In...Defense...of...using...Ellipses...

Okay, so I wasn't going to give you a blog post today, loyal readers, but then The Wife went and complained about my use of ellipses. Now, since I fear my wife and a life of starvation without her income, I'm not going to go after her. Rather, I would like to offer a short explanation of why I love using ellipses. Call it the second obligatory fluff piece.

First, as you may or may not have noticed, I end the title of every blog post (except the first) with ellipses. Why do I do this? Well, I do it because I consider the title to be the beginning of a thought that is interrupted and continued below in the actual post. The use of the ellipses is thus meant to alert you to the continuation of vital material in the post below. Is this necessary, since you can clearly see the text below? No, probably not. But, and this is my second point, it's my blog and I'll do whatever I feel like. This includes using ellipses.

So what is The Wife's problem with my use of this symbol? I'm not really sure. My guess is that it is her inner type-A grammar psycho seeking release. However, as I just mentioned, it's my blog and I'll do whatever I feel like. Thus, I no longer feel the need to be constrained by repressive grammar rules? If I wish to write an entire post using every punctuation symbol in completely random and illogical fashion! I will? The unfortunate losers in this would be you? the readers! While I can,t expect you to have patience with a post written in such a way? it is meant solely as a rebuttal to the argument that I'm too free with my ellipses, It just goes to show that my wife hates freedom and is a godless commie!

Okay, so annoying exercise in suspending punctuation rules in a petty attempt to annoy the Wife aside, I find ellipses to be very useful tools. In many situations, they can allow a writer to leave the interpretation of a statement open to the reader. Toss some ellipses in the middle or on the end of a sentence and the reader can draw whatever conclusion they wish. For example: "The Wife is not really a godless commie, she's a ..." Now, depending upon your viewpoint, you can conclude that she is pretty much anything. I won't tell you how I would finish this, because, like I said, I would like to be able to eat in the future.

'Tis only a flesh wound...

Ahh...the immortal Monty Python. If you haven't seen Monty Python's Holy Grail, then I suggest you go rent it. There is that one classic scene involving the Black Knight and King Arthur. If you've seen it, then you know that Arthur repeatedly cuts off various extremities of the Black Knight. After each arm or leg is lopped off, the Black Knight taunts Arthur with some new way that he is going to kill him, sans whatever appendage is now missing. At one point he insists, despite having an arm or two, and a leg, or two, lying in the blood soaked grass beside him, that all he has is "a flesh wound." The humor of such a gory scene (although the special effects budget was so poor that the gore isn't really all that shocking - probably more mild than what you can see at your grocer's butcher counter) comes in the obvious absurdity of the Black Knight's statements. And that pretty much sums up what this Notre Dame fan, and I'm sure many others, are feeling tonight. After each USC touchdown I tried to convince myself that it was just a flesh wound, and that the white knights of Notre Dame (hey, we're the godly ones in this game, so we get to be the white knights instead of the black) would rally to defeat USC. Alas, at the end of the game, I came to realize that I had been left a dismembered corpse on the heap of broken dreams that has been Notre Dame football for the last 18 years. This hurts.

On a slightly more positive note, 25 years of being a Cubs fan has taught me that there is always next year. Apparently, however, Cubs players are slightly deaf. While their fans have been saying next year, they heard "next century." I'm not sure how this happens, but it's the only explanation I have for 98 years of futility. So, make plans to join me sometime this coming season to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the first Cubs World Series title, and then the year after we can celebrate the 100th anniversary of the last Cubs World Series title.

And while I'm venting my pain at watching my teams fall in defeat yet again, I'll vent that Cathedral won the Indiana 4A State Football Championship this weekend. This means that they defeated my alma mater to get there, and since my grandfather attended Cathedral, I'm sure he'll delight in pointing out their victory for weeks. My only hope is that he's just as dejected as I am about Notre Dame's loss and forgets about those other "Irish."

Have you ever seen...

... the movie "Slacker?" No? Well, don't worry, I haven't either, so I won't spoil the plot for you. The title of that movie does, however, provide an apt description of what I, your loyal author, have been over the past week or so. I feel that I owe all of you an apology. By being a slacker and not taking time out at work to write for your entertainment (something I am doing right now though) I have prevented you from taking time out of your work to be entertained. That is clearly an unacceptable oversight on my part, and I apologize.

