Fat Kid and the Afternoon Snacks

2009 is a lot.

2009-12-11T13:31:00.002-05:00

Way back in May of 2008, I did my first muscle-up. It was a proud moment.

In January of this year, I joined one of CrossFit Cleveland's coaches in attempting to perform 2009 total muscle-ups during the year.

This was number 2009.

We've come a long way, haven't we?

Fat Kid's Official Response to the Kanye West "Incident."

2009-09-14T14:10:00.003-04:00

He did what?

To whom?

Who's that?

Oh.

Wait, what awards?

Oh.

What a tool.

The Sad Passing of Pajiba Music.

2009-09-04T08:07:00.002-04:00

Sadly, folks, Pajiba Music is no more.

While it is a shame that we'll no longer be a feature of Pajiba, we've got pretty much the entire crew moving down the road a bit to The Music Is The Message, which is pretty cool. We'll continue running lots of reviews along with our current features and playlists, so follow us over there if you dug the P-Music section.

Things will kick off later on today, but until then you can enjoy the Goodbye Playlist I linked above, along with my last review over there:

The Truth Is That I Feel Better Because I've Forgiven Everyone / fun. - Aim & Ignite

Thanks for reading. See you at the new digs.

We Now Bring You A Special Update for the J & E Report.

2009-09-01T21:16:00.003-04:00

Full-size photos available on our Flickr page.

It was great meeting Jasper. Clearly, he loved us.

Garage Gym: Finally.

2009-09-01T21:11:00.007-04:00

It's not exactly pretty, but it works beautifully; that's all that matters. Many thanks to the Marietta College Crew for the sale.

My first thought after tonight's workout, which included 2250m: "I changed my mind. Don't want it anymore!" Ah, glorious pain.

You can see all the photos of the progression of the garage gym at our flickr page.

Pajiba Update

2009-07-21T14:41:00.003-04:00

While I'm at it, I may as well throw up links to my Pajiba Music reviews over the last couple of months, since I've been too lazy to even do that in a timely manner.

Ex-Norwegian: Standby (even more behind on this one than the others)
IAMX: Kingdom of Welcome Addiction
Butterfly Boucher: Scary Fragile
Dream Theater: Black Clouds & Silver Linings

Enjoy.

Ad Nauseam: McDonald's McCafé

2009-07-21T12:57:00.013-04:00

I return.

A disclosure before I begin: there is no organization whose advertising I hate more than Mc-fucking-Donald's. I loathe it to my very core.

The golden arches of Hell have recently been pimping their frothy coffee drinks like there's no tomorrow. Their latest campaign is to convince the public that consuming these drinks (or remarkable sources of sugar, if you go for any of their flavorings) will provide some added flair and/or sophistication to their meager existence, in the form of an accented 'e.' Cubicle becomes cubiclé. Cue-bi-clay. Just like in McCafé! Oh, how twee!

Die.

Yes, these commercials are obnoxious. But they haven't riled me enough to get me to write about them.

Until now.

Let's set the scene, shall we?

It's an overcast afternoon on the streets of some nondescript city. We sit at a traffic light, watching an idling minivan, piloted by a nondescript, vaguely douchey and bland fellow as he sucks a frothy coffee drink through a straw with the aplomb of a teenage girl siphoning rum-and-diets in the hopes that she'll end up drunk enough to deactivate her gag reflex for Johnny rockstar. He is accompanied by his two tiny female progeny. To be fair, he looks like an asshole and deserves every bit of derision he's about to receive.

Up next to the minivan rolls a nondescript motorcycle, bearing on it a "biker;" he is clad in black leather and sporting a helmet and facial hair--not quite the biker type, though. His moustache and stubble are more of the rapey-uncle type, and his spectacles and general hair-vibe can only be described as hipster-ish. He also sports a convenient pair of goggles on his helmet, presumably for when he's burning up the open road and not just so people will think he actually does this. Again, being fair: he looks like an asshole and has no business mocking anyone, anywhere, ever.

"Sweet minivan," sayeth the rider. Geeky dad looks around nervously, almost terrified by this grave insult.

Suddenly: rain. The cyclist is nonplussed. Emboldened by this bit of karmic retribution and by his frothy beverage, Geeky dad retorts: "That's minivan-ay to you." Rolling up his window, he leaves the rider soaking at the light, his vehicle evidently paralyzed by the falling water.

Does seeing this described in written word give you some clue as to my main problem with this whole thing?

There.

Is.

No.

Fucking.

E.

in.

MINIVAN!

You cannot accent MINIVAN that way! THERE'S NO FUCKING VOWEL TO ACCENT! Do you have a minivane in there to spice up?

No, I'm quite sure you don't. That would be so much more lame and yet, somehow, a great deal cooler than your stupid van.

I really hope you don't teach your stupid children language in this manner. If you truly wanted to make your stupid minivan seem cooler to your ridiculous road-companion, you should have used an umlaut like a fucking man and a non-retard. Then you could have showed him up with your stupid minivän instead of adding inappropriate vowels for the purpose of retrieving a tiny bit of your dignity. Of course, the fact that you're sacrificing your last shred of dignity by wholeheartedly buying into the ridiculous advertising campaign of a soul-sucking, fatty-making corporation is lost on you anyway, isn't it?

Minivän. How do you say it? I don't fucking know. Figure it out yourself after you finish your frothy drink, because you have to be a fruity asshole who can't even drink regular coffee like a normal asshole.

I hope your wife cuckolds you, cockwallet.

God, I hate McDonald's.

