On the first day of school of my Sophomore year of high school, my Social Studies teacher had written on the chalk board: "GOVERNMENT =". Whatever Government equaled was concealed beneath a pull down movie screen. He then asked us to define government, one by one.
Poor Cassandra, who found herself not only at the top of the class with something like a 9.6 GPA, but at the top of the seating chart with her last name also beginning with "C", was up first. I don't recall what she said but I do remember thinking that this wold be a quick discussion because Cassandra will give him the right answer. That was Cassandra's job as the smartest person in our school; give the teacher the right answers before they could call on one of us who don't know the answer.
His response to her, followed by an audible gasp from our classmates was: "Wrong." Cassandra was wrong? Who the hell does this guy think he is? Does he even know who Cassandra is? Cassandra eats trilangular quadrangles for breakfast and chases it down with some pythagaring theerums. Cassandra is never wrong.
Today, it turns out, she was, along with every other student in our class. By the end of the period we had all given 30 different definitions of the word Government and all of us heard him say the word "Wrong." I don't believe that man said anything but the word "wrong" the whole class. Until he did something that would have resulted in his resignation nowadays.
He turned, just as the warning bell was sounding, signaling 2 minutes left in the period, and tugged on the movie screen just enough to make it rapidly retreat back into its spring loaded roll at the top of the chalkboard. What he had written underneath the screen, finishing the "Government =" statement were the words: "A FORM OF CONTROL." We must have sat there in complete silence for a whole minute before he said "and if you learn anything from me this year, learn this." He then wrote two words to the left of "A FORM OF CONTROL" ultimately completing the most important lesson I ever learned in High School:
GOVERNMENT, RELIGION, & THE MEDIA = A FORM OF CONTROL.
He has since passed and I hear his funeral was overflowing with former students of his paying their respects to the man that opened their eyes one September morning. In the lessons following his first most memorable class was a very well structured and intellectual representation of the founding of our Government and the history of our Country. Throughout all of the teaching this man never uttered another conspiratorial word but I remember always thinking of his first lesson while learning about things such as slavery, suffrage, and the Great Depression.
This First Lesson had occurred only a handful of years after I first read of the Illuminati. The Illuminati, as the theorists believe, is a secret organization whose members include the richest and most powerful people in the world. I had ran across the concept in my public library. The words that I was reading told me of a secret group called the "Bavarian Illuminati" that was founded by Adam Weishaupt just before the founding of our Nation. This group is believed to have formed the United States of America as it's own new nation, who will ultimately work towards becoming the sole government in control of everyone on the planet. The greatest aspect of this theory is like most conspiracies, it is possible. Probability is the important variable.
The statistics are all over the place but it is a fact that a very small percentage of the world's population controls a very large percentage of the world's wealth. That mere fact, whether or not they are overtly advancing an agenda towards one world government, proves that there is a small group that controls everything. Once you control all of the money what is left to control but the population?
To make matters more grim for the common man, there is a distinct possibility that the share of the wealth that the elite allegedly control is more than the actual wealth of the world. Wealth and money are two completely different concepts. The wealth that backs all currency is not limitless. I remember seeing a cartoon online when I was in college that attempted to explain the Federal Reserve Bank in understandable terms. The following explanation is very much inspired by what most would call socialist propaganda for it was created and published in Canada.
Imagine that you are stranded on a deserted island with 4 other survivors. The first night there you discover a treasure chest with 5 gold bars inside. You tell your fellow castaways that you will give them each a share of the wealth in the form of palm leaves which will be used in exchange for goods and services on the island. The catch is that you must pay back your 1000 palm leaves at a rate of interest of 25%. If there is only 4000 Palm leaves in circulation around the island, how will anyone have the ability to repay 5000 back to you? The mathematics simply do not allow for a scenario where every inhabitant of the island could pay you back with interest because that amount exceeds the number of actual palm leaves to begin with.
