Taiwan On - The Blog

I Got Nuthin

2009-09-07T14:54:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted in a long while, and it really bothers me. I want to write but nothing comes to mind. Actually, it's pretty scary. And of course I'm sure it bothers all my fans out there.

I wrote a piece that was a self-mock (after reading the mockable.org self-mock) but it turned out to be a bit too personal. So I put that in the vault.

I wrote a piece about the cars that I have owned. But it just wasn't worthy. I may polish that turd someday and post it here, but not today.

My company just went through a re-org and I had some good stuff on that. But it just seemed like a bad career decision to post the details. Here's a sanitized version:

Step 1: Things in our division aren't going as well as hoped. Stockholders are angry.

Step 2: Fire the incompetent management. Good idea, but...

Step 3: Hire new management. Lots of new people at the top. People with new ideas. People who have no idea what we do.

Step 4: The new management changes the name of the division. How does this help? Our customers were still getting used to the previous name change.

Step 5: The new management produces a new logo for the division. At great expense. Oh yeah, that always works.

Step 6: The new management reorganizes. When in doubt, reorganize. I think we'll try the reverse matrix organization model. Do you want fries with that?

Step 7: Aside from the new empty suits and the new logo, nothing changes.

Step 8: Go to Step 1.

Or something like that. Gotta get ready for work.

Will Shortz is a Male Reproductive Appendage

2009-08-03T02:31:00.000-07:00

I love crossword puzzles. I am fairly good at solving them. But living in SouthEast Asia has gotten me a bit off my game.

As of late, we have had a visiting engineer who gets the International Herald Tribune, for free, at his hotel. And he is nice enough to read the Tribune, then give it to me so that I can attempt to solve the crossword. The Tribune is a fine publiction, and it includes what I at first thought was an amusing crossword. Little did I know.

I imagine Will Shortz (the name jokes could fill an entire 'nother blog segment) was once an excellent puzzle producer. He has a "reputation" at The Times. But now he appears to be a heroin-addled poser who is trying to live off his "reputation". Here are some examples of the inexplicable hints that he is producing (from the July 23rd edition of the IHT):

1 Across: "Show-off". Will's answer - HOT. No really, I cheated and looked at the July 24 solution to the July 23 puzzle. Will actually thinks that HOT means "Show-off".

4 Across: "Manx cries". Will's answer - MEOWS. Manx's (sp?) don't meow. They rip your head off in the middle of the night while you are sleeping in your tent on the Appalachian Trail.

9 Across: "U.S. Marine". Will's answer - DEVIL. I had to look at this multiple times to make sure that I did not get it wrong.

16 Across: "Like some flocks". Will's answer - OVINE. Fine. Ovine. Why not just change the clues to read "A word". Or maybe Will could be more specific and say "An adjective".

42 Across: "Alexander _______, Russian who popularized a chess opening". Will's answer - PETROV. See, this is where you really can sense that Will has given up.

54 Across: "Plotted for urban uses". Will's answer - ZONED. I figured this one out, but the clue is not accurate. Zoning is not an urban action. It happens outside of the urb as well. For all I know it happens in Nebraska. I think Will is zoned...

4 Down: "With "the" and 32-Across, describing an old Matryoshika doll". Now you're just makin' shit up. Have another hit.

39 Down: "Cornwallis's schol". I don't care how well read you are, you did not know this off the top of your head. You looked it up.

63 Down: "Stone, e.g." Will's answer - PELT. I give up.

Will, please stop. Just stop. You are taking all of the fun out of it. Call The Times and tell them you need some time off. Go to the library. Get your ego removed. Learn English.

Otherwise, you suck.

It is Lingering. Man is it Lingering.

2009-07-28T03:06:00.000-07:00

I am sure that almost every person alive today (except Sean Hannity) has experienced the sensation of having a song "stuck in my head". Perhaps this did not occur in earlier times. I can't picture Attila the Hun walking around humming Hall and Oates "Your Kiss is On My Lips". But nowadays it seems to be perfectly normal.

For me, the sensation usually lasts a day or two. In really bad cases, I will actually play the song out loud and that will clear things. But currently I have had the same friggin' song lodged in my brain for at least THREE WEEKS! Linger by the Cranberries. Even now, the part where Dolores (rhymes with a female body part) "oooohs" her way through the intro. It keeps looping through my skull. God/Allah/Buddah, please make it stop.

So I have decided that the only way to make it stop is to mock it. I will mock Linger. Like nobody has mocked Linger since 1993.

First, the band name. What kind of lame band name is "The Cranberries"? I guess noun-based band names can be just about anything you want: "The Dot Matrix Printers", "The Custom Hubcaps", "The Herbaceous Perennials". Actually, these are all good band names. For bands that simply couldn't make the effort to formulate a real band name. Like "Jethro Tull" or "White Stripes".

Second, the band. Where do they rate in alt-rock-indie-post-punk-art-rock band pantheon? Top 100? Maybe top 50? Hard to tell.

Third, the concept of the song. Poor Delores is stuck in love with some douchebag who ignores her and treats her badly. There are literally millions of women who fall into this same category. Why should that stick in my head?