Garage Gym: Step One

2009-05-11T20:52:00.002-04:00

This is way better than a tree.

I feel like such a handyman.

Unintentionally Suggestive Scientific Statement of the Day

2009-05-11T14:27:00.003-04:00

"Effect of Rod Size: As you might suspect, driving a longer rod deeper into the earth materially decreases its resistance. In general, doubling the rod length reduces resistance by about 40 percent."

It may go on to describe how resistance must be sufficiently low before the rod can be driven at all.

Pajiba Music: Wednesday Music Reviews

2009-04-22T12:50:00.003-04:00

Pajiba Music: Doom and Theatre and mmm...Karen O / Wednesday Music Reviews

Including my write-up of Marianas Trench's Masterpiece Theatre. Spoiler alert: it's awesome. (The album, that is.)

Puzzling.

2009-04-07T12:19:00.002-04:00

I left this clue for last.

/Sigh.

Home Is Where the Sweat Is

2009-04-02T20:24:00.005-04:00

Outside of my apartment in Vienna, directly across the driveway from my front door, is a tree.

It is a wonderful tree.

It is my new favorite tree.

The 2009 Muscle-Up Challenge carries on unabated. Nothing can stop me! Mwa ha ha ha!

*ahem* Sorry.

I adore you, ring tree. Don't ever change.

Here's the deal.

2009-03-26T13:20:00.002-04:00

I've neglected my blog recently. I know. It's because we're moving.

I'm sure that most of you who'll be reading this are already aware. We're moving to Marietta, Ohio, which is about two and a half hours drive south of our current home. As such, most of my time over the last few weeks has been spent packing. And buying a house (huzzah!). And performing all of the multitude of tasks involved with buying a house. And arranging temporary housing, and so on, and so forth. Any time I've been able to devote to writing has gone toward my contributions at Pajiba. And so I've been absent around here. Sorry.

I start my new job on Monday, though. Being that I'll be down there by myself for a month, I anticipate filling more of my free time with writing, especially as the list of tasks to get done before the move dwindles. I'll likely be posting more personal anecdotes and updates regarding our new home in the future, so that our Cleveland friends can keep up. I'd like to continue insulting advertising, and will do so as inspiration strikes. I'll also continue to contribute to Pajiba Music and will post links as my work is posted there.

So, in a nutshell: stay tuned. For now, marvel at our lovely new home, into which we'll be moving next month.

Thanks for visiting.

Pajiba Music: Goodbye Playlist

2009-03-19T13:34:00.003-04:00

I know. I'm a shitty blogger lately. Busy busy busy. Updates soon.

For now, entertain yourselves with this.

Pajiba Music: A Goodbye Playlist

Pajiba: Wednesday Music Reviews

2009-03-04T13:13:00.003-05:00

'Nother of my reviews in today's post. This one's for a good album: Mando Diao's Give Me Fire. Thank you, O gods of rock.

Pajiba Music: They Got The Medicine to Fix Your Mood / Wednesday Music Reviews

I've been lax on the material, I know. Been busy. Updates coming soon, and hopefully some more commercial skewerings.

Pajiba: Wednesday Music Reviews

2009-02-25T12:21:00.002-05:00

I have a review in today's Pajiba Music post. With this album I am not pleased.

Pajiba Music: Lily Allen Has Very Important Things to Say, People / Wednesday Music Reviews

Why, Thornley? Why have you forsaken me?

Golden Years

2009-02-23T11:50:00.004-05:00

Today's Monday Moaning winner:

"ATT is not delivering white pages anymore. So senior citizens can't pick up the phone book because they put the business section in the yellow pages, and it's huge, but now senior citizens have to take their time calling to get a phone book. They should think about people who don't have computers."

No, they shouldn't. You are irrelevant.

You're too frail to lift and carry a copy of the yellow pages, and you don't own a computer. So what is it that you're doing with all of your precious time that you don't have a few moments to call and request a copy of the white pages? "The Price Is Right" is only on for one hour a day. Give up the ghost, my wrinkled friend.

Dumb Adults Make Dumb Kids

2009-02-18T14:09:00.004-05:00

I saw this today while shopping for birthday gifts for my nephew. Yes, I know it's blurry, and you probably can't read it. It says:

Hours of Backyarad Fun!

Not just on one, either. On all of them.

Way to go, proofreader(s)! A team of adults--with jobs, and probably diplomas and degrees--are incapable of using a spell-check application that could likely be operated by a five year-old.

Ad Nauseam: T-Mobile

2009-02-17T12:25:00.006-05:00

This new T-Mobile commercial has been running for a few weeks now, featuring what appears to be (a curmudgeonly male with a newspaper and a hippie-looking female) an elderly Dharma and Greg. He bitches about changing mobile carriers with a few illogical and clearly antagonistic remarks, and she addresses each one with a fact regarding their life together. Today, though, I'd like to focus on this particular part of the exchange:

Husband: Great, another contract. You know I hate commitment.

Wife: We've been married forty years.

H: Thirty-eight. What if I want some variety?

W: We've had eleven bulldogs, all named 'Steve.'

Let me see if I've got this straight. Eleven bulldogs in thirty-eight years?

/does some math in head...

What are you doing to these dogs?!

Even if we add on an extra two years--however unlikely it is that these two even lived together before they were married, much less owned a dog together--to make it an even forty, that's still an average of less than four years per dog. If every bulldog has been named Steve, that pretty much rules out the possibility of having more than one at a time. The average life span for a bulldog is 8-12 years. Thus, it would appear that this seemingly stable couple--who were able to successfully raise children into their adulthood, as evidenced in the ad's opening line--cannot keep a dog alive even for half of its natural average life cycle.