People that are indebted to you will work to pay off that debt. They may not work for you as an indentured servant but they work for others in exchange for the money to pay their debts. The easiest way to turn someone into a wage slave is to pile on large amounts of debt on their shoulders while in college. You turn out a citizen who is desperate to climb the corporate ladder in an attempt to make more money with which to pay off their schooling. Then you add the credit card that was offered to them with 0% interest the day they were moving into school and the amount of debt you can pile on an individual increases. If they have $25000 in credit card debt and $100000 in college loans they will be less likely to have time to think for themselves and notice that the candle is being burnt from both ends.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
INTIMIDATOR 305 KINGS DOMINION 2010
Here is the first information about the Intimidator
http://intimidator305.com/
http://intimidator305.com/
Saturday, July 25, 2009
PARabNORMAL: Paranoia and Other Things Necessary for Survival
Anyone who reads this is going to initially be drawn to one opinion of me and that is that I am paranoid. Therefor, before I even begin on paranoid ramblings of the like we will explore further, I must explain why I am not paranoid and hopefully you'll at least understand.
I have been drawn to the paranormal for as long as I can remember. My mother had a book about the Great Wonders of the World and the paranormal "Time-Life-Book-series" about mysteries and unexplained phenomena. These were a favorite of mine as a child. I remember reading them on the floor when it was raining; television and video games within my reach yet I was consumed by the things I was discovering.
The list was endless as resembles the first 3 season of the X-files. Bigfoot, The Sphinx, telekinesis, poltergeists, The Loch Ness Monster, Atlantis, and so many other amazing things were at my disposal within the bookshelf in my family's game room. My multiplying curiosities mined the local library for paranormal information - some of it leading to conspiracies.
The greatest of the unexplained is the conspiracy that doesn't exist. I was exposed to concepts such as Freemasonry, the Illuminati, Skull and Bones- all the
basics. I remember the moment where I first read about the Illuminatii . I was sitting in one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs which was situated right on the border from the "KidZone" and the big people's library. I don't remember the details but I remember the moment, like a snapshot at this point. The words are hard to make out and slightly blurry but nonetheless this was the moment that turned me into the man I am today.
This quest for information and the truth turned into a biut of an obsession in my 20's. I don't know if it was the pot, the shrooms, or just plain growing up but for a while there I suspected myself of being paranoid. It took me sometime time to realize that although I love to read and talk about conspiracies and think them through, what I truly love is trying to disprove them. Most conspiracies can never be proven so if someone can disprove it then it must be false but some are more complicated than that. Some are like one of those crazy logic problems you always skipped over in that book of puzzles you convinced Mom to get you from the store. Some require much thought and cunning to disprove. It's like solving a brain teaser.
Now the bookshelf in my game room has been replaced by this laptop on my table and the handful of books has become an entire world of information at my fingertips at 4:21 in the morning when I'm trying to relax after a late night at work. What I discovered in my 20's is that I am not paranoid because I know I am paranoid. People who are truly paranoid don't think they are paranoid because they believe the paranoid thoughts. I know my enemy, even if it doesn't exist, and I will not be surprised when just one of the thousands of Diabolical conspiracies turns out to be real. In the meantime I hope to share some of my favorites with you.
I have been drawn to the paranormal for as long as I can remember. My mother had a book about the Great Wonders of the World and the paranormal "Time-Life-Book-series" about mysteries and unexplained phenomena. These were a favorite of mine as a child. I remember reading them on the floor when it was raining; television and video games within my reach yet I was consumed by the things I was discovering.
The list was endless as resembles the first 3 season of the X-files. Bigfoot, The Sphinx, telekinesis, poltergeists, The Loch Ness Monster, Atlantis, and so many other amazing things were at my disposal within the bookshelf in my family's game room. My multiplying curiosities mined the local library for paranormal information - some of it leading to conspiracies.
The greatest of the unexplained is the conspiracy that doesn't exist. I was exposed to concepts such as Freemasonry, the Illuminati, Skull and Bones- all the
basics. I remember the moment where I first read about the Illuminatii . I was sitting in one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs which was situated right on the border from the "KidZone" and the big people's library. I don't remember the details but I remember the moment, like a snapshot at this point. The words are hard to make out and slightly blurry but nonetheless this was the moment that turned me into the man I am today.