Part of the problem, at least from my point of view, is a lack of things to write about. A good part of me wants to make this a serious blog, but that requires work, which contradicts everything you have learned about me in the preceding paragraph. Plus, that's not much fun, and how many of you would continue to read if I didn't provide "your mom jokes" to pass along to bemused co-workers? However, the other part of me wants to make this a completely pointless outlet for random thoughts that are meant to amuse. Because, in all honesty, who doesn't need to laugh at the image of a drunken moose mistakenly hitching himself to Santa's sleigh and falling to his death shortly after take-off from the North Pole? Nevermind how the moose got drunk (although I would assume it was a Canadian moose, and if anyone can name one thing to do in the frozen wasteland that is our neighbor to the north other than drink heavily, I'll happily amend this post), the point is that it's a funny image. The juxtaposition of death and the super jolly image of Santa is that perfect balance of irony and revulsion to strike at the funny bone of any well-adjusted adult, much like the little-appreciated cult classic "Pooh goes Apeshit."

Of course, now that I stop to think about which direction this post, and perhaps the blog as a whole should go, I've slacked so much that we come to Thanksgiving week, which means that tomorrow I abandon central Missouri for the seven hour drive to the heart of Oklahoma. So, before I say goodbye and wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving (except for Native Americans - I think they might still be a little bitter), I'd like to share a few thoughts on the state of Oklahoma. Well, really, there's only one overriding thought: Is it too late to give the state back to someone? I'm not picky about who. Native Americans, Mexico, Spain, France, it doesn't really matter to me. Seriously, if you've never been to Oklahoma, avoid it. Even if you are going somewhere and the fastest route would be through that state, I recommend spending the time and money necessary to go around it. Now, people I know from Oklahoma are nice. With only one or two exceptions, they seem like good people. They just happen to live in a part of the world God apparently was too bored with creation to care about. Only west Texas competes with (and beats) the ugliness that is Oklahoma. Yet, somehow Oklahoma is still able to advertise foliage tours! There are no trees in Oklahoma! Unless you count the growth-stunted shrub pines that are unlikely to change colors unless on fire (a distinct possibility in that arid environment). So, although I love my mother-in-law and her dogs dearly, this Thanksgiving I'm going to be thankful that I don't live in Oklahoma. Oh, and that Notre Dame football is back and going to destroy Southern Cal this weekend (even Jesus agrees).

Obligatory fluff piece...

Well loyal readers, we here at the Mister Speaks are celebrating an anniversary (and don't worry, it's not a wedding anniversary - I dug out a copy of the marriage license to make sure), our 10th post. That's 10 hard-hitting, insightful pieces to stimulate your thoughts and discussions. In that way, we're sort of like a reputable newspaper or news magazine, except that there's really nothing reputable about anything we do here. But, seeing as how these 10 posts all represent a significant effort on my part to provide you with entertainment and/or knowledge, we're going to take it a bit easier tonight and go with the obligatory fluff piece. You know the type of story I'm talking about - "Star quarterback also likes kittens." "Politician likes to vacation in state he/she represents." "Local man wins major award in the form of a lamp that resembles a woman's leg." Stuff that merely fills the pages and provides meaningless background information about people, only very few of whom you cared about in the first place.

Of course, since you're still reading this, I can tell that you care about me, so you are the beneficiary of the first The Mister Speaks fluff piece, in which you will learn some completely meaningless background information about me. Specifically, we're going to go with "Witty blogger enjoys ping-pong." I'll pause a moment to let the gravity of that information sink in. And I'll give you another minute to assimilate that data with the other things you already knew, or thought you knew (you're not getting unauthorized information from someone else (I'm looking at the Wife here), are you?), about me. Really, this is some fairly heady stuff. It's the kind of information that you're not likely to come across randomly, and certainly not from a source other than the horse's mouth (something else I enjoy - err, well, horses, not necessarily their mouths). Now, some say that chess is the game of kings. I disagree. For me, ping pong is the game of emperors (note the subtle shift of geographic and racial undertones - just one more example of the wit you've come to expect over the past 9 posts here at the Mister Speaks). The subtle strategy involved in scaling down a game of tennis to table-top proportions while using a ball lighter than Paris Hilton's brain. The quick reflexes needed to excel at this game make it a more reasonable gauge of athletic prowess than any football or baseball game. Plus, who doesn't love the clickity-clack of that little plastic ball on the table? I mean, you record that and sell it, you've got a guaranteed platinum record on your hands. Then, of course, there's the other wonderful aspect of ping pong - the table design makes it possible to play alone. Simply fold one side up and you're able to enjoy hours of the mesmerizing sound of ball slapping at your own pace, under the steady control of your own hand on the paddle. Surely the game of emperors.

Alas, loyal readers, our foray into the hidden world of the Mister must end. But look for future fluff pieces that are equally revealing of pointless details of my life. For example, you may learn that I like birch trees, while I curse the mere existence of hickory trees. Also, a future post may (or may not) explore why the author likes hardwood floors laid out on a north-south axis, but despises hardwood floors laid out on an east-west axis. Yes, it's part of our continuing effort to improve your knowledge of me, the Mister. Why do we do it? So that when you build a fan site extolling my greatness, you get the details right.