Third, the video. Have you seen this thing? Black and white, blurry shots, some scary German-looking peeping tom, Delores looking all bummed out, some Hasidic Jews. I guess I am not artsy-fartsy enough to process the images. The antique porno films are a plus, but not enough of a plus to explain this mess.

Fourth, the lyrics. Courtesy of http://www.elyrics.net/, because I can't figure out what Delores is talking about half the time. "if you could return, don't let it burn, don't let it fade." What? I think this line was penned because return rhymes with burn. "If you, if you could get by, trying not to lie". Duh. The guy is lying to you. He is not going to stop. "Do you have to let it linger?" This line is repeated ad-nauseum. In the song and in my brain. For the last 3 WEEKS! Delores, I'm beggin' you to stop. And what does this line mean? Linger, like, what?

Fifth, the music. Actually, the music is fairly good. Not too art-house pretentious. Damn.

Sixth, Delores. Actually, quite fetching. But changing the hairstyle every week is a sure sign of mental health issues. Which I guess is the whole point of the Linger song.

There, Linger has been mocked. And it is still looping in my head. Please send helpful comments. This could go on for months, and nobody wants that.

The Mess that is Texas

2009-07-25T06:25:00.001-07:00

I was walking down the street today, enjoying the tourist rabble that infest, um, visit Danshuei every weekend, when a dude walked by with a "Don't Mess With Texas" t-shirt. WTF? I guess a lot of Taiwanese folk visit Texas because, I dunno. If you had to choose one state from the US of A, why would you choose Texas? Because it is an upgrade from Oklahoma?

Anyway, I found it odd, but also a challenge that required a response. Texas, I will damn well mess with you any time I like. What makes you so special? Folks from Delaware don't wear t-shirts that say "Don't Mess With Delaware". They wear t-shirts that say "Delaware? Where is Delaware?".

Texas can be messed with on several fronts. To wit:

1) In the beginning, you could not even decide which country you belonged to. "We are Mexican." "We are French." "We are Spanish." "We are American, but Confederate." Honestly, you are like a women picking out shoes.

2) The Alamo. You lost.

3) You are flatter than a mall parking lot. In fact, I believe the original mall parking lot was designed based on Texas specifications. I am sure the designers had a meeting and said "Just make it big and flat like Texas."

4) Your weather sucks. Or blows, I can't make up my mind. If it is not horribly hot and humid, then that means a hurricane is devastating the trailer parks.

5) I worked with a guy who had a big Texas flag hanging in his office. In Massachusetts. And he wore cowboy boots with his shirt, tie, and dress pants. OK, we get it. You are from the state that is flat with bad weather. Why does that entitle you to dress like an idiot?

6) The Dallas Cowboys. Back in the day, the Cowboys were America's team. Roger Staubach, Tom Landry, who can argue? But now you and Tony Romo are just tabloid fodder. What was your record last year. Hmm, gotta surf the Interweb to check this out. Wait a sec.... Oh, 9-7. That's like kissing your sister, but with tongue.

7) You have an inordinate amount of rednecks. I was working on a project in North Bumfuck TX, and I had a discussion with a gentleman who had decided that he needed to keep guns in his house because, if the US govmint collapsed, he could fight off the US military that were coming to rape his wife and children. Or some such.

8) One word. Waco.

Normally I would end this rant with a good ol' "Texas. You suck." But in reality, Texas, you're not that bad. Just a bit full of yourself. Get over it. And stop selling those ludicrous "Don't Mess with Texas" t-shirts. Especially to Taiwanese visitors who will wear any t-shirt that has an English language phrase printed on it.

The Grammar Police

2009-07-22T06:17:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Shiny Rod for the inspiration for this blog entry.

-----------------------------------------------------

There are those who take it upon themselves to tsk tsk at our grammatical errors. Even MS Word has a grammar checker (which is one of the signs of the apocolypse). To them I say “Take it down the hall to someone who gives a shit.”. If the meaning is clear, then get out of my grill. Here are some examples:

Good vs. Well:

This one is the gold standard of grammar. If you say/write “good” instead of “well”, you will be barred by the Grammar Police from membership in the Good Writers Club of North America. And that would be bad.

As I understand it, "good" is an adjective, meaning that it applies to nouns. As in good shot, good sex, and good bowel movement.

Whereas "well" is an adverb, meaning that it applies to verbs. As in you shot the ball very well Mr. Johnson, you pleasured me very well Mrs. Johnson, and well I hope Mr. Johnson does not find out about Mrs. Johnson's pleasuring me.

But there is a gray line. "Good" and "Well" are sometime used interchangeably. As an example: “I did good on the grammar exam.” vs. “I did well on the grammar exam.” Both of these statements are understandable. In fact, the former actually sounds better than the latter. The latter sounds like it was uttered by some dysfunctional rich kid from Chestnut Hill.

Double Negatives:

I can’t understand why the Grammar Police don’t stop complaining about this. There isn’t one example that doesn’t make sense. As the good Lord says, aren’t we supposed to not judge people? There is no way that I don’t violate this grammatical rule.

Ending Sentences with a Preposition:

I have no idea what this means. I looked it up on the web and apparently it is not that bad. From what I understand, it may lead to premature ejaculation, but that’s about it. But the Grammar Police will get you. Don’t end sentences with whatever prepostions are!