This quest for information and the truth turned into a biut of an obsession in my 20's. I don't know if it was the pot, the shrooms, or just plain growing up but for a while there I suspected myself of being paranoid. It took me sometime time to realize that although I love to read and talk about conspiracies and think them through, what I truly love is trying to disprove them. Most conspiracies can never be proven so if someone can disprove it then it must be false but some are more complicated than that. Some are like one of those crazy logic problems you always skipped over in that book of puzzles you convinced Mom to get you from the store. Some require much thought and cunning to disprove. It's like solving a brain teaser.
Now the bookshelf in my game room has been replaced by this laptop on my table and the handful of books has become an entire world of information at my fingertips at 4:21 in the morning when I'm trying to relax after a late night at work. What I discovered in my 20's is that I am not paranoid because I know I am paranoid. People who are truly paranoid don't think they are paranoid because they believe the paranoid thoughts. I know my enemy, even if it doesn't exist, and I will not be surprised when just one of the thousands of Diabolical conspiracies turns out to be real. In the meantime I hope to share some of my favorites with you.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Right & Left
Our landlord brought us a new refrigerator today. It is a huge improvement over our last which had most recently started screaming at us while operating. The inside dimensions are much more spacious and customizable, and I can fit so many more year old dressings and condiments in my door than before. The problem it does have is that the door handles are on the left and it opens to the right, the opposite of our old fridge. Every time I try to open the door I reach for the wrong side because it just seems more natural for me to do so. Then when the door is swinging to the left I have to stand a foot away to allow the door to pass in front of me instead of beyond me on my left. While packing all of our food into the new fridge it dawned on me that this refrigerator issue illustrates a common political phenomenon. Lifetime Political Party Affiliates.
Allow me to explain briefly. The refrigerator itself represents our nation and it's political system. Regardless of which direction the door opens, liberal/left or conservative/right the refrigerator still functions, the food stays cool, the people are pacified but nothing is different inside the political system. I happen to have been raised on the left side of the political spectrum and like most Americans will find myself there for the rest of my life. When faced with a change in ideals such as the door opening the other direction I found my brain unable to function properly. If I thought about it long enough (dealt with it for a day) I would probably agree that opening the door in a slightly different manner was really not that big of a deal and maybe even there will be a benefit to it such as it won't bang on the side of our kitchen counter all the time. I just can't do it. Just like most Americans cannot take a step back, look at the other side and think about its views for just enough time to actually form an educated opinion.
Allow me to explain briefly. The refrigerator itself represents our nation and it's political system. Regardless of which direction the door opens, liberal/left or conservative/right the refrigerator still functions, the food stays cool, the people are pacified but nothing is different inside the political system. I happen to have been raised on the left side of the political spectrum and like most Americans will find myself there for the rest of my life. When faced with a change in ideals such as the door opening the other direction I found my brain unable to function properly. If I thought about it long enough (dealt with it for a day) I would probably agree that opening the door in a slightly different manner was really not that big of a deal and maybe even there will be a benefit to it such as it won't bang on the side of our kitchen counter all the time. I just can't do it. Just like most Americans cannot take a step back, look at the other side and think about its views for just enough time to actually form an educated opinion.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
NIGHTMARES AND NICOTINE: ON THE JEWEL
ON THE JEWEL
If you have never went to sleep in your own bed and awoke in a strange cold metal cell before, you will never understand the depth of fear that one feels when that happens. I am not even going to try to describe it. You think of how you could have ended up there and so many options enter your mind. When you are alone, naked, and hungry in a 4x4 cell your mind really starts to wander. You start to back track along the possible paths that might have led you to such a place.
I guess you could say it all started when I first signed up for Facebook. It was there waiting for me. It knew that eventually one of the long lost or newer friends in my friend list would post their score. I was like some people at first: remembering how Bejeweled was fun and all but was merely a Tetris clone. I had what I call now, my Tetris phase. That addiction was hard enough to turn my back on and Bejeweled was certainly not going to compare to the high that I experienced when playing Tetris.
Then another friend posted their score and I noticed that this wasn’t Bejeweled, it was Bejeweled Blitz. What does the Blitz mean? It sounds like a fast paced improved version of Bejeweled. The fact that it was different just made me want to try. There are a lot of things you could do with the game to improve upon it. It was in the middle of that train of thought that I noticed the word BETA in the title.