Excuses, Excuses...

Dear readers, I must apologize. It's been far too long without a blog post from your faithful author. I have a good reason, though, really. It involves a squirrel, some peanut butter, a little duct tape... Well, on second thought, I don't have a good reason for my absence. Really, I think it has a lot to do with a lack of suitable material to write about. That and the fact that I haven't been at work everyday for the last week. It's amazing how unmotivated to write on here one can become when one is not trying to waste time at 3am.

But, lucky for you (and most decidedly unluckily for me), I am trying to waste time tonight, so you get a new blog post to warm your hearts and minds. Unfortunately, I've got writer's block. Now, I've trolled the internet looking for something to inspire me (without getting me fired if it shows up in a history list), and I must say, there's not really all that much out there. Granted, I spent most of my night looking at any college football news I could get my hands on trying to figure out where Notre Dame would be in the BCS tomorrow (my guess: 5th), but I also spent a good deal of time looking at the hometown newspapers of those teams that had been in front of ND but lost today. Because, frankly, there is nothing more enjoyable than reveling in the misery of those whose sorrow directly leads to joy for you. I imagine that if it had been possible to get one's hands on Nazi newspapers as the Allies were advancing across France it would have been something similar. And given the local biases that exist in some of the papers I saw, I can't help but wonder if the Nazis would have been more truthful (Editor's note: I in no way support or condone the Nazi war machine. I am merely attempting to illustrate the eerie parallels between Nazi propagandists and college football pundits spouting off about Florida or USC).

Of course, the real fun begins when one ventures into the seedy underworld of college football that is fan blogs and message boards. At least journalists, Nazi-esque or not, are professionals with some semblance of decency and the occasional pang of conscience that reminds them that there are 118 other teams in Division I football, some of which are surely deserving a slight mention for some reason (most of the Florida schools are willing to do their part by stocking their rosters full of convicted, or soon to be convicted, criminals). Now, I can't begrudge anyone loyalty to their school. I can name at least two people (the Wife and I) who have attended another institution of higher learning for over two years now and have yet to purchase a single item bearing the name or logo of our present school (although we have accepted a few freebies because of our reluctance to turn down anything offered us in our state of grad-school induced poverty). What I can, and will, find fault with are those individuals who let their loyalty reach such unprecedented levels that they can't even acknowledge the merits of another school. This usually descends to depths that polite society would frown upon, possibly even criminalize, all expressed in an odd mixture of extremely graphic language and taunting at somewhere around the third grade level. And I guess that that's my biggest problem with these people. For some reason extremely intelligent people when pressed into service defending their team end up looking like first graders that grew up around 87 drunken merchant sailors in a Thai whorehouse. Sure, sure, we're not here to argue about the academic merits of the schools in question, but why can't we just have a reasoned, coherent debate without getting your mother's sexual orientation and escapades involved. Because, really, if it comes down to that, we all know your mom's dirtier. Don't make me come up with the jokes to prove it.

Well, loyal readers, I apologize for making you wait so long for a new post and then subjecting you to a barely coherent rant about a subject you probably care little about. I'll try to come up with something better for tomorrow night. But until then, keep your arguments above the third grade level, or else you're a communist.

You shook me all night long....

AC/DC is quite possibly one of the most underappreciated bands of all time. I really have no basis for this assertion, nor do I know anything about AC/DC other than, well, really that one song. Sometimes you just have to rely on instinct, even if it leads you to make statements that probably cannot be backed up with one shred of evidence. Similarly, I think that "Dirty Dancing" is quite possibly the greatest movie ever made. Think about it. An all-star cast. Edgy subject matter. Dance sequences that make "Dancing with the Stars" look like a show featuring a bunch of washed-up celebrities dancing for the first time. Some of the greatest lines ever uttered on film. "Nobody puts Baby in the corner." Pure cinematic gold. How this movie never won an Oscar (it didn't, did it?) I'll never know.

Which brings me to one of my biggest pet peeves. Movies that are made for the sole purpose of winning someone an Oscar. Sure, the Wife and I have made a point to try to see all of last year's Best Picture nominees, but I don't consider any of them to be purely Oscar vehicles. A movie about Johnny Cash would do well under any circumstance, as would movies like "Munich" and "Crash." No, the movies I am talking about are movies like "The Hours." Seriously, if "Dirty Dancing" is the greatest movie ever made (and I'm not really serious about that, in case you hadn't figured it out (which I'm sure you had, since you're smart and all)), then "The Hours" is the absolute worst movie ever made. Now, I know the Wife is going to disagree on this, as she has every other time we've discussed this movie, but I've never had a movie make me want to put a bullet through my brain before. Okay, I'll admit, the whole drawing parallels between different generations of women thing was rather interesting and thought provoking. But if the overriding point of this movie wasn't to gain as many Oscar nods as possible, I'll attempt to remove various essential organs with a rusty spoon. And that's what annoys me. That wasn't a movie that was made to entertain people that just happened to have a great cast and pick up some Oscar nods along the way. Instead, it was a movie made for critics and the people that vote for the award. And frankly, if I'm going to pay money to go see a movie, I want to feel like the people that made it actually cared whether or not I had a good time instead of prostituting themselves to the Academy.