Pause…

OK, I ran out of grammar rules. Because they suck and I am not that interested. But since I have already started this post, here are some more grammar rules that irritate the crap out of me. Courtesy of GrammarBook.com. Home of the anal retentives.

Editor’s note: This is fun. Like shooting catfish in a barrel. Here’s more.

“Use only one space following periods, commas, semicolons, colons, exclamation points, question marks, and quotation marks.” Screw you, I will use as many spaces as I feel are appropriate. And. punctuation, marks; as: required!

“Who refers to people. That and which refer to groups or things.” That which I am writing about is a group of people who need to get out more often.

“Use a question mark only after a direct question.” WTF?

“Who vs. Whom: Use the he/him method to decide which word is correct.” Who farted in here? Can whom just take it in the other room?

“An en dash, roughly the width of an n, is a little longer than a hyphen. It is used for periods of time when you might otherwise use to.” No, I am not making this up. Check it out for yourselves. http://www.grammarbook.com/punctuation/dashes.asp

“Use the colon after a complete sentence to introduce a list of items when introductory words such as namely, for example, or that is do not appear.” My colon is used for one thing, and one thing only: pooping, number 2, pinching a loaf, seeing a man about a horse, taking a shit.

Grammar police: you suck.

Middle Managers Managing

2009-07-20T06:19:00.000-07:00

For those of you lower-middle managers who have dreams of being promoted to upper-middle management, but are impeded (that means "slowed down") by those pesky employees who are just ruining everything with their emails about cost/schedule problems and other, you know, "technical issues", here is a primer (that means an easy explanation that you have an outside chance of understanding) on how to deal with these troublemakers.

This primer is done in the form of a hypothetical question (that means a pretend question) and several recommended responses.

Pretend email:

Bob: There is no way we can install this update by July 5. We don't have the manpower, and the update requires three diskettes and a reboot. On 250 workstations. If you would like this update to be done on schedule, please arrange for additional manpower and weekend overtime. Regards, Fred

Response Recommendation #1: Ask a Lot of Questions.

Fred: How many more people do you need? When do you need them? Can we accomplish the install with fewer diskettes? What is a diskette? What is a reboot? When do you need me to arrange for more manpower? How many weekends will this require?

Response Recommendation #2: Go on a Tangent, but in a Managerial Style.

Fred, look we need to concentrate on low cost, high impact solutions. Our marketing department is targeting 50% increase in delivery of integrated systems. Let's look for a synergistic approach.

Response Recommendation #3: Accuse the initiator (that means the person who wrote the original email)

Fred: Can't you expedite this? This need to be done ASAP. Please do this on an urgent basis.

Response Recommendation #4: Out of Office Assistant

Works every time. We'll send somebody around your office to turn it on. Leave it on as long as you would like. Try to look busy in the mean time.

Response Recommendation #5: Forward to another lower-middle manager.

Bernie: Fred is having trouble with the software update. Can you lend a hand? I'll be out of the office next week...

Response Recommendation #6: You are having email problems,

Blame it on IT. And delete the email.

Response Recommendation #7: Ask for daily reports.

Fred: We need to get this update done as soon as possible. Please update my daily on the progress.

Middle managers - you suck.

Mexican Hookers and a Donkey Show

2009-07-08T04:02:00.000-07:00

Editor's Note: The title of this post does not, in any way, reflect the content of the post. It was inserted at the last minute in order to increase search hits. And it is pretty friggin' funny.

Before I launch into a particularly poignant and, if I might add, well written blog post about fireworks, youth, and a mangled toad, let me just say that the reason I am writing this post is because of the fine work of Greg Miller from Cleveland, OH. His 4th of July post is a must read. Go to "Nurse the Hate" and read it. Now. The link is just there, on the right hand side of the screen, under "Other Douchebags". Then come back and read the rest of this post. It's OK, I can wait.

(Humming the Star Spangled Banner....)

Welcome back.

I grew up in the great state of Massachusetts, where fireworks were clandestine on a par with Playboy and heroin. I was a kid when I was growing up, so I cannot remember the murky details of how we were able to get our hands on these precious pieces of packaged gunpowder, but when we got them, they were pure gold. The regular old firecracker was good. Bottle rockets were guarded like nuke-u-ler missles. M-80's were, well, let's just say that Tom Cruise in MI-2 would not be able to wring them from our grasp. Even if he had Ving Rhames working secretly behind the scenes. Because back when I grew up, you could not locate stuff on a laptop PC while traveling on a high speed train. You could only locate stuff using a CB radio. Sometimes. If you could get past the Smokeys.

In any event, we had to use our ammunition intelligently and productively. Not like Mr. Greg Miller, who appears to have had a connection to the fireworks kingpin. I can just picture him placing the order on the phone like Joan Cusack in Grosse Point Blanke - "No Goddammit, I said FIVE thousand M-80's".

One day we decided that the best use of our stash would be to blow up a frog. Yes! That would be the coolest thing ever! Imagine frog guts flying everywhere! We were sure that it would go down in kiddom as one of the best explosions ever.