And so, I repeat: What are you doing to these dogs?! Are you simply substandard pet owners? Are you tossing these dogs into traffic for fun? Is there some kind of severely hazardous environment in or around your home, and you're just so involved in your own pseudo-clever conversations that you keep allowing innocent animals to perish? Or are you running a goddamn bulldog slaugherhouse?!

I demand an investigation! Demand it!

Golden Years

2009-02-16T08:46:00.003-05:00

My favorite entry from today's Monday Moaning column in The Plain Dealer, in which the paper ill-advisedly allows readers to write or call in anonymously and bitch about whatever they want:

"I'm a senior like millions of seniors. I don't have a computer, so I can't log on or dial the Web of all the programs on TV."

Right.

You see, children, this is why I (one) do crossword puzzles, and (two) keep abreast of all this pesky technology. So that when I'm old enough to send pointless, incomprehensible and irrelevant messages to major publications and have them printed out of some editor's sad, sad pity, I won't sound like I'm functionally retarded.

It's a miracle that this intellectual giant didn't dial the phone number on their microwave.

Cannonball Read: Brasyl by Ian McDonald

2009-02-13T14:40:00.005-05:00

Being that this book has been reviewed by both Jennifer and Prisco on Pajiba, I'll leave you to read those two pieces for brief plot summaries and some hilarious storytelling on Prisco's part. Though I must mention that I have experienced a version of the churrascuria that he describes; mine was in San Luis Potosi, Mexico, and it is a glorious thing. Go meat!

I will say that I enjoyed this book thoroughly. I'd agree with Jennifer inasmuch that the foreign lingo was a hindrance at first, but became easier to follow as the book went on, due both to having turned to the glossary so many times and simply to becoming more aware of how the terms were being used. I'd also agree with Mr. Prisco that the Quinn/Falcon storyline was the strongest and most vivid of the three. Luis Quinn and Dr. Robert Falcon are the most fully-realized characters in the novel, and though all three storylines held my attention, I often found myself hoping that McDonald would soon return to 1732. As an engineer, I have enough of a science background that I was able to digest pretty much all of the quantum physics theory and crazy ideas in the 2032 storyline with only McDonald's explanations. That doesn't mean that Brasyl is any less daunting than Jennifer states, though. It's still a very deliberate read that often had me flipping back to clarify things or confirm what I thought I'd read earlier. The payoff, though, is quite satisfying; enough so to make me want to read some more of McDonald's work.

On a related note: do any of you watch "Fringe?" Did you see the last episode, when they started talking about "the true nature of reality," the infant mind being infinitely capable and its "limitation," and the multiverse? I couldn't help thinking back on Brasyl. I mean, there was even talk of beings who've discovered how to travel between universes, and an impending war between realities. All remain great concepts within the sphere of "Fringe," but I'm hoping that there's not too much similarity as the overarching plot progresses. Both because I'd rather not think that J.J. Abrams lifted the major ideas, and because I rather enjoy the mind-fuck nature of the show. I don't want to know too much of the plot before it's revealed.

Free Poster Child!

2009-02-11T08:24:00.006-05:00

No, we're not imprisoned in any way.

After the reunion show a couple of weeks ago, we heard from quite a few people who were interested in our music. During our relatively short career, Poster Child recorded two CDs. The first was an acoustic studio album that sold about 100 copies. The second we recorded live with a fancy digital direct recording device, with a full band at a headlining show (which is pretty awesome). Unfortunately, as the group kind of faded and dissolved after that show, we were never able to package or distribute that CD. A shame, really, because it turned out great. In the wake of the fund-raiser show, I've decided to make that music available for digital download to whomever would like it (as opposed to burning a CD for everyone who would ask). So, if you are interested in hearing a full-band Poster Child performance from February 2006--11 tracks, only one cover song, fully mixed and mastered--please visit the following link for access to each song in mp3 format.

Poster Child, Live at the Phantasy

I have also uploaded a few cover songs that I recorded during my last year of college, using my dad's four-track recorder. They turned out better than they probably should have, considering the depth of my idiocy at that point in my life. If they're of any interest to you, feel free to grab them too.

Sean Kufel, Eight-Track Covers

*Note: To download the files directly, you must right-click on the file name (not the icon) and choose 'save link as'.

In the near future, I intend to get my hands on a copy of our old studio CD and upload that as well.

Thanks in advance to anyone who downloads our music (whether you enjoy it or not).

HIndsight Should Come With A Kick to the Face

2009-02-09T11:17:00.002-05:00

My laptop was not in the mood to cooperate with me yesterday. Specifically, my Java platform. I had a great tune all picked out for the "What I'm Listening To" thing that we've begun for Pajiba Music, and had only to upload it to Grooveshark and write a couple witty sentences. Alas, it was not to be; my Java platform simply would not start the uploader. I tried a few simple fixes: shutting down and restarting the Java launcher, updating the Java software, checking various settings on the Java console and in Firefox. Nothing worked. It seemed like it just wasn't in the cards for me. I was irritated. Thus, I bitterly changed my selection to a song from an album I didn't really care for, and stated as much. You can read about it tomorrow.

What didn't dawn on me until this morning, though (because I spent the rest of the day watching the Cavaliers' first home loss and then splattering sauce all over myself), was the other course of action that I failed to consider.

Uploading the song from the desktop computer that is five feet behind me.

Way to keep your head in the game, jackass. Good work letting a little setback alter your entire plan.