Well, that's all I've got. Remember, AC/DC and "Dirty Dancing" are worth your time, "The Hours" is not. Oh, one more thing. You know what else is vastly underrated? That would be you, dear readers. But don't worry. I appreciate you.

The horror, the horror...

Okay, so you're worthy author has spent some time at work tonight brushing up on his Joseph Conrad. Hence the reference in the title to The Heart of Darkness. If you haven't read it, I highly recommend it, and it's a short (about 100 pages) read to boot. Now, I'm not going to go into the morality of colonialism or a discussion of the fallen state of mankind, as some of my posts have sufficiently proved the latter and I have no experience with the former. Rather, this is a time of great rejoicing here at the offices of The Mister Speaks. In three hours, I go home. Not a big deal, unless this happens to be one's 18th straight night at work, which this does. Now, you may be asking yourself, what is so horrific about this. Well, simply put, it means I'll be awake during much of the day tomorrow in an effort to get back on a normal sleep pattern. I've done this on many a Monday (I normally work Sunday nights anyway), but never the day before the election. And this, my friends, is where the horror lies.

If I see one more ad for ANY political candidate, I'm going to throw something through the TV. And I love my TV (not as much as if it were a plasma screen, but that's another story). Normally I loathe having any program interrupted by commercials, but watching these ads makes me yearn for a Quicken Loan advertisement that promises to lower your monthly mortgage payments while simultaneously lowering your future ability to afford your home (creative home loans being another story that we could go into). In fact, at this point I'm willing to go out and buy nearly any product in the vain hope that my meager contribution to that corporation's coffers would result in more expenditure on ads. Heck, I found myself watching a significant portion of the Oklahoma State - Texas game Saturday night on TBS before I went to work for the sole reason that Phillips had purchased nearly all the advertising time during the game and was presenting it with limited commercial interruption (and imagine how much better I would have enjoyed that experience on a Phillips flat-screen, not that their advertising worked or anything). Now if it were possible to retreat into the wilderness for 24 hours in order to avoid these ads, I would do it, but, alas, the Wife is not exactly a fan of camping (now THAT is a story for another day - well, actually, probably several days).

Besides, what do these ads really teach us? Do I care that one candidate may be utilizing tax shelters in the Bahamas? Only to the extent of wondering why, if it is such a big deal to the opponent (who also happens to be the incumbent), he has done little to nothing to close that particular loophole, in fact voting FOR Bush's tax laws that codified such shelters. Do I live in mortal fear that "America will not be America anymore" if illegal immigration is not curbed, as one ad suggested? Frankly no. If I'm so closed minded that some new blood coming into my nation makes me fear for its downfall, I need to go live somewhere else, not build a giant fence and reduce disadvantaged humans to the status of stray dogs. There was a time when everyone in this country (with noble exceptions) were illegal immigrants, they just happened to be "lucky" enough to have better guns and diseases. Societal toleration of genocide helped too. Thankfully, we've moved beyond the point where it's okay to just shoot those we don't agree with. Or, finally, will the terrorists win or lose depending upon who I vote for? Wow, for once I actually agree. Although, sorry to disappoint dear Republican National Committee, I can't agree that it would be a vote for a Democrat that allows them to win. No, I think voting for a party that actually encourages torture, illegal detainment, and denying access to lawyers to prisoners held in secret CIA prisons for fear that they might discuss with someone in the outside world the first two encouraged practices mentioned is the vote that actually gives victory to terrorists, communists, anarchists and any other group that has opposed America in the past, present, or future.

I said in my profile that I am a political moderate. I guess I should have said that I'm a political independent. Better yet, I'm politically "Canadian." In other words, I'm so disgusted with it all that if I wasn't determined to have my say, in whatever small way a vote may allow me to do that, I wouldn't even go to the polls on Tuesday. At the very least, at least the ads will stop after that.

P.S. For voting information you can really use, check out http://www.vote-smart.org/index.htm . Possibly one of the most useful sites on the web, this site allows you to view voting information, campaign finance information, interest group ratings, and more on both the incumbents and the challengers for your area. If you're going to vote, at least make an informed decision (and by informed I mean doing more than having a knee-jerk reaction to the TV ads).