Frogs were not that easy to come by. It took time and guile. But, after we got the blowing up a frog idea into our young craniums, we were not willing to waste time actually catching a frog. The expected results were too phantasmagorical. We had to act now. So we found a toad in the backyard. A rather small toad. Poor bastard.

Well this toad was not going to be able to swallow an M-80. So we stuffed a regular old firecracker down it's throat. I am pretty sure that this killed him. It was pretty gross. Then we lit the fuse and waited for the greatest backyard kid explosion ever. As you have probably already guessed, the results were disappointing. I still, to this day, feel bad for that toad.

But I got over it quickly back then. As Greg states in his post, and I am paraphrasing, kids back then were mentally retarded. We did the stupidest stuff, and we did it without plastic helmets. The fact that there is still human civilization is a testament to how hard it is for kids to kill themselves.

So give your kids fireworks. They rock! Let them go out by themselves on bicycles and try to jump that ditch. It's important! Let them throw rocks at each other. Let them ruin the neighbors new patio by walking in the wet cement because it feels weird. Don't get angry when they set the field behind the house on fire. Oops. Getting a little autobiographical.

As I have said before, the kids are alright.

Taiwan Taxes

2009-07-02T00:28:00.000-07:00

Back in February, I received my Taiwan tax information from the local organization that is responsible for preparing my Taiwan taxes. The organization will go nameless because I don't want to get sued (which is highly unlikely because nobody ever actually reads my blog). I ignored it, and several follow up emails because, well, I'm an idiot.

So recently (late June), I decided to take a look at what was sent and do something. Whoops. It turns out that I had to supply lots of information about myself and my wife. Scramble, scramble, scramble, here's the information.

I owe what? I don't even pay that much in the US of A!!! No worries, my company has a "tax equalization" policy that ensures I don't pay any more or less in taxes than if I was working in the States.

And it is due when? June 30!!! OK, so my bad. I asked the folks in the organization that is responsible for my taxes in general (which shall also go unnamed) if they could pretty please transfer the huge amount of money to the organization that is responsible for my Taiwan taxes. Case closed.

Nope. It turns out that there have been some Homeland Security rule changes and the organization that is responsible for my taxes in general cannot transfer money to the organization this is responsible for my Taiwan taxes or people may die in Afghanistan.

The organization that is responsible for my taxes in general actually came through and got the mony transferred to a Taiwan bank account that I maintain for just such cases. However, I had to go to that bank and show my passport and sign some forms to prove that it was not drug money or terrorist money or Monopoly money or whatever. And then there were complications with the forms (my local bank is still operating with a fax machine). It all got finally sorted out (via telex) and I could pay my taxes with the special form that was sent to me by the organization that is reponsible for my Taiwan taxes via registered mail.

If you have complaints about the US Postal Service, save them. The Post Office in Taiwan makes the US Postal Service appear to have counter workers who are actually vertical. And the Taiwan Post Office is also some sort of bank. But not the kind of bank at which I can pay my tardy Taiwan taxes.

And this is the really funny (sad? boring?) part. The person at the organization that is responsible for my Taiwan taxes was just constantly emailing me because I was going to be LATE!!!! YOU. ARE. GOING. TO. BE. LATE!!!!! LATE I TELL YOU!!! If I don't pay my taxes by July 6, I will owe an additional 862 NTD. That's less than $30 USD. I spill more whiskey than that every week.

I went to the local other kind of bank on Wednesday (the kind of bank that also sells 25 pound bags of rice) with a Taiwanese co-worker, and guess what. They could not process the payment. I was informed that I had to go to the "tax bureau". Ahhhh, living life large and loving it. Can't a brother just pay his taxes?

There is a new plan in place, but it involves heavy machinery and a spatula. Wish me luck.

The Day the Celebreties Died

2009-06-26T03:27:00.000-07:00

First it was Ed McMahon. I grew up watching him. He is almost as much of an icon as Johnny. I was sad to see him go, but it seemed appropriate. He was 80-something, he was born and grew up in the cigarette/martini era, and he had passed from celebrity. Goodbye Ed. Thanks.

Then Farrah died. WTF? I know she was all stoned out and stuff, but dead? Dead? That's almost like saying that I don't have a penis. Hundreds, thousands, tens of hundreds of thousands of pubescent males have fond memories of flogging the dolphin whilst dreaming of Farrah. And she knew it, like Goldie Hawn. But apparently something in her genetic makeup caused her to break under the weight of all that teenage testosterone. Shocking? Yes. Hard to explain? No. Goodbye Farrah. Thanks.

And because these things happen in three's, Michael the Martian went and kicked the bucket. I guess the Ed McMahon and Farrah Fawcett tributaries will have to wait. This is the A-bomb.

I like Mike, but dude was a straight on alien. Years ago, when I was young and in college, Michael rocked. Really. I mean "rocked" as in not disco, not rap, not like anything else. He did it. Thanks Michael.

But that was a long time ago. What is the last MJ song/video that you remember? What up with the face surgery? How could you hang your son out over a London balcony?

A friend says it was drugs. Probably. I am sure we will find out in a full-on Dianna media probe. I'm not interested. I am just mourning the death of three people that were icons in my lifetime.

