Archive for the Smiley Face Category
MUNCIE – US Surgeon General Regina Benjamin issued a statement Thursday advocating mothers breast-feed their children.
“I want to see more breasts out there,” Benjamin said. “I want to see them in supermarkets. I want to see them in movie theaters. I want to see them at fast food restaurants. Wherever I look, I want to see nothing but breasts,” Benjamin concluded.
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Ted, some guy walking past on his way to nowhere important.
MUNCIE – Three monks and one pastor were arrested at the Eleftherios Venizelos airport in Athens, Greece after security personnel discovered the remains of Eleni Vathiadou, a former nun, in their luggage as they tried to board a flight to Cyprus.
The four suspects provided Greek authorities with conflicting explanations.
“I was holding that bag for a friend,” said Father Spiro Papastavros.
“Look man, those bones are intended for my own personal use only,” said Father Gus Poulos. “I wasn’t going to sell them.”
“My sister sent them to me,” claimed Father Nicholas Dimos.
“In my defense, she was delicious,” said Pastor Ted Schultz.
Last Saturday my wife and I ate at Ming Tu’s – a restaurant located at 1158 “L” Street in Downtown Sacramento. Ming Tu’s serves Asian” inspired” food in a casual setting.
Many people have eaten at Ming Tu’s. Some of them have written reviews that can be found at http://www.yelp.com/biz/ming-tus-asian-diner-sacramento. For example, Karina of Elk Grove writes:
“I’ve been here twice – with coworkers and with friends. The food is definitely an Americanized version of Chinese food, but far better than Panda Express. Love their Mongolian beef over brown rice.”
Moo N of Sacramento writes:
“I work a couple of blocks from here so I have had opportunity to eat here often. Each time I have eaten here, I have been quite happy. The teriyaki chicken with rice is my fave and I love the fried rice too! I love rice so if you do too you should definitely partake ”
My dining experience was a little different from Katrina’s and Moo’s. My meal was not as good as theirs. So this is going to be a negative restaurant review.
Over the years I’ve written plenty of restaurant reviews, may of them negative, and when I write a negative review I spend a lot of time describing what I ate and how it was served. Then I complain a lot.
I feel this is a special case. The usual descriptions of the food and service and the usual complaining just wouldn’t be enough to properly express how I feel about this dining experience. So I’m not going to describe the food or the service. I’m not going to make fun of the owner’s funny accent. I am not going to mock the handicapped busboy. Instead, I will simply describe what I did after I left Ming Tu’s.
After I paid the bill and my wife and I left the restaurant, I immediately walked to a nearby church and prayed that God would reach down with His mighty hand and, with a fist of divine fury, smite Ming Tu’s, crushing it down to the bedrock, destroying it utterly.
I know what you are thinking. You think I over reacted. You are thinking: “Aw, come on, Paul. The meal couldn’t have been so bad that you would call upon the Creator of the Universe to smite those responsible. “
If you are thinking this, you are wrong. You weren’t there. You didn’t pay good money for really bad Chinese food. It was so bad that I felt, and still feel, within my rights as a God fearing Christian to call upon the power of Almighty God to send down destruction upon Ming Tu’s and punish all those responsible for my mediocre dining experience.
Now you are thinking: “Okay, Paul, let’s assume for the sake of argument that the meal you were served wasn’t very good. Is that sufficient reason for calling for divine retribution? Isn’t being served a bad meal at a restaurant a trivial reason for calling upon the divine power of God Almighty to smite those who displeased you?”
Not at all. And if you think that, then you probably are not a Christian.
Or you might be a Socialist.
A Socialist Atheist, that’s what you are, if you think there is anything wrong with me asking God to smite anyone I don’t like or destroy any business that has provided less than acceptable service.
Every day, ordinary people from all walks of life call upon the power of the Lord to avenge them – often for seemingly trivial reasons. My own Aunt reads the Bible every day and goes to church every Sunday – and every single day she prays to Baby Jesus that her neighbor die of a heart attack.
Her neighbor is a liberal who plays that jazz music much too loud. And he voted for Obama. Who is a secret Muslim.