Psychologically speaking...

Okay, apparently making reference to the "voices in my head" in a post the other day was not a good idea. Numerous people have expressed concern that I may not be entirely sane, including the voices. When even your voices turn on you, it's time to do something about it. Seeing as though I'm too poor to afford a psychiatrist, I've decided to do a sort of self-exam. So, we're going to go with word association. For each state, I'll think of a word. Then, using the power of Google, we'll determine how sane I am by seeing how many hits come up for the name of the state and the word (or phrase) I thought of. Hopefully this will finally prove to all of you that I am sane.

Alabama + "all children left behind" = 30
Alaska + "polar bear maulings" = 1
Arizona + "skin cancer hotspot" = 4
Arkansas + "bill clinton's cigars" = 1
California + "hippies live" = 950
Colorado + "chair force academy" = 1
Connecticut + "one giant suburb" = 49
Delaware + "forgotten state" = 621
Florida + "election fixing" = 37,200!
Georgia + "malarial swamp" = 362
Hawaii + "out in the ether" = 59
Idaho + "more than potatoes" = 412
Illinois + "dead voters" = 19,700
Indiana + "hoosier is a good word" = 1
Iowa + "children of the corn" = 11,600
Kansas + "wasteland" = 359,000!!!!!!
Kentucky + "gives me nightmares" = 212
Louisiana + "it's still there?" = 19,600
Maine + "might as well be canada" = 28
Maryland + "DC's toxic runoff" = 0
Massachusetts + "liberal nutjobs" = 98
Michigan + "crappy cars" = 616
Minnesota + "really freakin' cold" = 25
Mississippi + "deep fried foods" = 226
Missouri + "worst sports teams" = 151
Montana + "mountains but no people" = 0
Nebraska + " the n is for nowledge" = 26
Nevada + "giant den of sin on earth" = 0
New Hampshire + "primaries are irrelevant" = 4
New Jersey + "armpit" = 181,000
New Mexico + "scorched earth" = 38,700
New York + "has more than one city" = 10
North Carolina + "north equals yankee" = 0
North Dakota + "lack of people" = 263
Ohio + "rabid hatred of sweatervests" = 0
Oklahoma + "center of jesus-land" = 0
Oregon + "killing old people" = 64
Pennsylvania + "zombie Joe Paterno" = 0
Rhode Island + "not really an island" = 801
South Carolina + "the confederacy lost" = 396
South Dakota + "keep driving" = 942
Tennessee + "why won't dolly parton quit" = 0
Texas + "get over yourselves" = 33,900
Utah + "jesus-land part deux" = 0
Vermont + "the berkeley of the east" = 68
Virginia + "better than what's to the west" = 0
Washington + "microsoft owns the state" = 2
West Virginia + "brother marries sister" = 1
Wisconsin + "stinky cheese" = 74,900
Wyoming + "brokebacking" = 100

Well, this proves it. I'm sane. I mean, if 359,000 webpages think that Kansas is a wasteland, who am I to disagree. Although I am, apparently, the only person who associates a rabid hatred of sweater vests with Ohio and thinks that a zombie Joe Paterno is representative of Pennsylvania as a whole. Who knew??

You know what really grinds my gears...

Okay, so I'll admit that I shamelessly stole the title of this post from Family Guy. However, since FOX decided to shamelessly steal the money of their loyal fans by creating a direct-to-DVD movie about Stewie's search for his father, only to turn around and air that movie as a "special" 90 minute season final last spring, I feel justified. Anyway, enough about corporate greed (although I must admit it is nice to see Wal-Mart desperately trying to stay afloat as the weight of its bloated body drags it down. I'd say it's a toss-up between Wal-Mart and Halliburton as to which is the most evil, but that's another post). Yesterday, the Mister Speaks got a little overly serious. Okay, there were a few humorous moments mixed in (veiled references to sexual acts spring (there's another one) to mind), but on the whole it was a rather serious post. I apologize. Seriously. I had no business bringing you down like that. Part of my job is to be uplifting - to give you something to do on a boring day at work (although if I'm giving you something to do at work, does that mean I'm entitled to part of your paycheck? You know, the Wife and I are grad students...we could really use the money). So, on to what really grinds my gears.