“Sweet, it’s so new and fresh that they’re still in the BETA testing phase, I really should check it out” I thought as I clicked, on the badge declaring the high score of 140833 that my friend had just achieved.
They say that the first time you try Heroine that you become deathly ill as your body rejects. I hated Bejeweled Blitz Beta the first time too. Seeing your friend’s 6 digit high score when you have scored a measly 8544 is much like becoming violently ill to a video game nerd like me. If this chick from my homeroom in 8th grade could get over 140,000 I can certainly do better than that. Ten games later I’m screaming “What the hell is wrong with me?” while the alarms signifying my time running out echoes in my head.
“One minute? Who the hell makes a game that only lasts a minute? I have never heard of anything so stupid before.” I said as the voice of Bejeweled announced “Goooooo” on my 14th game.
It was the 20th game, just as I was about to put the shit down and move on to more productive outlets for my energy when I broke 25,000 and got my first badge.
“A badge - for me?” I must have done well. Maybe I can do better.
Maybe I can do better. That’s where it all begins, ends, and rots away to nothing. Maybe I can do better.
“Maybe you caaaaaan” the voice of Bejeweled sings in your mind.
“I can.”
“Yeeeessssss.”
“I can!”
“Gooooooooo, play with us, beat your friends, show them who is the smartest, fastest, and best at Bejewellllllllled.”
Then I couldn’t stop. I was finding myself on the Jewel first thing in the morning. Realizing, 4 hours later that not only had I not even made coffee but I didn’t have anything to eat. It’s not that big of a deal I would assure myself. I know people that have ruined relationships because they were obsessed with World of Warcraft. This is nothing like that. It’s just a stupid puzzle game.
Soon, more of my friends were on the Jewel, racking up higher and higher scores; making the voice urge me to beat them more aggressively. My family joined one by one: my sister, my brother-in-law, my Mom, and even my Dad. I think I remember selling my Dad on getting a Facebook account by saying he could compete with me on Bejeweled. I heard that my nephew had a contact high watching my sister play; urging her on like his soccer team was just about to stage a comeback in the final minutes of the game.
Then one week, my friends and I scored higher than average all in the same week and I received a notification in my email that we had the highest team score out of all players that week. We were sent to a website to claim our prize. It was that night that I disappeared from my own bed.
I awoke with not much as far as memories go. It came back to me slowly, in bits and pieces. Then the paranoia crept in. The possible answers to all of my questions rushed through my mind.
“Was I drugged? Where am I and who would do this to me? I thought of that crazy guy that I dated once and abruptly stopped talking to because I couldn’t stand the way he chewed with his mouth open. Was he behind this?
That’s just about the time the door opened and a cloaked figure entered the cell. He told me to stand and to follow him and his companion. We walked through several winding, and sterile corridors and approached a large metal door at the end of a hallway. The wet, sticky sound their footsetpes made gave me a chill and I found that I could hear the familiar clanging of jewels being cleared and hyper jewels exploding.
That is all that I could remember when I awoke back in my bed. I heard what sounded like thousands of games of Bejeweled playing beyond the door and then everything was black again. There I was, back in bed, clammy, out of sorts wondering what had happened to me for just a moment before remembering to forget and play bejeweled. That is all that I needed to do. I needed to survive, as I did before in my old life and now every chance I had I needed to play Bejeweled. Thinking of it excited me like nothing has before.
I do not know why. When I think of the why I simply remember to forget. I have glimpses of words from cloudy voices saying something about surviving. They had to survive. I was needed. My part was important to someone’s survival, something’s survival; but it’s so hard to remember when all you remember is to forget.
“Time’s Up.”
If you have never went to sleep in your own bed and awoke in a strange cold metal cell before, you will never understand the depth of fear that one feels when that happens. I am not even going to try to describe it. You think of how you could have ended up there and so many options enter your mind. When you are alone, naked, and hungry in a 4x4 cell your mind really starts to wander. You start to back track along the possible paths that might have led you to such a place.