But I digress. My point is that it is perfectly okay to call upon the power of God to right any wrong, no matter how trivial the wrong may appear. The Bible shows us that God responds in dramatic ways to correct what seem to be trivial wrongs.
For example, in 2 Kings 23-25, the prophet Elisha, who had a bald head, cast a “curse unto God” at a bunch of young boys who were making fun of Elisha’s bald head. Now, you non-Christian, socialist liberal secret Muslims will say that what those kids did was no big deal. Well, God didn’t think so. In response to Elisha’s curse, God sent two female bears to kill forty-two of those boys.
So Elisha called upon the divine power of the Creator of the Universe to punish a bunch of boys who made fun of him. I am calling upon that same power to smite a restaurant that served me a lousy meal. I honestly don’t see the difference. I fully expect to see a big hole in the ground where Ming Tu’s used to be when I next drive or walk by that place.
I’ll let you know if it happens.
I have been flamed (but not defamed, as you will see). Over at the the Blunt Instrument, one of my favorite blogs, a gentleman who goes by the name of Greybeard said:
Mr Boylan: you Sir, are a vulgarian and a snob.
Now, isn’t that the nicest way of calling someone a jerk you have ever seen? It is beyond cool. The gentility and elegance of that insult lifts it beyond cool to the rarely achieved level of cugat (as in “that is soooo cugat, dude!”).
First, before I begin, I just want to say that, as I type this, I am listening to Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance and loving it.
I haven’t decided yet if the images she crafts are parody and/or satire. However, even if her visual marketing is a bit repulsive, her music is unexpectedly very good.
Second, I want to mention Sarah Palin.
Her mere mention in this blog boosts my traffic tremendously. Palin is at the heart of many google searches that lead the hapless, and unsuspecting, Internet surfer to this page – second only to searches for smiley faces.
Don’t ask me why, but thousands upon thousands of you out there access this blog using terms like “smiley,” “smiley face,” “smily face,” “evil smiley” and “evil smiley face.” If you are reading this, then the odds are you got here looking for an evil smiley face.
As for you who out there who found my page using google searches centering on Sarah Palin – and there are more of you every day – please take my word for it that you won’t find any nude pictures of Palin here.
Nor will you find any photos or discussions or any jokes even remotely related to any of the following apparently popular search terms:
Sarah Palin feet
Sarah Palin feets
Sarah Palin shoes
Sarah Palin Girl Scout
Sarah Palin Girl Scout Hat
Sarah Palin bullet bra
Sarah Palin donkey
Sarah Palin naughty nurse
Sarah Palin dog collar
Sarah Palin smoking
Sarah Palin smoking cigarettes
Sarah Palin cheerleader
Sarah Palin cheer leader
Sarah Palin dominatrix
Sarah Palin dominetrix
Sarah Palin dominutrix
Sarah Palin Navajo sweat lodge
Sarah Palin sweet lodge
Sarah Palin colonoscopy
Sarah Palin nasal passage
Sarah Palin sexy
Sarah Palin sexy cyborg
These are not all of the search terms related to Sarah Palin that have lead people to this blog, but they are some of the most troubling ones.
Who are you people? Do you live anywhere near me? Because if you do, I am moving the hell away. ”Sarah Palin nasal passage?” “Sarah Palin sexy cyborg?” What on earth is going on? Are you out of your piggy little minds?
Look, let’s cut to the chase: if photos of anything even remotely related to any of those search terms existed, then I would have posted them. But there aren’t any – at least not yet. I fully expect that, once her political star sinks, as it surely will, she will attempt to cash in on her name and reignite her celebrity by “accidentally” posting a sex tape or nude pics the way Carrie Prejean did.
The lure of easy money is the greatest weakness from which white trash suffers.
I am utterly convinced that the continuing revelations about Carrie Prejean’s multiple sex tapes (self-shot) and porno pics are part of a liberal conspiracy to discredit attractive but stupid right wing ultra Christian women who hate homosexuals.
But I digress. I am really here to talk about Stargate Universe. I am a new participant on a blog hosted by the Brisbane Times and authored by John Birmingham, author of Without Warning and the Axis of Time series – all of which I enjoyed, have reread and highly recommend.
