you to give 110%, tell them you can maybe scrape up 60% of their illogical request and that's about it. See, already the pressure to make something of yourself, to gain recognition and respect is lifting.
Without the need to constantly prove your worth, life becomes sweeter, simpler, and almost bearable. Here are a few motivational downers to live by--otherwise known as a list of books I have recently published to less than rave reviews:
JUST SAY NO TO SELF-ESTEEM
GETTING YOUR HOPES DOWN
BUSTING YOUR OWN BALLOONS
RAINING ON YOUR OWN PARADE
STEPPING ON ROSE-COLORED GLASSES
THE JOY OF SELLING YOURSELF SHORT
You can look for any of these books in the LIVING WITH DEPRESSION section of your bookstore or library.
Research has been conducted suggesting that high self-esteem is often associated with bullies, criminals, and others with a tendency toward violent behavior. Consider yourself lucky that you have nothing in common with these deviants.
Contrary to opinions held by the vast majority, a toxic atmosphere of cynicism –if applied diligently--can be both healthy and healing.
One last thought to put your life into perspective. Rather than believe that good things are just around the corner, imagine that while you're crossing the street whistling, a large truck is speeding toward you with a drunken driver and no brakes.
@#$%&@
Last year the self-help industry spent $11 billion trying to convince people that their miserable lives and destructive outlook could be turned around just by reading their books and thinking happy thoughts.
I think the possibility of that happening is slim.
If anyone is still interested in what's right instead of what's lucrative, the following warning should be mandatory on the cover of every self-help book: Continually harping on positivity could result in deeper depressions and even lower self-esteem.
The way to improve your life is to embrace your shortcomings. Instead of making yourself sick over your imperfections, learn to look on the bright side of failure and incompetence.
When bosses or other authority figures ask you to give 110%, tell them you can maybe scrape up 60% of their illogical request and that's about it. See, already the pressure to make something of yourself, to gain recognition and respect is lifting.
Without the need to constantly prove your worth, life becomes sweeter, simpler, and almost bearable. Here are a few motivational downers to live by--otherwise known as a list of books I have recently published to less than rave reviews:
JUST SAY NO TO SELF-ESTEEM
GETTING YOUR HOPES DOWN
BUSTING YOUR OWN BALLOONS
RAINING ON YOUR OWN PARADE
STEPPING ON ROSE-COLORED GLASSES
THE JOY OF SELLING YOURSELF SHORT
You can look for any of these books in the LIVING WITH DEPRESSION section of your bookstore or library.
Research has been conducted suggesting that high self-esteem is often associated with bullies, criminals, and others with a tendency toward violent behavior. Consider yourself lucky that you have nothing in common with these deviants.
Contrary to opinions held by the vast majority, a toxic atmosphere of cynicism –if applied diligently--can be both healthy and healing.
One last thought to put your life into perspective. Rather than believe that good things are just around the corner, imagine that while you're crossing the street whistling, a large truck is speeding toward you with a drunken driver and no brakes.
@#$%&@
Saturday, February 6, 2010
THE TROUBLE WITH PLANETS
The 8 planets (9 if you're counting Pluto) are too distant to get emotionally involved with, and most of them are poorly named.
SATURN is the 6th planet from the sun and has been known since prehistoric times, which strikes me as odd. I wasn't aware that cavemen were big on celestial diaries. In case you missed school on the day this was discussed, the wind on Saturn blows at high speeds, reaching 1100 miles an hour near the equator. In the unlikely event that the wind is accompanied by rain, it would be wise to leave your umbrella at home.
MARS is the 4th planet from the sun. As you no doubt are aware, its reddish appearance is due to the prevalence of iron oxide. What makes no sense to me is that the planet is named after Mars, the Roman god of war. Why link war with Mars? What battles have they fought? The only war I'm aware of dates back to 1938 when Martians invaded New Jersey in a classic radio episode narrated and directed by Orson Welles. Given our tenacious combative history, it would have made far greater sense for EARTH to be called MARS.
EARTH, as you no doubt recall from the old TV show, is the third rock from the sun. So far it's the only planet in the universe where life is known to exist. An interesting fact is that over 70% of the earth's surface is covered with oceans. So why do we call it EARTH? Why not call it WATER or OCEANUS? Or we could get fancier, a little more upscale, and call it AQUEOUS.
PLUTO used to be, without question, the 9th planet. But in 2006, it was reclassified as a “dwarf planet” by astronauts who didn't consider it a planet at all. They were put off by its diminutive dimensions and loopy orbiting patterns. Personally, I wish they would stop picking on PLUTO. And why name a planet after Mickey Mouse's pet dog? But at least it's better than GOOFY.
NEPTUNE was named after the Roman god of the sea. It's believed to have a rocky core and be surrounded by a huge ocean of water, hence the NEPTUNE reference. It's also assumed that methane gas gives the planet its “blue planet” nickname. But I believe the blue comes from the severe cold. The temperature of one of its moons, Triton, is minus 391 degrees Fahrenheit. But my favorite thing about NEPTUNE is that scientists think the carbon in its atmosphere causes it to rain giant diamonds. But don't start packing as there's no surface to stand on to show off your priceless new bling.