I guess you could say it all started when I first signed up for Facebook. It was there waiting for me. It knew that eventually one of the long lost or newer friends in my friend list would post their score. I was like some people at first: remembering how Bejeweled was fun and all but was merely a Tetris clone. I had what I call now, my Tetris phase. That addiction was hard enough to turn my back on and Bejeweled was certainly not going to compare to the high that I experienced when playing Tetris.
Then another friend posted their score and I noticed that this wasn’t Bejeweled, it was Bejeweled Blitz. What does the Blitz mean? It sounds like a fast paced improved version of Bejeweled. The fact that it was different just made me want to try. There are a lot of things you could do with the game to improve upon it. It was in the middle of that train of thought that I noticed the word BETA in the title.
“Sweet, it’s so new and fresh that they’re still in the BETA testing phase, I really should check it out” I thought as I clicked, on the badge declaring the high score of 140833 that my friend had just achieved.
They say that the first time you try Heroine that you become deathly ill as your body rejects. I hated Bejeweled Blitz Beta the first time too. Seeing your friend’s 6 digit high score when you have scored a measly 8544 is much like becoming violently ill to a video game nerd like me. If this chick from my homeroom in 8th grade could get over 140,000 I can certainly do better than that. Ten games later I’m screaming “What the hell is wrong with me?” while the alarms signifying my time running out echoes in my head.
“One minute? Who the hell makes a game that only lasts a minute? I have never heard of anything so stupid before.” I said as the voice of Bejeweled announced “Goooooo” on my 14th game.
It was the 20th game, just as I was about to put the shit down and move on to more productive outlets for my energy when I broke 25,000 and got my first badge.
“A badge - for me?” I must have done well. Maybe I can do better.
Maybe I can do better. That’s where it all begins, ends, and rots away to nothing. Maybe I can do better.
“Maybe you caaaaaan” the voice of Bejeweled sings in your mind.
“I can.”
“Yeeeessssss.”
“I can!”
“Gooooooooo, play with us, beat your friends, show them who is the smartest, fastest, and best at Bejewellllllllled.”
Then I couldn’t stop. I was finding myself on the Jewel first thing in the morning. Realizing, 4 hours later that not only had I not even made coffee but I didn’t have anything to eat. It’s not that big of a deal I would assure myself. I know people that have ruined relationships because they were obsessed with World of Warcraft. This is nothing like that. It’s just a stupid puzzle game.
Soon, more of my friends were on the Jewel, racking up higher and higher scores; making the voice urge me to beat them more aggressively. My family joined one by one: my sister, my brother-in-law, my Mom, and even my Dad. I think I remember selling my Dad on getting a Facebook account by saying he could compete with me on Bejeweled. I heard that my nephew had a contact high watching my sister play; urging her on like his soccer team was just about to stage a comeback in the final minutes of the game.
Then one week, my friends and I scored higher than average all in the same week and I received a notification in my email that we had the highest team score out of all players that week. We were sent to a website to claim our prize. It was that night that I disappeared from my own bed.
I awoke with not much as far as memories go. It came back to me slowly, in bits and pieces. Then the paranoia crept in. The possible answers to all of my questions rushed through my mind.
“Was I drugged? Where am I and who would do this to me? I thought of that crazy guy that I dated once and abruptly stopped talking to because I couldn’t stand the way he chewed with his mouth open. Was he behind this?
That’s just about the time the door opened and a cloaked figure entered the cell. He told me to stand and to follow him and his companion. We walked through several winding, and sterile corridors and approached a large metal door at the end of a hallway. The wet, sticky sound their footsetpes made gave me a chill and I found that I could hear the familiar clanging of jewels being cleared and hyper jewels exploding.
That is all that I could remember when I awoke back in my bed. I heard what sounded like thousands of games of Bejeweled playing beyond the door and then everything was black again. There I was, back in bed, clammy, out of sorts wondering what had happened to me for just a moment before remembering to forget and play bejeweled. That is all that I needed to do. I needed to survive, as I did before in my old life and now every chance I had I needed to play Bejeweled. Thinking of it excited me like nothing has before.