/sucks

Ad Nauseam: Budweiser

2009-02-05T13:00:00.002-05:00

Today, we'll take a look at the "Great American Lager."

Finding relatively new commercials for viewing online is proving more difficult than I'd anticipated. So, for now, you'll just have to continue to deal with my descriptions of these ads.

Anyhow, I'd like to discuss two current Budweiser ads in this post. The first involves the relatively new character of the "Budweiser delivery man" who appears to offer his wisdom in prestigious locations like convenience stores run by stereotypes. In this particular scenario, the delivery man is (for reasons unexplained) standing behind the fairly small checkout counter with Mr. Stereotype as two hapless-looking fellas approach with six-packs of non-Budweiser beer. Mr. Delivery then looks at his watch and begins to explain how (allegedly) at three o'clock, every day, someone at every Budweiser production facility in America tastes every batch of Bud. This, supposedly, is to ensure that "perfect balance" of flavor and refreshment that has become Bud's latest pitch.

As he explains, these two fucking mopes begin to look more and more downtrodden as they listen to this completely unsubstantiated tale being told to them by a fucking truck driver. It would seem that they've come to the realization that because they don't know the inner workings of their beer choice's breweries (of course, that they know as much or less about what actually happens at Bud's breweries is not addressed), because as Mr. Delivery smugly and sarcastically says that: "I'm sure they all do...something...like that," these assholes actually go back to the cooler and swap their beer out for Budweiser. In response to which Mr. Stereotype proclaims: "You're very good." This would indicate that he prefers selling Budweiser over other beers. Why this is so is never made clear.

My thought on this is that if you don't have the fucking half a brain to choose your own beer and not be swayed by a slimy cooler-stocker, then you probably shouldn't be permitted to consume alcohol to begin with. Where's your conviction? Why did you choose that beer to begin with? Why do you torture me so? You know what? I take back what I said. You drink that Bud. Drink it all. And then take a drive. Preferably on a desolate, curvy, cliffside road. We'll call it a "skills test." Have fun.

Moving on.

The other ad I'd like to cover involves a pretty young lady peering in to a refrigerator, attempting to choose a beer. There's a few nameless beers scattered amongst the Budweiser. A man peers over her shoulder, and launches into an oration on beer that is a thinly-veiled attempt to get into her pants. He begins:

"You know, the beer you choose says a LOT about you."

Of course it does. It says what beer you find most appealing to your taste buds. I know what kind of silly little social theory you're about to get in to, and I hate you. Honestly: when you're faced with a limited number of choices in a fridge that is not yours, the beer you choose really doesn't say as much about you as you wish it did.

In his play for an opportunity to ultimately be rejected by a woman who is way out of his league he mentions, of course, the supposed "perfect balance," and refers to Bud as "a real American beauty" (hm.), but the line that really bothers goes something like:

"You want friendly, not pretentious."

Sigh.

I want everyone to stop--JUST. STOP.--using the word "pretentious." If I prefer a heavier or fuller beer than your precious Budweiser, that does not make me pretentious. It means that I like a different fucking beer than you, douchebag, because we do not share taste buds. If someone likes a lighter beer or a different brand because they prefer that particular taste, it does not make them pretentious, nor does it make any other brand of beer as such. If you think that anyone who consumes a beer other than Budweiser is pretentious, you can get fucked. And if you think your cute little come-on speech gives you any--any--chance of sharing this woman's taste buds...well, it doesn't. The closest you'll ever get to her tongue is when you lick her empty beer bottle, you sorry sack of shit.

One final little English lesson, dick. You're choosing Budweiser because you want everyone to know that you drink "the great American lager," for its "perfect balance," and because it's a "classic." You know what we call that? A pretense. You know what that makes YOU? PRETENTIOUS.

QED, asshole.

Pajiba: Favorite Guitar Solos

2009-02-05T12:37:00.002-05:00

I've got a contribution in Jez's "Favorite Guitar Solos" post on Pajiba today. A great idea and a nice article, Jez!

Pajiba Music: Forget About All That Macho Shit; Learn How to Play Guitar / Our Favorite Guitar Solos

Ad Nauseam: Adam & Eve dot com

2009-02-03T09:12:00.004-05:00

Okay, so there's really nothing about the content or the makeup of this ad (another running on satellite radio) that bothers me. It's just a saucy-sounding woman narrating an offer for a sex-toys website. What does bother me, though, is this opening line:

"You can make this Valentine's Day one that you'll both never forget..."

Alright, I get the idea. But seriously, couldn't you have expressed this thought in a way that doesn't trample the English language like a horny elephant? Maybe "one that you'll both remember forever," or "one that neither of you will ever forget?"

Don't you people have proofreaders? More importantly, where do you find your copywriters? Gah.

Pajiba: Bands That Died Too Young

2009-01-29T13:06:00.005-05:00

I've got an article published on Pajiba Music today.

Pajiba Music: In Loving Memory / Bands That Died Too Young

Actually, my review of Naked Economics from yesterday made the page this morning, too! Thanks guys!

Ad Nauseam: Internet Speedway

2009-01-29T08:59:00.003-05:00

I'd like to start something new around here today.

I don't care for advertising. Not one bit. I'm a pretty level-headed person, but television and radio ads, when sufficiently irritating, can eat at my brain like nothing else. As such, I'd like to begin posting humorous and spiteful critiques of commercials that particularly annoy me. We'll begin today with Internet Speedway.