JUPITER is the largest planet in the solar system. All the other planets could fit comfortably inside it. In fact, it would take 318 EARTHS to fill it up. There's a big red spot on JUPITER cleverly named “The Great Red Spot.” It's a 300-year-old storm that's as wide as 3 EARTHS. So instead of playing it safely and naming it after some Roman god, they should have called it GIGANTIS or HUMONGUS or BIG MOTHER.
MERCURY was named by the Romans after the fleet messenger of the gods. It seems the Romans spent a lot of time thinking up names for planets. If they spent less time on this and more time on fighting off the hordes of invading barbarians, maybe The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire could have been avoided.
Here's something for people struggling with their weight to consider. If you weighed 200 pounds on EARTH, you would only weigh 76 pounds on MERCURY. The only catch is –and there's always a catch—it's impossible to breathe there. So your impressive weight loss would be brief.
VENUS is obviously named after the Roman Goddess of Love. And it's the only planet named after a female. While this may or may not be a coincidence, VENUS is also the hottest place in the solar system. Because of its brightness, it's also known as “The Morning Star” and “The Evening Star.” Obviously there are definite romantic aspects to this planet. So on behalf of this sizzling hot planet, let me wish you all a very Happy Valentine's Day.
And don't get me started on URANUS.
@#$%&@
SATURN is the 6th planet from the sun and has been known since prehistoric times, which strikes me as odd. I wasn't aware that cavemen were big on celestial diaries. In case you missed school on the day this was discussed, the wind on Saturn blows at high speeds, reaching 1100 miles an hour near the equator. In the unlikely event that the wind is accompanied by rain, it would be wise to leave your umbrella at home.
MARS is the 4th planet from the sun. As you no doubt are aware, its reddish appearance is due to the prevalence of iron oxide. What makes no sense to me is that the planet is named after Mars, the Roman god of war. Why link war with Mars? What battles have they fought? The only war I'm aware of dates back to 1938 when Martians invaded New Jersey in a classic radio episode narrated and directed by Orson Welles. Given our tenacious combative history, it would have made far greater sense for EARTH to be called MARS.
EARTH, as you no doubt recall from the old TV show, is the third rock from the sun. So far it's the only planet in the universe where life is known to exist. An interesting fact is that over 70% of the earth's surface is covered with oceans. So why do we call it EARTH? Why not call it WATER or OCEANUS? Or we could get fancier, a little more upscale, and call it AQUEOUS.
PLUTO used to be, without question, the 9th planet. But in 2006, it was reclassified as a “dwarf planet” by astronauts who didn't consider it a planet at all. They were put off by its diminutive dimensions and loopy orbiting patterns. Personally, I wish they would stop picking on PLUTO. And why name a planet after Mickey Mouse's pet dog? But at least it's better than GOOFY.
NEPTUNE was named after the Roman god of the sea. It's believed to have a rocky core and be surrounded by a huge ocean of water, hence the NEPTUNE reference. It's also assumed that methane gas gives the planet its “blue planet” nickname. But I believe the blue comes from the severe cold. The temperature of one of its moons, Triton, is minus 391 degrees Fahrenheit. But my favorite thing about NEPTUNE is that scientists think the carbon in its atmosphere causes it to rain giant diamonds. But don't start packing as there's no surface to stand on to show off your priceless new bling.
JUPITER is the largest planet in the solar system. All the other planets could fit comfortably inside it. In fact, it would take 318 EARTHS to fill it up. There's a big red spot on JUPITER cleverly named “The Great Red Spot.” It's a 300-year-old storm that's as wide as 3 EARTHS. So instead of playing it safely and naming it after some Roman god, they should have called it GIGANTIS or HUMONGUS or BIG MOTHER.
MERCURY was named by the Romans after the fleet messenger of the gods. It seems the Romans spent a lot of time thinking up names for planets. If they spent less time on this and more time on fighting off the hordes of invading barbarians, maybe The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire could have been avoided.
Here's something for people struggling with their weight to consider. If you weighed 200 pounds on EARTH, you would only weigh 76 pounds on MERCURY. The only catch is –and there's always a catch—it's impossible to breathe there. So your impressive weight loss would be brief.
VENUS is obviously named after the Roman Goddess of Love. And it's the only planet named after a female. While this may or may not be a coincidence, VENUS is also the hottest place in the solar system. Because of its brightness, it's also known as “The Morning Star” and “The Evening Star.” Obviously there are definite romantic aspects to this planet. So on behalf of this sizzling hot planet, let me wish you all a very Happy Valentine's Day.
And don't get me started on URANUS.
@#$%&@
Saturday, January 16, 2010
DYING TO WRITE CRIME STORIES? BECOME A CRIMINAL!