OK, since nobody reads this blog anyway, I'm going to rant about this. I've been listening/reading about this celeberity death thing like everybody else and I have to say this. Three people/groups have had "it" since I have been alive: Elvis, The Beatles, and Michael. Period. You can't argue about it. You can't explain it. It has nothing to do about who wrote what. It has nothing to do with "Well the Rolling Stones were there" or "Bob Dylan was instrumental" or "Tupac changed the landscape". Elvis/The Beatles/Michael had "it". End of story. Stop trying to explain the unexplainable. You're making a jackass of yourselves.

Flying in an Aeroplane Sucks

2009-06-25T05:31:00.000-07:00

Flying on an areoplane was once a magical experience. I have vivid memories of my father taking off from the Augusta, ME, airport on "The Yellowbird" in the late 1960's. I was sure that he was being attended to by mini-skirted flight attendants asking which brand of cigarette he prefered. And he was going someplace else, away from Augusta, ME.

In 2009, it's like Guantanamo without the waterboarding.

First of all, the security checks. I understand that some bad people were responsible for the horrific deaths of thousands of people in NYC. But why did that translate into gathering a bunch of retards off the street and giving them uniforms? And giving them the power to make us take our shoes off?

Secondly, the boarding. Dickwads with too much carry-on. Cell phone enthusiasts. Hicks who cannot find seat 37D. I swear they get these people from an "Airplane" extras casting call.

Thirdly (did I just say Thirdly? Damn I hate that), there is the Safety Speech. The speech is always half-hearted and ignored. For once, I’d like to hear a real pre-flight Safey Speech. To wit:

Welcome aboard General Airways Flight 4219 with service to Chicago O’Hare Airport - ‘the Hub that everyone avoids’ - with continuing service to some God-forsaken Midwest town that even Rand McNally has yet to visit. Please pay attention to this safety briefing, even if it is the twiddly-seventh time you’ve heard it, because otherwise you’ll be bypassed during the peanut distribution.

If you refer to the safey card in the seat back in front of you, you’ll notice that there are several pieces of previously used chewing gum attached. Ignore these and the other debris left by underpaid aeroplane cleaning personnel and note the exit locations. These exits could be used in the extremely unlikely event that the airplane lands in one piece.

Your seat cushion can be used as a flotation device, but the chance of you surviving a water impact is about the same as that of you surviving a land impact (0.00000033), so unless we crash into a land mass and bounce into a water mass, your seat cushion will remain, well, a seat cushion.

We’re not even going to go into the seat belt discussion, because if you need an explanation on how to use your seat belt, then we hope you die horribly because you are screwing up the gene pool.

Fourthly (now I'm really over-doing it), the actual flight. There are several categories of annoyance:

Screaming babies: No one likes sitting near screaming babies on an airplane, but if they are quiet, they can actually provide a bit of amusement - on a philosiphical level. The concept of "If man were meant to fly" is not something that has yet registered in their cerebral cortex. They are quite unaware of the fact that they are flying around in a multi-ton vehicle controlled by a vast array of digi-electro-mechanical geegaws that, at any minute, could plunge into the nearest geographical feature, leaving only a charred mosaic of flesh and technology that would take months of CNN updates to sort out. When I watch them, I am oddly comforted.

Beverage/Meal service: Not really a service, per se, just a mandated aeroplane function performed by a collection of misfits. Homosexuals that think they look good in uniform, blonds that want to marry a pilot, older blonds that remember the days of serving cigarettes in mini-skirts, and assorted other losers that could not find a real job.

Funny noises: They scare the crap out of me. Actually, scary noises are the equivalent of waterboarding. Scratch the "without the waterboarding" comment that was previously written.

Restrooms: Just make sure that all of your bodily functions have been attended to before you board. Because you do not want to go there.

Finally, the phrase that everyone on the Guantanamo aero-detainment cylinder is longing to hear: "We are now landing at YourDestinationAirport. We hope you had a pleasant flight."

I didn't. And you know it.

Undisputed Truth

2009-06-22T14:56:00.000-07:00

I just tripped over a Golden Oldie – “Smiling Faces” by Undisputed Truth. Which got me to thinking. Are there really undisputed truths? Let’s put it to the test:

“The sky is blue” – It appears to be blue, but that’s just some refraction shit goin’ on. It actually does not have any color.

“The Red Sox will never win the World Series.” Well, we did. Twice. 2004 and 2007.

“Death and Taxes”. Sure everyone is gonna die. Except me. So there goes the theory. Plus I just got $2K back from my Taiwan taxes. That makes taxes a good thing.

“War. Hng. Good God y’all. What is it good for? Absolutely nuthin’." I guess there is at least one Undisputed Truth.

The Coffee Cup Chronicles

2009-06-11T03:48:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, your life is defined by your coffee cups.

I grew up in a coffee environment. With a predominantly Swedish heritage, this is no surprise. Swede's drink coffee like alcoholics drink vodka. Actually, Swede's drink vodka like alcoholics drink vodka, but that is not the point.

I also grew up in a "matching set" environment. The coffee cups matched the saucers matched the plates matched the dinnerware matched the placemates matched the glasses matched the friggin' wallpaper.