This company has been running ads on satellite radio for at least as long as I've been a subscriber (two-plus years now), and on FM radio as well; surprisingly, this same ad has run for about a month at a time, three or four separate times. It bothers me equally every time. Let me state beforehand, so I don't have to in the midst of bashing the ad itself, that this is a total scam. A Google search for "internet speedway" pulls up three scam-reporting websites before it pulls up the actual Internet Speedway website. Like just about everything you hear on TV or the radio, it sounds too good to be true because it is.

As I can't find audio of the ad and am not going to record it at this moment, I'll transcribe it for you, step by ridiculous step.

[Annoying rejoiner music]
Narrator: Hey, back to the show in just a sec, but before that: have you guys heard about this?

Okay. So we're to believe that this fella is a radio DJ in the middle of a "live read." Very convincing.

There's this computer program that literally has new-comers to the internet...

Let's be honest about this: if, in 2009, you can call yourself a "new-comer to the internet," you are retarded. The only people in this country right now that are "new-comers to the internet" are over the age of 75 and likely incapable of understanding the complex point-and-click procedure required to operate a computer that is not an abacus.

...earning tens of thousands of dollars.

He uses the word "earning." As though you're doing "work" or getting a "job."

See, this program lets you start selling high-profit products on the internet, using sites like eBay...

"Like" eBay, huh? I'll tell you this right now: your site will NOT be like eBay.

...selling stuff like digital cameras, iPod accessories, even plasma TVs.

No one is buying a digital camera from a tiny, no-name website run by Cletus in Montana, much less a fucking plasma television. Unless you're a niche website selling niche products, people are buying from proven, reliable sources. Don't be stupid.

Now here's the part I think's interesting: you can make all this money selling products you never have to see or store or pay for! And there's a company that's giving out a CD for free that tells you how to get started with it.

Wow! That does sound interesting! I look forward to hearing about your personal experience using this service!

The number for the free CD is...[papers shuffling]..uh...it's here...it's [phone number removed, because I'm not shilling for these bloodsuckers].

More convincing evidence that this man is not, in fact, working for these people. He's just a regular-guy radio DJ! Just like you! A moron!

Looks like your computer does the work while you basically collect the money! Seems like an easy way to run a business out of your house.

Is that what it looks like? Really? You know this from experience? You've used the product? No, of course you haven't. Obviously that's what it looks like, because you're just reading the copy like you're told. And you use all the buzz-words designed to lure in the dopes: "computer does work," "collect money," "business from house." It does seem like an easy way to make money from home, doesn't it? You can do it right in your bathrobe while fondling your genitals! I bet it doesn't cost you anything at all to get a decent site running, either. Oh, that's right. You have no idea. Because you're a tool.

Anyway, to get the free CD, you call Internet Speedway at [phone number twice].

Or you could Google "internet speedway," and have a lot more fun and get a lot more satisfaction reading about what a scam it is. Please. It always makes me feel better.

Honestly: how do people fall for this crap? As I said before: there is no such thing as a "new-comer to the internet." Don't people realize that if it were this easy to make tens of thousands of dollars of supplemental income online, that everyone would do it? Eventually we'd get to a point where either there'd be so many little merchant shops that none of them would make a dime, or all manufacturing, service and support in this country would cease because everyone would just be selling shit to everyone else. What is wrong with people?!

Sometimes I wonder what's wrong with me.

I might add that I transcribed this ad from memory. That's how many times I've heard this damn thing and how passionately I hate it.

Still, it may not be quite as awful as their other commercial that states--not implies, but STATES--that Internet Speedway will make you a millionaire.

Ugh.

Cannonball Read: Naked Economics by Charles Wheelan

2009-01-28T10:09:00.007-05:00

Update (1/30): This review was published on Pajiba yesterday morning. Thanks, Prisco!

I consider myself to be fairly knowledgeable and well-read. Enough so, anyway, to make informed political decisions and discuss them with a degree of expertise. Before the election, in a discussion with my sister-in-law (who works for the government and is smarter than I) regarding the economic policies being proposed, it became clear that I was in over my head. I don't like that feeling. Naked Economics is the book she recommended to remedy my ignorance.

In Naked Economics, Charles Wheelan has accomplished the impossible: he's written a book on economics ("the dismal science") that is an entertaining read. As the title would imply, he's stripped down the basic concepts of economics--shunning mathematics, formulas, graphs, and cryptic terms--and explained things using common-sense terms, real-world examples and simple logic. Concepts from basic economic policy theory through government finance, from financial markets to the Federal Reserve are explained in layman's terms. Wheelan explains, in a clear and non biased manner, things like how recessions occur, can be prevented and can be reversed, the perils of inflation and control of the money supply, why Mc-fucking-Donald's is successful enough to be the worldwide bane of my existence, and why Bill Gates is rich enough to abscond with me in the darkness and sell me into slavery at will.

Despite this "idiot's guide" approach to the topic, the book never comes off as condescending, and never treats its reader like an idiot. It's a thorough, entertaining and humorous discussion of Econ 101 that trades GDP equations for plain-English explanations and the kind of real-life anecdotes that made me think: "Oh, I get it!" Having read Naked Economics, I certainly feel more qualified to discuss economic policy with people at or above my intelligence level, at least in as much as I can state that "[proposed economic action/policy] is or is not a good idea because it could cause [result] and may incite [result] to happen" with a fair amount of confidence. Even a normal grasp of economics such as this will allow me to do one of my very favorite things: feel smarter than other people.

State of the Blog

2009-01-25T11:25:00.000-05:00

There was a time when my intention was to post here regularly.

I'd like to try and return to that time.