I do not know why. When I think of the why I simply remember to forget. I have glimpses of words from cloudy voices saying something about surviving. They had to survive. I was needed. My part was important to someone’s survival, something’s survival; but it’s so hard to remember when all you remember is to forget.
“Time’s Up.”
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
DOES THAT HURT OR CAN YOU JUST FEEL IT: SHEETZ FOR BRAINS
The other day I almost got my ass kicked by some redneck who didn't understand the concept of a line. You see there is this Sheetz, near my house and it is crazy busy. There is always a line and I actually feel bad for the cashiers because it seems they never get a break.
For the longest time there wasn't any sort of queue line directing the cattle to their slaughter of caffeine and nicotine. Some people, understood the concept of "One line for 4 registers." We all wait in one line and go to the next available cashier. It's that simple - just like a bank - but without the roped off area clearly marking where one would form a line. Maybe my friends and neighbors at Sheetz understand the concept but without a queue line they were all kind of lost. I'm not sure what the problem was but the management of the store obviously saw one and attempted to solve it.
When the queue line appeared it seemed to confuse the sheeple more than they were without it. The first day a man stood at the entrance to the line - with no one queued in front of him. I was completely baffled. Maybe he felt that walking 5 feet just to be the first person in line was too much trouble. Maybe he assumed that those already at the register were going to be quicker than they were. He was called to the register to pay and the line that had formed behind him shuffled forward. I thought maybe the five people in front of me would file into the queue because now we were blocking the entrance and every 14.5 seconds another customer had to push their way into the store. No, that is not what occurred. On the contrary, the bright young lady behind our first confused sack of meat stopped, read the sign that says "LINE FORMS HERE" and made the conscious decision to stand... RIGHT THERE.... where the sign said the line forms - at the ENTRANCE to the line. I mean if the sign says LINE FORMS HERE it must FORM HERE regardless of that whole roped off little line - looking thing BEYOND THE SIGN.
In the weeks after, I found myself laughing out loud at the sheer stupidity of the people I encounter at this convenience store every day. One day someone was waiting in line in reverse - and others shuffled silently behind them. Another afternoon there were two lines. The one that the smart people formed in the queue and the one the others formed on their own. Each line was feeding two registers instead of one feeding four.
This particular afternoon found me surpised to see everyone had formed a line. A simple line, in the correct way, facing the proper direction. The 8 people in my vicinity were at least smart enough to understand the concept of a line and the way Sheetz wished for customers to form one. It was amazing, and I sadly felt proud for my fellow man. 11 weeks and they finally got it.
Then, interrupting my silent celebration of the astounding intelligence of society in general, comes a man with beef jerky, a bag of Doritos, and and mouth full of chew bigger than a baseball pitcher's, stepping up to the front of the line as if he didn't see the long line that he should have been standing in. Now, I had been watching him for the entire previous transaction. I had already summed him up as the only person in the building that was too dim to understand the concept of waiting your turn in line. I started moving toward the register before the transaction before me was complete - staking my claim as the one destined to be next in line. This piece of shit was not cutting in front of me; not on the day when everyone else and their uncle was getting it right. The cashier turned toward me, looked me in the eye and said "I'll take the next person in line please." This douchebag proceeds to unload his gourmet dinner for one from his arms and looks to the cashier who is staring at me. She was being a total bitch in her ignorance of his presence, staring at me as I slide next to him and have my items promptly scanned. Einstein, who had obviously been shot down hard by a 19 year old girl at Sheetz, stepped back and said "Where does the line form?"
I matter-of-factually reply, "Where the sign says it does?"
He might have been deaf and dumb because as he assumes his place as the ass-end of the line he asks, "Whagew say?"
So I turned, looked him in the eye and answered, "I said where ... the ... sign ... says ... it ... does. I don't think he appreciated my dramatic pause. Perhaps he mistook it for condescension or misread it as patronizing, regardless he was definitely pissed. The cashier who laughed out loud at him might have made things worse but by the time I finished my transaction and turned, Sir-Thinks-Alot had been stewing for over 20 seconds and his face had turned beet red. This guy wanted to kick my ass in the worst way. On my way out the door I thought he might just be crazy enough to start something so I waited in the car for a minute so he would see that that i wasn't scared shitless of him and was actually waiting for him because I was the crazy one and he shouldn't have messed with me. He was probably freaking out the entire time he was in line because I hear I can be pretty intimidating with my bald head and go-t.