So it came as a bit of a surprise to me, whilst washing the dishes (coffee cups) this evening, when I realized that my coffee cup collections is, shall we say, a bit eclectic. How did I go from "matching sets" to "anything that will hold hot brown liquid"? I guess the answer is "life", so without further quotation marks, here are the Coffee Cup Chronicles.

McKee Dental Care: I got this when I moved to San Jose, CA, and went to a dentist's office that I found in the online Yellow Pages. I selected this dentist based on location. Turned out to be a fine operation. They gave this cup to me on my first visit, filled with all sorts of bric-a-brac, including a refigerator magnet that has since been lost. I am a refrigerator magnet junkie, so this is a disappointment. A welcome part of the family because it carries well, but it is a bit too small.

Coca Cola: My favorite of the six, but I inherited this from the wife, so not sure of the history. It is my favorite because it is the largest, has a nice design, and it is the largest. Not in the family long, but in the family strong.

Generic White: I don't recall exactly where Whitey came from, but I think it came from an apartment that my company leased in Houston. The apartment was furnished, including sundries, and somehow I ended up with the cup. It is inexplicable how this coffee cup, out of the dozens of coffee cups that I have owned, is still with me, but there you go. It does not carry well and is a bit to small, but it is part of the family now.

Maroon (?) QIP Team Member: Like all American corporations, when the Japanese started killing us in the 80's because they made good stuff, my corporation decided that we could make good stuff if only we had a Quality Improvement Program. Funny thing is we were already making good stuff. But don't let that stand in the way of progress. I remember having five meetings in a row, at least two hours each, in which we tried to agree on a team name. You can't make good stuff unless your Quality Improvement Program teams have names that all team members can agree on. This cup lives on in the family, but it's like the cousin that you have to be nice to only you wish that they would move to Paraguay. Too small.

The Sage School. My sister married a wicked rich guy, but to be fair, she married him before he was wicked rich, so it's not her fault. Anyway, their two kids (my neice and my nephew) went to this special school for rich kids and all I got was this coffee cup. A bit too small. It has to remain part of the family because my neice and my nephew are the coolest.

Penguins: Again, the details are hazy, but I remember I bought this at a chain drugstore when I had moved to a new location (Los Angeles?) and I was shopping for other things entirely. I think it is my oldest cup family member. And although Coca Cola is my favorite overall cup family member, this one wins as the nostalgic favorite. Even though I can't remember the time/place of purchase. And yes, it is too small.

So here I am, living large on a small island and drinking out of too-small coffee cups. Not the way I would have planned it, but family is family.

2009-06-09T05:39:00.000-07:00

I am going to start a new religion. Because all of the old religions piss me off. The old religions have caused, and continue to cause, too much confusion and strife in this world. I use the word "strife" because I am not sure what it means, but it sounds scary. And we should be scared.

The current upheaval in the Middle East is a good example, but it is far from the only example of religion related mayhem. The Christians kicked it old school back in the day. Scores of other sects have executed their vendettas on unsuspecting folk who were primarily interested in eating and getting laid.

It is not just the violent religions that ire me. Passive religions such as Buddhism are also a catalyst for my desire to create a new religious outlet. Sure, Buddhists don't advocate mass slaughter of infidels, but they still cling to archaic traditions. I am pretty sure that my future is not dictated by some six armed elephant that sits in the lotus position.

So, let's imagine a new religion. Rule #1: Don't kill anybody. Rule #2: Be polite. Rule #3: Don't worship any imagined deities. And of course, Rule #4: Look both ways before crossing the street.

I don't have a name for my new relgion. I was thinking "The New Religists", but that sounds like a rock band from the 60's. How about"The Nice but not Ancient"? Suggestions are welcomed.

2009-06-03T04:49:00.000-07:00

I Hate Cooking

I despise cooking. I abhor cooking. I word-stronger-than-abhor fucking cooking. That being said, I just whipped up some pretty good stuff.

As a Dragon Boat Festival gift I was given a baggie full of beef strips. And instructed to cook them and eat them, because they were a special offering from Pa. These are instructions that cannot be ignored. Cook and eat. Yes Drill Sargent.

I hemmed and hawwed and pretended they were too "frozen" or some-such, and that bought me a couple days. But I was hungry this evening and could not stand another dinner of microwave popcorn, so here is what I did. I put them on a stove, in a frying pan, and grilled them until they were basically one valence band away from carbon. And they were, if I must a say so myself, fantastical.

This stuff can be marketed. I could call them Carbonized Beef, but that's probably not going to grab the attention of the cognoscenti. So I am thinking Beef Chips. When we go national, our ads would be all about differentiating Beef Chips from other chip-like snacks. And, of course, explaining that we are not talking about manure based product.

In any event, delicious. But I digress from the primary point of this rant. I hate cooking.

Because, as wonderful as the Beef Chips (regular or Super-Size!) are, I now have to (a) dispose of the fat drippings and other disgusting stuff, (b) wash dishes, and (c) wash dishes. Which I guess, when it comes down to it, is the actual root cause of my rage. If I go out to eat, somebody else takes care of the dishes. If I have a bag of Mala Spicy potato chips, it is relatively little effort to dispose of the offending container. But now I gotta deal with the mess. Beef Chip, Inc. will most definitely have a well staffed dish washing department.