Having been laid off recently, I've got some extra time on my hands. Hopefully, if I can fill a little of that time by writing here, the habit will continue once I get a new job. I've become a regular contributor over at Pajiba in the music section, which is indescribably awesome. It's been my favorite site for years, and having the chance to be a writer for them makes me squee with joy. Doing that has also prompted me to write more in general, which is, of course, where this blog comes in.

This will remain a general-purpose blog, and will likely consist of my varying thoughts on news & events, my fitness training, media and my life's goings-on in general. I also hope to bang out a couple of book reviews in the next week or so for the Cannonball Read of which I am tangentially part. So if you care to read anything I have to say, stick around. I'll try not to be as neglectful as I've been for the last six months.

GAAH! (Or: The Saga of Why AT&T Can Die and Burn In Hell.)

2009-01-22T20:23:00.000-05:00

Wow. It's been a long time since I've been here.

Time to dust off the ol' blog, though. I have venom to spew. Oh, Lordy, do I.

This tale begins with my layoff on January the Eighth. In the wake of losing my job, my wife and I decide that we must (obviously) cut some costs. We had discovered, about a month previously, that AT&T's U-Verse service had become available at our apartment. We have a couple friends who have the service and love it, and it's quite a bit cheaper (for now) than Cox (which has always been excellent). We had elected not to sign up back in December, because we're in the process of buying a house and didn't see the point in changing providers for just a few months. Circumstances being as they are now, though, it seemed like a good idea.

Saturday, 10 January

I visit the U-Verse web site and confirm it is indeed available at our apartment. I sign us up, and choose an installation date of 19 January (the first day open), from 12:00-2:00pm. I receive several confirmation e-mails, for the order and for the installation.

12 January

My wife, whose number is the primary on the account, receives a call from AT&T; evidently, their computer wants to confirm our address. She proceeds to have a needlessly long conversation with a representative. See, our building has both a number and a letter designation in its address; including the letter apparently confuses AT&T's system. Upon instructing the agent to remove the letter, she is able to un-confuse herself.

(In retrospect, this should have been a red flag.)

She receives two more of these phone calls this week.

(Yeah.)

Here's where the real problem starts. I assumed--having received a confirmation e-mail, and three phone calls confirming our eligibility and our installation date--that AT&T would, as promised, install the U-Verse service in our home. That's what large, professional corporations do, I supposed. THEY FULFILL THEIR OBLIGATIONS. Having made this (silly) assumption, I scheduled a disconnection and equipment pick-up with Cox. For the day of our U-Verse installation. I did this because I am (1) an inherently trusting person and (2) an idiot.

Monday, 19 January: "U-Day"

11:15am: I disconnect our Cox equipment, and move some of our other devices around in preparation for a new cable box.

12:10pm: A Cox technician arrives to pick up their stuff. I had scheduled the pickup from 1-3pm; they are early. "No problem," I think. They're just an efficient service provider. I continue to wait for AT&T.

2:05pm: No AT&T. I call customer service. The representative transfers me to dispatch to find out where our installer is. (2:10-2:25pm): ..........on hold.......... (2:26pm): Someone finally answers. She's going to find out what's going on. (2:28-2:48pm): .........on hold........ (2:49pm): She returns.

"Okay, sir. I don't have you scheduled for an installation today. Your activation is down for March 31st."

(Breathing heavier.)

I explain to her that that's completely incorrect. I need an installation as soon as possible. I try to explain that I am in the middle of a job search and absolutely need access to my e-mail. Nonetheless, she tells me that the earliest that someone can come out is WEDNESDAY MORNING.

(I am now completely fucking furious.)

I take my laptop to Starbucks to use their Wi-Fi to get onto my e-mail, to get the details I need for an important job interview on Tuesday morning. To my surprise, their Wi-Fi is no longer free. It's $3.99 for a two-hour block, provided by (who else?) AT&T. (Fumes.) My wife kindly prints what I need from her work.

3:30-4:30pm: On the phone with AT&T again. I try to speak to a manager, to find out who in the blue fuck changed my installation date and to get somebody the fuck out here a-sap. The manager is unavailable. They do not call back.

Finally, another (semi-competent) representative at dispatch tells me that they can fit me in between noon and two on Tuesday. I am placated. The wife and I enjoy a night of reading with no electronic sounds.

Tuesday, 20 January: "Fuck-U-Day"

12:00pm: I'm home from a great interview and ready for the installer. As soon as I have internet again, I need to write an e-mail thanking the individuals for meeting with me. I want this job.

12:10pm: The installer calls. He's confirming our address (again) and says that he's got to check something; will call back. I don't freak out.

1:05pm: He calls back.

"There's a problem with your facilities, and I've got to send this back to engineering. Sooooo I don't know when we're going to be able to install this."

(My urge to kill is peaking.)

1:10pm: Back on the phone with customer service. I am trying to find out the time frame for this "problem." It could be two weeks, a gentleman tells me. As calmly as I possibly can, I tell this gentleman that I require more information than that. In good faith, I already cancelled my previous service. He gives me a case number and transfers me to someone whom he says can tell me more.

1:20pm: Aaaaaaaaand to whom does he transfer me? The fucking dispatch center. This woman doesn't know her ass from her elbow.

1:35pm: Back on the phone with customer service. My statement goes something like this:

"Your company is infuriatingly incompetent. Cancel the entire order. I'm through with you people. And if I was in a better position, I'd change cell phone carriers as well."
"Sorry to hear that, sir."

Yeah, I'm sure you are, cocksucker.

1:45pm: I now call Cox and beg for them to reconnect our service. I go to the fucking library to write my e-mail.

Wednesday, 21 January

Still no cable or internet service.