Since then I had to find a way for the idiots to not seem like idiots so I could stand in what they thought was a line without getting myself so frustrated that I was finding myself on the brink of a fist fight. My solution: pretend that they are all too smart than the average American and becasue of that they take the time to rebel from the oppression of the man. No one will tell these free-thinking people where to form a line. They form lines where they say they do.
For the longest time there wasn't any sort of queue line directing the cattle to their slaughter of caffeine and nicotine. Some people, understood the concept of "One line for 4 registers." We all wait in one line and go to the next available cashier. It's that simple - just like a bank - but without the roped off area clearly marking where one would form a line. Maybe my friends and neighbors at Sheetz understand the concept but without a queue line they were all kind of lost. I'm not sure what the problem was but the management of the store obviously saw one and attempted to solve it.
When the queue line appeared it seemed to confuse the sheeple more than they were without it. The first day a man stood at the entrance to the line - with no one queued in front of him. I was completely baffled. Maybe he felt that walking 5 feet just to be the first person in line was too much trouble. Maybe he assumed that those already at the register were going to be quicker than they were. He was called to the register to pay and the line that had formed behind him shuffled forward. I thought maybe the five people in front of me would file into the queue because now we were blocking the entrance and every 14.5 seconds another customer had to push their way into the store. No, that is not what occurred. On the contrary, the bright young lady behind our first confused sack of meat stopped, read the sign that says "LINE FORMS HERE" and made the conscious decision to stand... RIGHT THERE.... where the sign said the line forms - at the ENTRANCE to the line. I mean if the sign says LINE FORMS HERE it must FORM HERE regardless of that whole roped off little line - looking thing BEYOND THE SIGN.
In the weeks after, I found myself laughing out loud at the sheer stupidity of the people I encounter at this convenience store every day. One day someone was waiting in line in reverse - and others shuffled silently behind them. Another afternoon there were two lines. The one that the smart people formed in the queue and the one the others formed on their own. Each line was feeding two registers instead of one feeding four.
This particular afternoon found me surpised to see everyone had formed a line. A simple line, in the correct way, facing the proper direction. The 8 people in my vicinity were at least smart enough to understand the concept of a line and the way Sheetz wished for customers to form one. It was amazing, and I sadly felt proud for my fellow man. 11 weeks and they finally got it.
Then, interrupting my silent celebration of the astounding intelligence of society in general, comes a man with beef jerky, a bag of Doritos, and and mouth full of chew bigger than a baseball pitcher's, stepping up to the front of the line as if he didn't see the long line that he should have been standing in. Now, I had been watching him for the entire previous transaction. I had already summed him up as the only person in the building that was too dim to understand the concept of waiting your turn in line. I started moving toward the register before the transaction before me was complete - staking my claim as the one destined to be next in line. This piece of shit was not cutting in front of me; not on the day when everyone else and their uncle was getting it right. The cashier turned toward me, looked me in the eye and said "I'll take the next person in line please." This douchebag proceeds to unload his gourmet dinner for one from his arms and looks to the cashier who is staring at me. She was being a total bitch in her ignorance of his presence, staring at me as I slide next to him and have my items promptly scanned. Einstein, who had obviously been shot down hard by a 19 year old girl at Sheetz, stepped back and said "Where does the line form?"
I matter-of-factually reply, "Where the sign says it does?"
He might have been deaf and dumb because as he assumes his place as the ass-end of the line he asks, "Whagew say?"
So I turned, looked him in the eye and answered, "I said where ... the ... sign ... says ... it ... does. I don't think he appreciated my dramatic pause. Perhaps he mistook it for condescension or misread it as patronizing, regardless he was definitely pissed. The cashier who laughed out loud at him might have made things worse but by the time I finished my transaction and turned, Sir-Thinks-Alot had been stewing for over 20 seconds and his face had turned beet red. This guy wanted to kick my ass in the worst way. On my way out the door I thought he might just be crazy enough to start something so I waited in the car for a minute so he would see that that i wasn't scared shitless of him and was actually waiting for him because I was the crazy one and he shouldn't have messed with me. He was probably freaking out the entire time he was in line because I hear I can be pretty intimidating with my bald head and go-t.