You know what really grinds my gears? Stupid people. A couple of incidents brought this to mind. First, I work in a hospital at night answering the phones and directing calls. Sure, I could have done this right out of high school, but I thought six years of post-secondary education would be a big plus. I was right. It has allowed me to become telepathic. How the people that call know this, I'm not really sure, but it must be the brain waves that I send through the phone the instant I pick up. I don't have any real proof of my telepathic abilities, but it is the only plausible explanation I can come up with for why I get numerous calls every night asking to talk with "a nurse." Well, okay then. There are probably at least 30 here at any given time, possibly more. And since I can read your mind, just as you obviously can sense that I'm telepathic, then I must know exactly which nurse to direct you to. Makes sense, right? I mean, there's no difference in what a nurse on the ortho floor and a nurse in labor and delivery can tell a pregnant woman, right? Ahh...stupid people. They're almost as much fun as drunk stupid people. Now, I also regularly get calls right about the time the bars close asking if this is the cab company. Hmmm...let me see, so when I answered "Thank you for calling Columbia Regional Hospital, this is the Mister, how may I help you?" that didn't tell you that this isn't the cab company? Or, for those that are tipped off by this cleverly coded message alerting them that this is not, in fact, the cab company, did I somehow give the impression that I am directory assistance? I must admit, I've never called directory assistance, but I'm pretty sure that if I did, they wouldn't answer with a hospital's name. So why then do stupid drunk people insist on asking me for the cab company's number?

I can excuse drunken stupidity, I can even excuse stupidity if caused by medical trauma. However, I can not excuse the stupidity I have witnessed on numerous occasions amongst the student body at Mizzou. This was once again brought to my attention as the Wife graded papers for the law school class that she TAs. Let that sink in for a moment - in this case, I'm not even talking about undergrads. LAW SCHOOL. Anyway, one of the papers had a passage whose source was Wikipedia. Okay, I'll admit, I've used Wikipedia if I needed a quick answer to a question. But I would never dream of using it as a factual source. It is too open - I could go post an article claiming that I was a 19th century ruler of Djibouti, and unless some responsible person came along to edit the post, the potential exists for some poor 8th grader (or even law student!) doing a report on Djibouti to end up with completely false information in their report. Why does this grind my gears so? Because it represents just one more instance I have seen in my time here of students at the college level using inappropriate sources or, even worse, cheating. Here's a hint: A research paper should cite more sources than a show on the History Channel. An essay examining themes in a book should say more than a review of the book on Amazon.com. A paper comparing and contrasting two books should definitely not be cobbled together from plagiarized information taken off two or three websites. I don't know what frustrates and angers me more: That it seems most students are too lazy to do the work, or that most are too stupid to think the teachers will notice. Of course the real problem is that far too many of these people graduate and go on to take jobs from people that worked much harder but did not have the same opportunities. And one of the things/people I blame is Wikipedia. Making that much information available is, in my mind, a good thing. But the unregulated aspect of it makes it troubling. There are no safeguards outside of the good will of those that post on the site to ensure its factualness. And there is precious little to stop students from using the site to plagiarize nearly every report they ever need to write. Have an assignment on the Civil War? Wikipedia has you covered. Need a summary of Moby Dick by tomorrow? Go to Wikipedia. Of course, much of the content of Wikipedia is plagiarized in the first place from respected scholars' work. That, in and of itself, raises numerous ethical questions about Wikipedia before one even begins to look at how the material can be used in the classroom. So, who are the stupid people that really grind my gears in this case? Students who cheat themselves and the system, and the teachers that let it happen. That's right, I said teachers. For it is only when teachers fail to hold students accountable, and fail to question the propriety of a website like Wikipedia making available what amounts to prepared term papers under the guise of collaborative learning, that the collective knowledge of mankind dwindles.

Okay, I promised funny and I didn't deliver. I'll try to do better tomorrow. The best I can give you today is this: Anyone else find it ironic that an article (the one above on Wikipedia) examining, in part, the need for greater editing at Wikipedia contains such an obvious error (see the 8th paragraph)? Moral of the story? To stay off the list of things that grind my gears, stay smart. Don't worry though. Reading this blog is easily the smartest thing you can do.

It smells a little like fish in here...

Ever so rarely we, the writers over here at The Mister Speaks (I use writers to refer to myself, the voices in my head, and the ever-present thought of what might I reasonably say without having a heavy metal pot smacked across my head by the Wife), like to take a slightly different approach. You see, it's not all "Your Mom" jokes here. Sure, on occasion some fun is poked in the general direction of a few politicians, but The Mister Speaks is about serious issues, like proper dishwasher loading techniques, and a few jokes here and there shouldn't detract from the importance of these issues. So, tonight, we turn to more heady subjects, like fish.