9:30am: I drive to the Cox office and pick up our digital cable box. Would have done this yesterday, but their rep told me that I couldn't do that until after the services were reconnected. She was incorrect, at this point, it's a minor gripe, because she is NOT AT&T and I'm fairly certain that Cox is PLANNING TO DO WHAT THEY PROMISED ME THAT THEY WOULD DO. Because that's what reliable service providers do.

Once I've got the equipment, it's simply a matter of time, waiting until the tech arrives at our place to throw the switch. I kill time by watching Doomsday and "Arrested Development." I feel like a fucking sloth.

4:00pm: I'm connected to the world again. I have half a mind to run outside and hug the Cox tech.

Thus ends the Saga of Why AT&T Can go Fuck Themselves in their Pee-Holes.

Lessons learned:

a) AT&T can go fuck themselves in their pee-holes.
b) Don't do stupid things like trust large companies to provide the services they've promised in the time frame that they've given to you and confirmed four times.
c) When a reliable service provider tells you that another service is less reliable and of lesser quality, you might consider believing them. If U-Verse's prices go up on February 1st to the level of comparable digital services, as Cox tells us they will, I will forever believe anything Cox tells me.
d) FUCK AT&T.

Seriously, here. I recognize that I shouldn't have had our Cox services disconnected until the new services were up and running; that would have saved me a lot of anger (I haven't been that angry in a LONG time; when my wife can feel my anger seeping through the phone, I'm fucking fuming). However, I also should be able to trust that a large, international corporation is going to DO THEIR GODDAMN JOB WHEN THEY'VE PROMISED TO DO IT, and that they will do their homework and check our building for any issues before the predetermined date of installation. My responsibility can only go so far, because I'm not one of their fucking engineers. Maybe your website shouldn't tell people that the service is available at their address when THE SERVICE IS CLEARLY NOT AVAILABLE AT THEIR ADDRESS. Perhaps one of your THREE CONFIRMATION PHONE CALLS could have been to the dispatch center, to confirm our eligibility with some who can actually confirm our eligibility.

The moral of the story: AT&T sucks, and don't ever trust anyone to do anything ever. Except Cox.

Sean's (Second) Muscle-Up

2008-05-09T13:41:00.001-04:00

I've been working on this since January.

Seriously?

2008-05-06T08:10:00.000-04:00

During my morning breakfast time, I like to put a little news on the TV, sort of in the background of my routine. Usually, it's CNN, because I like to see how low American Morning has sunk since Chez's firing (and based on Ali Velshi's grating demeanor lately, it's pretty goddamn low). Very, very occasionally, when I'm in the mood for an unabashed sideshow, I throw on local news. This morning, however, due to an issue with CNN's sound feed, I turned to MSNBC's Morning Joe. In the middle of a discussion about Hillary/Obama and today's primaries, a face appeared on my screen for which I was unprepared. Now, I know this show is stupid. Like, really, Pauly Shore-level stupid. And yet, seeing Tiki Barber's mug on this news program still blew my mind.

Yes, Tiki. Fucking. Barber.

Admittedly, I did not catch the reason for Tiki's inclusion in the discussion. But this is how I imagine it came about:

[Tiki Barber is wandering around MSNBC's studio at 6:45 a.m., having nothing better to do between the NFL Draft and training camp.]

Some Dope from MSNBC: Hey, Tiki Barber! Would you like to participate in an on-air discussion about the Democratic Party's race for the presidential nomination? I know that you're totally lacking the qualifications, but here's the thing: You're black. Aaaand, you're kind of a woman, being that you retired from football in your prime and deluded yourself into thinking that your team would be totally lost without you, even though they won the Super Bowl without your girly ass. So you're illogically perfect for this.

Tiki: Sure, let's do it. And thanks!

Fucking retarded.

Bizarro

2008-04-19T10:32:00.000-04:00

I've liked the 'Bizarro' comic for quite some time now. But I think that this one, from April 16, 2008, might be my favorite ever.

Saturday, 4/19/08

2008-04-19T10:29:00.000-04:00

Wt: 211.2 lb.
BF: 19.5%
MM: 39.7%

Saturday, 3/29/08

2008-03-29T12:10:00.000-04:00

Wt: 212.2 lbs.
BF: 19.8%
MM: 39.6%

Saturday, 3/22/2008

2008-03-22T13:20:00.000-04:00

Wt: 212.0 lbs.
BF: 19.7%
MM: 39.6%

Saturday, 3/15/08

2008-03-15T10:21:00.000-04:00

Wt: 213.6 lbs.
BF: 20.0%
MM: 39.5%

Saturday, 3/8/08

2008-03-08T13:54:00.000-05:00

Wt: 215.0 lbs.
BF: 20.3%
MM: 39.4%

Saturday, 3/1/08

2008-03-01T13:16:00.000-05:00

Wt: 216.2 lbs.
BF: 20.4%
MM: 39.4%

Saturday, 2/16/08

2008-02-16T14:18:00.000-05:00

Wt: 218.8 lbs.
BF: 20.9%
MM: 39.2%

Sweet Jesus, I'm an idiot.

2008-02-14T14:01:00.001-05:00

Sometimes, abbreviations are a bad idea. Especially when coupled with a momentary lapse of common sense.

Earlier today, I received a text message from a friend. A male friend. It read:

"Enjoy your VD."

I stared blankly at this, wondering for a moment what it could possibly be implying, or if perhaps it had been intended for a different recipient. Seeking clarification, I responded with: "Huh-what now?"