Since then I had to find a way for the idiots to not seem like idiots so I could stand in what they thought was a line without getting myself so frustrated that I was finding myself on the brink of a fist fight. My solution: pretend that they are all too smart than the average American and becasue of that they take the time to rebel from the oppression of the man. No one will tell these free-thinking people where to form a line. They form lines where they say they do.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
The Virus Formerly Known as Swine Flu
So it's no longer swine flu, it's H1N1 - the pork industry feared their sales would continue to plummet. Hell, McDonalds probably got in on the lobby because they sell hamburgers and there is a percentage of America that thinks burgers are made of pork. When it comes down to it though, I am concerned about this but I've realized something. I am not concerned about the virus, the pandemic, the fear of death. I am concerned, and, not panicked, mostly because no one knows anything about how it will all play out. Also, the information that is coming out of the moving picture box is so varied it is mind boggling.
There is nothing worse than a 24 hour news channel obsessing over something they know nothing about. It's like when Bush finally woke the fuck up and realized the economy was tanking and every "Financial Expert" was on television scrambling for ways to digest and solve the problem. I was off yesterday and due to several projects around the house I watched way too much news. My friend's mother lived with him when she was undergoing medical treatment and drove him crazy with what he called "One fucking hour of news repeating for 24 hours." Doug couldn't stand it and I can't stand it now either. I have turned off the 24 hour loop, stopped being brainwashed by my television, and started on a search for my "own" information.
This was good actually. I read things that calmed my nerves and soothed my fears a bit. Opposing opinions that it is all just propaganda and greatly controlled by the government and the media. I don't know what to think, but I think I do know that if someone says they're not at all concerned about the future they are lying.
FOLLOW THIS LINK for a raw interview that I stumbled upon from Pittsburgh NBC Affiliate WPXI. This has been the absolute best source of information I have encountered about swine flu. It is an interview with the guy that created the H1N1 Google map. It is 26 minutes log and I suggest you take the time throughout the next couple of days to watch it at least in little bits. Very informative, extremely balanced. Best case scenario in his mind is that in the fall the flu is dominated by regular 'ol seasonal flu and disappears. Also, he says the flu will dissipate this summer so the immediate future may not be so grim.
Please return to my stupid little blog. I am a writer who never writes and will be using this space more as a creative outlet. Be well and remember to wash your hands and stop touching yo' dman face and bitin' yo' nails.
dTr
There is nothing worse than a 24 hour news channel obsessing over something they know nothing about. It's like when Bush finally woke the fuck up and realized the economy was tanking and every "Financial Expert" was on television scrambling for ways to digest and solve the problem. I was off yesterday and due to several projects around the house I watched way too much news. My friend's mother lived with him when she was undergoing medical treatment and drove him crazy with what he called "One fucking hour of news repeating for 24 hours." Doug couldn't stand it and I can't stand it now either. I have turned off the 24 hour loop, stopped being brainwashed by my television, and started on a search for my "own" information.
This was good actually. I read things that calmed my nerves and soothed my fears a bit. Opposing opinions that it is all just propaganda and greatly controlled by the government and the media. I don't know what to think, but I think I do know that if someone says they're not at all concerned about the future they are lying.
FOLLOW THIS LINK for a raw interview that I stumbled upon from Pittsburgh NBC Affiliate WPXI. This has been the absolute best source of information I have encountered about swine flu. It is an interview with the guy that created the H1N1 Google map. It is 26 minutes log and I suggest you take the time throughout the next couple of days to watch it at least in little bits. Very informative, extremely balanced. Best case scenario in his mind is that in the fall the flu is dominated by regular 'ol seasonal flu and disappears. Also, he says the flu will dissipate this summer so the immediate future may not be so grim.
Please return to my stupid little blog. I am a writer who never writes and will be using this space more as a creative outlet. Be well and remember to wash your hands and stop touching yo' dman face and bitin' yo' nails.
dTr
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