Now, at about this point, you may be asking, how is fish a heady subject? Well, many people, myself included, enjoy eating fish and other types of seafood. I mean, anyone who has ever enjoyed snacking on a fish taco can tell you what an excellent, even stimulating, experience that can be. So you can imagine my shock and dismay when I saw these reports that ocean fishing may be wiped out within the next 50 years (see stories here, here, and here). Now, there are certainly those around the world who do not enjoy eating fish. And there is definitely a case to be made that those of us (and by this I mean nearly everyone) in the relative opulence of the Western world consumes far too much flesh, be it from land or sea (I must note that this point was raised first by the Wife in a discussion on this topic earlier). But two points seem to me to relatively important here. First, fish, provided they are not farm raised, require no human input of food to thrive. In other words, unlike a cow or pig, there is no one sailing the world's oceans dumping corn overboard to feed the fish. They do quite well on their own, at least until humans come along and either overfish them or destroy the ocean floor through pollution and harmful fishing techniques. Thus, in theory at least, every nation has a vested interest in saving the natural ocean fisheries in the interest of promoting a greater world-wide food supply (it is possible to feed more people on the food fed to a cow to fatten it than it is to feed on the meat of that same cow. More ocean fish = less cows = more corn). More on this in a little bit. A second point can be raised regarding culture. Try to imagine a Japan without sushi (non-farm raised sushi at least) or a Britain without fish and chips (cod, the fish most commonly used, being one of the most threatened species). Sure, both countries have beef. Hell, Japan even treats their cows better than most men are treated by their wife (seriously, beer and massages? Ever tried getting those from your wife?). But both have issues with beef production. Japan lacks enough space to raise extensive herds of cattle (hence the high price of Kobe beef, well, that and the beer). Britain lacks a protection against that nasty tendency many of their cattle possess of contracting mad cow disease. Besides, given the appalling lack of proper denistry that seems to challenge your average Briton, which is the more appropriate diet: tough beef or soft fish?

Now, I said earlier that the nations of the world had a vested interest in preserving the fisheries. Apparently this naive statement of mine developed from a misguided belief that world leaders like to eat. How wrong I was. One of the stories above mentions that warnings about the decline of the cod fishery in the North Sea have been directed at European leaders for quite some time now. Apparently these warnings fell on deaf ears (not entirely surprising given that Germany seems to like participating in wanton destruction while France tends to run at the mere suggestion of confrontation). So, with Europe clearly unwilling to do anything, I turned with hope in my eyes to my own beloved USA. Surely, I thought, we would act upon dire scientific warnings. And then I read this and this. Okay, so apparently when I said "we would act upon dire scientific warnings" I wasn't specific enough. I didn't mean that we would distort or suppress these warnings. Are you kidding me?!? Okay, so these stories don't point directly at research on fisheries, but is it that big of a leap from suppressing studies linking global warming to hurricanes to suppressing data on harm being done to the fisheries? Maybe I'm blowing this out of proportion. Maybe there was good reason to doubt scientific experts who have spent years in their fields. Besides, it's not like anyone in this country would care about a link between global warming and hurricanes, right?

Am I angry when I read things like this? Yes, I am. Am I probably somewhat responsible? Yes, I think I am. I don't recycle, and I rarely think twice about engaging in an American consumer culture that encourages wastefulness while draining resources from lagging regions of the world. Am I hopeful that things will change? No, I'm not. Any administration that responds to record-setting hurricanes by passing an energy bill bloated with kickbacks to oil companies is unlikely to take action on a few measly fish (and I doubt the Democrats would do much better). So, my friends, is anyone up for a trip to Britain and one last round of fish and chips?

Excuse me while I whip this out....

Oh, loyal readers, what a long and difficult road this blog has tread (hey, if you can be loyal readers after two posts, why can't I have had a long and difficult road to tread to get to three posts?). After reading my last post again, and I have, because there is precious little else to do at 3am, I realized that I might have come across on the Bush regime as a little harsh. Now, in the interest of being "Fair and Balanced" (copyright/trademark/reserved/paid for in blood by FOX), I think it is beholden upon me, the voice crying out in the wilderness (how do you like that? Possible trademark infringement and blasphemy in one sentence!) to present both sides of the story equally. So, in partial honor of the upcoming midterm elections, and in partial honor of my sleep deprived state which prevents me from writing anything more intelligent, I present the first annual bipartisan "Your Mom" off. Basically, I'll come up with "Your Mom" jokes for roughly five members of each party (hey, can you name more than five Democrats? I didn't think so). Hopefully they'll be funny. Additionally, with a little luck, I'll still sound somewhat intelligent at the end. So, here we go. Enjoy!

Let's start with the obvious: The President and former President -

Pres. Bush (W): "Your mom is so ugly she makes Margaret Thatcher look like a centerfold."
Pres. Clinton: "Your mom is so fat she single-handedly made Arkansas the nation's largest importer of fried chicken."