Only after I'd hit send did I come to my senses and quickly type out another message:

"Oh...VD...Valentine's Day. God I'm stupid. Thanks, you too."

It's a wonderful thing to flabbergast oneself with idiocy. Stupid.

Saturday, 2/09/08

2008-02-09T12:39:00.000-05:00

Wt: 220.0 lbs.
BF: 21.2%
MM: 39.1%

Saturday, 2/2/08

2008-02-02T14:05:00.000-05:00

Wt: 221.0 lbs.
BF: 21.3%
MM: 39.4%

More Billy Talent

2008-01-29T22:06:00.001-05:00

Because I really dig this song tonight. I hope you can read the blurry lyrics, because they're excellent.

Worker Bees.

Weekend Catch-Up

2008-01-27T21:26:00.000-05:00

Well. Another week come and gone, and a few things to catch up on. First, yesterday's weigh-in that I did not have time to post.

Wt: 222.8 lbs.
BF: 21.7%
MM: 39.0%

Back to where I was before vacation. This is very pleasing.

Brian Campbell had a goal and two assists in helping the East to an 8-7 win in tonight's NHL All-Star game. He represented his mediocre Sabres squad extremely well. Hey fellas: maybe get off your asses and re- sign him before he becomes a free agent? I mean, it's not that your no-in-season-negotiation policy didn't work well last year when you lost both captains...

Oh, wait.

Assholes. Sign him. Don't blow this one.

I guess I don't have that much after all. I was going to post another band, but I can't seem to find a video. Maybe next time.

Arrested Development fans?

2008-01-24T21:45:00.000-05:00

I'm in London, Ontario right now. Earlier this evening, I was driving down Wellington Avenue, looking for a particular restaurant in which to have dinner. Once I saw my destination, I had to make a left and navigate a couple of parking lots to reach it; before I did, however, I saw this little gem of a place.

I know, it's difficult to read.

Loblaws.

I don't know what goes on in that building. Frankly, I don't care. It might be a store of some kind. It might be a residential complex with an unnecessarily bright sign. I will never know. I'm not looking it up. I will not have this ruined. As far as I'm concerned, Scott Baio is in there making Portia de Rossi take out his trash in a maid's uniform and writing in his law blog.

Band of the Moment: Billy Talent

2008-01-22T22:51:00.001-05:00

Here's the thing: I don't generally care for screaming in my music. I have no logical reason why I completely dig it in the music of Billy Talent. To be fair, it's not really screaming; it's more like screeching. Somehow, it works. Their sound is totally unique; it's driven by killer licks and hooks and a voice that just won't let go. I came across these guys on XM's The Verge channel, who play a shitload of great Canadian rock. I'm not sure Billy Talent has much of a shot in the US, despite having two very successful albums out and holding quite a few Juno awards (like the Canadian Grammys, except not complete horseshit), because Americans are stupid and mindless. But hey, there's always hope. Check them out for yourself and help turn back the tide of dumb.

From Billy Talent II, the song is Fallen Leaves. Get a load of that opening riff and the harmonies. Rock.

Saturday Weigh-In, etc.

2008-01-19T13:08:00.000-05:00

1/19/2008

Wt: 225.8 lbs.
BF: 22.2%
MM: 38.8%

Well. I'm back. I suppose 225.8 isn't so bad, considering I was 228 last week when we got back from vacation. Back on the right track, I suppose. I wish I could think of a way to get the word 'back' into this paragraph another two or three times.

Other happenings: I'm now the moderator for CrossFit Cleveland's MySpace and Facebook pages. They're works in progress, but coming along nicely. Please do visit them and become our friends and/or fans and help us build our network. And make me look good. Please. Of course, those are both designed to drive more traffic to the main site, so please visit that as well.

I wish I had more to say. My buddy Paul is in town this weekend, we'll be seeing Cloverfield this afternoon. Should be fun. See you there.

I'm boring. Sorry.

2007-12-29T11:13:00.000-05:00

Wt: 224.0 lbs.
BF: 21.9%
MM: 38.9%

I think that, by almost any sane standards, that's a successful Christmas week.

CrossFit rules.

Saturday, 12/22/2007

2007-12-22T13:10:00.000-05:00

Wt: 223.0 lbs.
BF: 21.7%
MM: 39.0%

The Band That Never Was.

2007-12-19T21:22:00.000-05:00

Once upon a time, I was in a band.

Evidence of this still exists. We were called Poster Child, and we had some good times. We wrote some decent songs, had a fan base comprised mostly of our friends, and made a couple of decent recordings. It was fun while it lasted.

The name of our band was the subject of much debate for me and my best friend Andrew. From the moment that he found out I was in any kind of performing group, he dubbed us "Fat Kid and the Afternoon Snacks." Obviously, I disapproved of this name. Despite the fact that both of us band members were, in fact, mildly fat, we felt that fact needn't become even more obvious. We became Poster Child (and later, Oster Chill). But Andrew, he would not rest. To this day, even as both artists formerly known as Poster Child have lost significant amounts of girth, Andrew still refers to our erstwhile group as Fat Kid and the Afternoon Snacks.

As such, I've dedicated the title of this blog to the band name that never was. Fat Kid and the Afternoon Snacks. This one's for you, buddy.

I'll make no promises regarding content posted or frequency thereof. More than likely, it'll just be my silly ramblings and cynical, angry ranting about television advertising and bad music. But on the off chance that anyone becomes a regular visitor, this is your "origins" post. One day, when someone asks: "What does 'Fat Kid and the Afternoon Snacks' mean?" (because it's their totally fave blog), you'll proudly be able to tell them.

Lucky you.