Aside from disposal and dishwashing issues, there are other things that bother me about cooking. To wit:

It is not an exact science. I don't have teaspoon or tablespoon measuring devices, and I certainly have no idea how much a dash is. Cook until brown? When meat is cooked, first it is not brown, then it is brown for a long time, then it is black. Which version of brown do I choose? Stir, chop, filet, knead, toss? Toss this.
Grocery shopping. You have to figure out what to buy (did I put oregano on my list?) and how much to buy (I can freeze this and use it on Saturday with the leftover noodles).
Letovers. I refuse to be the dork at work who is walking down the hall to take his Tupperware container of leftover goulash down to the communal microwave.
People who like to cook. They make like they are Michelangelo, creating some one-of-a-kind dish that is simply fabulous. And if you do not compliment them on their spectacular cooking acumen, then you are a douche. Now wait a minute, who is the real douche here...
Cooking shows. Please. Watching people cook on TV is probably the only thing I hate more than actually cooking. Bam!
Work. It is all work. Cooking is work. Dishwashing is work. Grocery shopping is work. Tolerating people who like to cook, and the cooking shows that they have spawned, is work. A certain genius. whose name is lost in the sands of time, invented a remedy for this work. It is called a restaurant.

So, dear readers, cook if you must. But I will be down at the local restaurant (look it up in the dictionary) ordering somebody else to cook for me and clean for me. I'll be having the Beef Chip special (Tuesday all you can eat!).

The Kids are Alright

2009-05-25T06:40:00.000-07:00

I was just sorting through my YouTube clips of songs from long ago. Specifically, I had to sort Amii Stewart (that's right - two i's, what of it?) and her classic "Knock on Wood". OK, so it is not going down in the pantheon of songs that music critics fawn over. But for all those who came of age between 1975 and 1985, tell me that you didn't dance to this song in some club, somewhere, with fog and lasers and flashing floors, Singapore Slings or some other douche-bag drink. doobage outside after, driving when it was not the best option, then some sort of carnal knowledge that ranged from "I'm gonna puke" to "I love you, no, really".

Thus my topic. This was a song of the times.

Sure, you can laugh and think "I am laughing at this person". But I guess you had to be there. And it's not like I was some disco king or something. Believe me, you don't want to see The White Retard dance. It's just that the song resonates for a person of my (advanced) age.

And now, The Kids listen to something that I do not understand. It sucks. It does not even remotely please me. I would rather listen to C-Span 3 than to listen to this crap. But...

I cannot disrespect the music. The Kids. It is what they have and what they listen to and what makes them feel the way I felt back in the day. No matter what my feelings are on the subject, I must refrain from disrepecting the music. The fact is that my opinion on this subject no longer matters. I am an old fuck from old times. The Kids are alright.

And if anybody from my generation want's to start the Disco Sucks argument, bring it on.

British "sports"

2009-05-18T04:49:00.000-07:00

I don't have anything againts the Brits. No really. Aside from the fact that they once tried to rule every piece of real estate on the planet, they are actually fairly nice folk.

But what up with football (soccer)? I am watching Man-U vs. Arsenal, and they have played for 90 minutes, and nobdody has scored. Hello? No wait. The game is over, nil-nil, and there is a big celebration. How can a sports team celebrate because the did not do anything? It is inexplicable.

2009-05-17T19:47:00.000-07:00

Well, don't I feel like a douche. The Lakers/Houston game is alread in the books. Guh. And the Lakers won. Double -guh-uh (I picked Houston). Now what do I do with the rest of my sick day? Drinking seems like a good option...

Basketball Diaries

2009-05-17T18:45:00.001-07:00

OK, here is where I rip off The Sports Guy. I gotta. Two game sevens on the same night? Only it is actually morning here and I called in "sick".

3rd period, 4:36, Hedo hits a three. I think Orlando is 15/13 on three's. I hate them.

3rd period, 3:49, Orland could throw the ball at the bench and it would bounce in.

3rd period, 3:20, Scalabrine hits a three. Cats living with dogs.

3rd period, 2:22, Orlando actually missed a shot.

Timeout. Can I just mention that these guys are freaks of nature? I mean the NBA in general. Weighing in a +250, they can jump 4 feet in the air and do a reverse dunk. I'm lucky to shoot a 45 on the back nine.

3rd period, 1:02, we missed four shots in a row, from under the basket. We are screwed.

Who is this Reddick guy? It's like his Mom told him to follow Ray Allen around, and he took it literally.

3rd period, 0:29, Hey Rondo, at least you hit the rim.

We are 15/17 from the line and losing by 7. Well, at least the refs got more money from the Celtics than Orlando. That may help.

btw, you should not trust anything I say about the NBA. I am a fan of the Celtics and the Lakers. Long story. I did not follow the NBA until I got back from the Middle East in 1984. So that's when I fell for Showtime. Then they got rid of Shaq, so screw them. And Phil Jackson? Gimme a break. There is only one reason he won so many titles, and we all know that reason.

Now it is impossible to not root for Pierce/KG/Allen. It is a crime that KG is not playing. And let me just say for the record, Pierce IS the Celtics.

also btw, Orlando is still shooting out of their ass. I really hate them.

cig break - this is hard to take.....