Okay, relatively mild. Now, on to Senators and Congressmen (and a VP):

V.P. Cheney: "Your mom is so fat that accidental hunting accidents while out shooting ducks with you result in nothing more than a new ear piercing."
Sen. Kerry: "Your mom is so stupid, fat, and ugly (the trifecta!) that she was too stupid, fat and ugly to even furnish you with potential punchlines to your horrid, horrid attempts at humor."
Fmr. Rep. Foley: "Your mom is so stupid, she failed to teach you it's not okay to turn your Congressional office into something resembling the set-up to the punchline in The Aristocrats."

Alright, this is getting a little harsher. Two more Republicans, and three more Democrats to go:

Fmr. Attorney-General Janet Reno: "Your mom is so stupid, she forgot how to get back into her stable."
Fmr. First Daughter Chelsea Clinton: "Your mom is so stupid, she still buys Bill boxes of cigars for Christmas."
Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice: "Your mom is so stupid, she let a Domer go to work for Bush."

And now on to the glorious finish:

Sen. Ted Kennedy: "Your mom is so stupid, she continued to let her sons go into politics." (What, too soon?)
Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld: Unfortunately, a little research has shown that Satan has never married. Thus, Rumsfeld was either conceived out of wedlock, or spawned of Satan himself. Either way, it leaves me with little choice but to close without a "Your Mom" joke for this worthy foe.

Alright everyone, I'm spent. Hope I've offended everyone equally so that I can't be faulted for partisanship. Remember, fat, stupid, ugly mothers know no political boundaries.

You Love Me! You Really, Really Love Me!

Loyal readers (isn't it easy to be loyal when there's so little to read? Still, congratulations), I must convey some disheartening news. Seems the Wife (she calls me the Mister, I call her the Wife. Well, I call her a few other things too, but only when I'm sure she's several states away), through every fault of my own, has discovered the existence of this blog. Let's all pray that she doesn't, first, make me put my opinions away in the toy chest before, second, sending me to bed for a nap. I was never much of a napper. Then I started working nights. Although, can you really call it a nap when the sleep you're getting during the day is the first sleep you've had in 24 hours? Ahhh, life's just full of difficult questions.

I'll give you two others. One, how can someone so intelligent be so dumb? Now, as this question refers to the "gentle" Wife, some delicacy, in order to preserve my life, is called for. This refers to one area of her life, and ONE area only. I repeat: ONE. Don't go running off to her with some story about how I called her dumb. Because that's not what I'm doing. She's very smart. However, one of the risks you run when marrying an intelligent, driven, woman (and a feminist) is that you will not end up with a June Cleaver-esque domestic goddess. Now, this is okay with me. I like to cook, cleaning, while a chore, can be fun, and laundry isn't bad, as the spin cycle allows time for shooting simulated Nazis on a video game. So, while I am happy to do most of the housework most of the time, situations arise, such as these past two weeks, where I'm working every night and thus not getting much done. No big deal. Until it comes time to load the dishwasher. And so I ask you: How can someone so intelligent do such a bad job at it? To look in the dishwasher after she has loaded it is like looking at a Andy Warhol painting that Picasso or Dali "touched up." Maybe I take it a bit too far, lining everything up between the little plastic posts that I crazily believed served some purpose other than to provide a $0.05 per day job to some poor foreign worker. That being said, I do appreciate all the Wife has done at home while I've been working, so much so that I'll only ask one more thing of her: Honey, if you read this before I get home from work, I'm really tired, so could you lay out a pillow and blanket on the couch for me before barring me from the bedroom?

For a second question, I leave you with this: Can't Kerry do any better??? If you haven't seen it yet, check out Kerry's remarks and Bush's reaction here, here, and here. I get where he was going with the joke. If you don't study, if you don't learn, then you make God-awful foreign policy decisions that destabilize not only the entire Middle East, but north-east Asia as well (see Korea, North. Although I suppose he may have been counting on Team America to take care of that little problem). But seriously, can't Kerry do better? That's the type of joke that requires too much thought for the average American (rest assured, I do not consider you, dear reader, to be average. Well, maybe you Bob, but not the rest of you). Kerry would have done much better with something like "Bush, your mom is so old she ran with Dolly Madison from the White House as the British closed in." Wham, bam. By going with a joke such as this, not only do you appeal to the lowest common denominator, but you still show some intelligence. I mean, who doesn't love a good "your mom" joke? Seriously. Show me someone who doesn't laugh at a "your mom" joke, and I'll show you a vodka-swilling, un-American communist. So, Kerry, next time, stick to "your mom" jokes with a bit of intelligence mixed in. It's not really funny, but neither are you.

Okay, enough of that. Tomorrow, as the Mister Speaks (it's kind of like As the World Turns, but without the ridiculous story lines), we'll delve deeper into the murky world of..... umm.... well.... errr.... the world.