Junior Gotti, having served nine years in prison on charges that he ordered hits on several people, is now released and ready to put his talents into writing crime stories.
And who would be better qualified than the son of notorious Gambino crime family boss, John “the teflon Don” Gotti.
Junior's credentials for such a career shift are impeccable.
Here is an ex-Mafia crime boss who has been through four racketeering trials and, because of mistrials, won't be asked to face a fifth. For some reason –perhaps death threats to some of the jurors – a jury of 12 could never agree that Junior was guilty of planning the murders of punks who got in his way.
Part of the trials included the plot to kidnap and attempt to kill Curtis Sliwa, founder of the Guardian Angels, for his denouncement of John Gotti as “Public Enemy #1.”
A son cannot hear such things said about his father without wanting to rip the throat out of the one spewing such truths.
During Junior's heyday, there was also talk of 8 murders, drug trafficking, bribery, extortion, and fraud. So writing books about what you know makes perfect sense.
Maybe when Junior gets a few cold-blooded best-sellers under his belt, he might try his hand at writing children's books. And who knows, they could become classics.
Little Billy Kills His First Cat
Sofia Finds A Body In The Cellar
The Stool Pigeon and The Rat
Tony Loses His Kneecaps
Guido Swims With The Fishes
So now that you know what it takes to have a successful career in writing, get out there and kill somebody.
@#$%&@
And who would be better qualified than the son of notorious Gambino crime family boss, John “the teflon Don” Gotti.
Junior's credentials for such a career shift are impeccable.
Here is an ex-Mafia crime boss who has been through four racketeering trials and, because of mistrials, won't be asked to face a fifth. For some reason –perhaps death threats to some of the jurors – a jury of 12 could never agree that Junior was guilty of planning the murders of punks who got in his way.
Part of the trials included the plot to kidnap and attempt to kill Curtis Sliwa, founder of the Guardian Angels, for his denouncement of John Gotti as “Public Enemy #1.”
A son cannot hear such things said about his father without wanting to rip the throat out of the one spewing such truths.
During Junior's heyday, there was also talk of 8 murders, drug trafficking, bribery, extortion, and fraud. So writing books about what you know makes perfect sense.
Maybe when Junior gets a few cold-blooded best-sellers under his belt, he might try his hand at writing children's books. And who knows, they could become classics.
Little Billy Kills His First Cat
Sofia Finds A Body In The Cellar
The Stool Pigeon and The Rat
Tony Loses His Kneecaps
Guido Swims With The Fishes
So now that you know what it takes to have a successful career in writing, get out there and kill somebody.
@#$%&@
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
GET ON FACEBOOK AND SHARE POINTLESS DRIVEL
Yolanda has a pimple on her nose … Ed's knees aren't what they used to be … Meg takes long walks when she's upset ...Clyde's favorite day is Wednesday … Mavis prefers her eggs fried … Larry is learning to juggle ...Naomi is now a brunette … Archibald is upset with his name ...Eunice waited an hour for a bus … Ron couldn't get a song out of his head … Shelly had 2 glazed donuts for breakfast ...Ernie waxed his floor… Cynthia is happiest when it rains ...Wally got a new dog … Caitlin banged her big toe again ...Orville likes purple shoes.
Instead of the usual meaningless babble, it would be inspiring if more Facebook people discussed things like underwear bombers and the momentous problems of airport security ...the absurdity of terrorist trials taking place in New York City, just blocks away from ground zero … the FBI and the CIA, who apparently lack the skill to connect dots, putting us all at risk by refusing to share critical information … and believe it or not, there's no tipping in Japan, yet the service is excellent.
If this is a bit weighty for Facebook, there are simple ways to lighten things up.
How about this, for example? Warren Beatty slept with 12,775 women. Did he keep count with a clicker? You could get a hernia just lifting his little black book. And why would Annette Bening think she could change such a stud muffin?
I mean, Warren is certainly no Wilt Chamberlain, who claimed to have bedded 20,000 ladies and still found time to play professional basketball. But these are impressive numbers.
And finally, a question that begs discussion. Does all this diminish the recent achievements of Tiger Woods?
@#$%&@
Instead of the usual meaningless babble, it would be inspiring if more Facebook people discussed things like underwear bombers and the momentous problems of airport security ...the absurdity of terrorist trials taking place in New York City, just blocks away from ground zero … the FBI and the CIA, who apparently lack the skill to connect dots, putting us all at risk by refusing to share critical information … and believe it or not, there's no tipping in Japan, yet the service is excellent.
If this is a bit weighty for Facebook, there are simple ways to lighten things up.
How about this, for example? Warren Beatty slept with 12,775 women. Did he keep count with a clicker? You could get a hernia just lifting his little black book. And why would Annette Bening think she could change such a stud muffin?
I mean, Warren is certainly no Wilt Chamberlain, who claimed to have bedded 20,000 ladies and still found time to play professional basketball. But these are impressive numbers.
And finally, a question that begs discussion. Does all this diminish the recent achievements of Tiger Woods?
@#$%&@
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