Ya know, it's gonna be Lebron-Orlando (matchup of the big markets) and Houston-Denver (just shoot me). Lebron, congratulations.

4th period, 9:47. Don't give me the "no gas left in the tank" argument. Orlando simply shot better. Out their ass. Like, what? I'm sure it's all thanks to SVG coaching.

4th period, 9:14, Ray Allen air-ball. Let's just stop the game now.

4th period, 8:41, Big Baby dunks but the shot requires 6 bounces before it goes in. Maybe I should watch some porn before the Lakers lose to the Rockets.

I think the Taiwanese sportscasting is easing the pain a bit. But I fantasize about what Marv and Reggie are adding to the travesty.

4th period, 6:49, down by 19. These are words that you never want to hear.

4th period, 6:26, Eddie House gets the free throw, after 27 rim bounces. Did the Celtic's miss that training session where you are supposed to shoot the ball in the basket?

4th period, 5:45, some big white guy just sunk a free throw for the Magic. Can you imagine that? Just for the record, horibble facial hair.

cig break - the NBA, where lung cancer happens!!

If this was the Bird/McHale/Chief era, I might entertain a comeback. But, unfortunately, this is the exhausted Pierce/enigmatic Ray-Ray/Scalabrine era. So no, there will not be a comeback.

4th period, 3:53, did I mention that I hate Hedo? And SVG? And the entire state of Florida? No? Ok, just checking.

4th period, 2:22, the white flag is out. Pardon me while I take a break. I have to get ready for the Kobe's to lose........

2009-05-15T10:28:00.000-07:00

When I was living in the USA I had a habit of watching the same TV shows (almost) every day when I returned from work: Around the Horn, PTI, The Daily Show, and the Colbert Report. Have a tough time doing that now. For quite some time I have followed Around the Horn and PTI in audio on the Interweb, but only recently have I discovered that The Daily Show and the Colbert Report are available as full video feeds. Well don't I feel like a douche.

As I caught up on what I missed, it became alarmingly obvious that Jon Stewart's guests almost always were more A-list than Stephen's. Not to knock Stephen. He is almost as funny as Jon. But just for kicks I decided that I should review and provide empirical evidence. Tale of the tape:

27-Apr-09

Jon: Christine Legarde, somebody from France

Stephen: Elizabeth Bintliff, two F's

Winner: Nobody.

28-Apr-09

Jon: Cliff May, some Right Wing dick

Stephen: The Decemberists

Winner: Stephen. Music always tops Right Wing dicks.

29-Apr-09Jon: Doris Kearns Goodwin, historian

Stephen: Daniel, well, Gross

Winner: Jon. Doris rocks.

30-Apr-09Jon: Hugh Jackman, actor

Stephen: Ethan Nadelmann, two N's

Winner: Jon. No explanation required.

4-May-09

Jon: Denis Leary, comedian

Stephen: J.J. Abrams

Winner: Jon. See, this is what I am talking about. JJ Abrams is a good guest, but then Jon gets Denis Leary. Stephen has no chance.

5-May-09Jon: Fareed Zakaria, with a Z

Stephen: Paul Rieckhoff, bald white guy, two F's

Jon. People with an Arabic name are more interesting than bald white guys.

6-May-09

Jon: George Stephanopoulos

Stephen: Laurie Garrett, two R's and two T's

Winner: Jon. No explanation required. Except that I had to Google George's name to spell it correctly.

7-May-09

Jon: Ken Salazar, Secretary of the Interior

Stephen: Mitchell Joachim, some Left Wing nut

Winner: Jon. Mitchell was pretty cool though. Needs a haircut.

11-May-09Jon: Frank Partnoy, author

Stephen: Jeff Daniels, actor

Winner: Stephen. How did he pull this off?

12-May-09

Jon: Tom Hanks, actor

Stephen: Ron Howard, Opie

Winner: Jon. OK, I'm Stephen, and I book Opie. How can I lose? The only way I can lose is if Jon books Tom Hanks. F%#k.

13-May-09

Jon: Husain Haqqani, somebody from Pakistan

Stephen: Michael Pollan, food guy

Winner: Jon. Pakistan is more current. And I hate it when people try to become celebrities by talking about food.

14-May-09

Jon: Lisa P. Jackson, Head of the EPA

Stephen: Cat Stevens

Winner: Stephen. I always wondered about Cat but this cleared things up. Not really a bad dude, just a bit misguided.

So Jon 8, Stephen 3, Nobody 1. Maybe not the slam that I anticipated, but I think Jon is definitely fucking with Stephen.

2009-05-14T09:53:00.000-07:00

Here is where all that is worthy begins....

I took this picture because the 'rents wanted some documentation of my living quarters. You know, in case I am a spy for the CIA or something. Apparently I am not. The plaid kinda gives it away. I am just an engineer that is living abroad and loving every minute of it.

In any event, I hope to post some stuff that is insightful, mind-expanding, alternative, interesting, jiggy-baby. It will probably just be more blog crap. Oh well.....

A lot of this depends on how I interact with blogger/blogspot/whatever. So far, I am not amused.