John’s blog is called The Geek and you can find it by going here. The Geek is devoted to issues designed to appeal to everyone’s inner nerd – i.e., questions centering on computers, technology and, lately, science fiction. If you want to see what the Geek is all about, just sample the sparkling discussion by clicking here.
Most recently in the Geek John has expressed his appreciation for Stargate Universe, a new series on the SyFi cable network. Thus far I’ve based my criticism on the show’s lack of sexy space chicks.
But John’s recent opinion, the comments from some of his regular visitors, and the undeniable fact that the last SG-U episode was really very good, has forced me to get serious and explain why I am critical of the show. What follows expands on the comment I left at the Geek.
To better explain why I haven’t liked SG-U until this last episode requires a short history of popular science fiction. In the beginning, science fiction was part of “high culture,” written by amazingly proficient writers like Mary Shelley, Jules Verne, Edwin Abbott Abbott and H.G. Wells (“the Early Masters”).
It wasn’t even called science fiction; it was, instead, referred to as “scientific romance.” Then, in the late 1920’s in New York City, science fiction crept into pulp magazines and became popularized. Lots of people read it, but, as literature, it was rubbish and even the best SF writers were, compared with the Early Masters, uneducated amateur hacks. But, like circus geeks who dream of playing Carnegie Hall, these pulp fiction hacks dreamed of critical recognition.
This desire for critical recognition for science fiction started a slow climb towards legitimacy – which required writers to display proficiency as well as imagination. Harlan Ellison was and still is part of this effort.
Unlike most science fiction writers of his time, Ellison began his career writing in the mainstream. In the 1950’s he wrote about youth gangs. In the 1960’s he wrote erotica. In the 1960’s he began selling scripts for science fiction television programs like Star Trek and The Outer Limits. These scripts were remarkably well written (Star Trek – The City on the Edge of Forever; The Outer Limits – Demon With the Glass Hand) and stood out as perhaps the best episodes of those series, garnering legitimate critical acclaim.
In the 1970’s Ellison became one of the leaders in the movement to legitimize science fiction. His own stories injected more mature themes into the genre – resulting in critical and commercial success. His short story A Boy and His Dog – culminating with the hero and his pet eating the heroine – was produced as a movie.
Ellison’s efforts to improve science fiction were inventive. Way before the rest of the world became aware how language colors perception, Ellison attempted to remove the stigma associated with science fiction by insisting I be referred to only as “speculative fiction.”
Ellison was part of a movement that raised the bar on what to expect from science fiction. These efforts brought big benefits: over the years that followed, Sci Fi writers slowly died out and have been replaced by writers who incidentally employ science fiction concepts and constructs. This is not a trivial change. Writers today – such as John Birmingham – are writers first, serious about the craft of writing. Science fiction concepts and constructs are devices used to help tell the story.
Before the reform movement described above, it used to be the other way around: science fiction concepts and constructs took precedent over story. For example, more often than not, any given science fiction story focused on space ships, ray guns and, yes, space chicks.
The story itself was incidental to these factors. So now we come to Stargate Universe. This new program results from the desire to legitimize science fiction and focus on story and not on ray guns or space chicks.
That is SG-U’s strength, but it is also its weakness, because, in their efforts to inject real drama into science fiction, the SG-U writers and producers have forgotten who their audience is.
There is nothing wrong with well-written drama. What I saw last night on SG-U wasn’t melodramatic and wasn’t soap opera. It was well written, well directed drama. But those responsible for SG-U have forgotten that guys who grew up thrilled by space chicks and space battles make up SG-U’s audience.
Even the recent reinvention of Battlestar Galactica sprinkled amazing drama with the occasional amazing space battle – AND it included the occasional space chick.
That’s what kept us watching our television screens while really well written, well acted and well-directed drama took place.
Bertolt Brecht believed that literature and art should educate the viewer. I believe that SG-U’s writers and producers are trying to educate the fan boys into appreciating drama. Or they have decided that BSG did the educating and now was the time to make the final transition from pop culture back to high culture. Either way, those responsible for SG-U were and are wrong. The fan boys still want space battles and space chicks. Drama is fine – especially if it is well written – but please remember who your audience is. BSG succeeded because it emphasized story but never became dull. You can do it, too.
As some of you may have noticed, this column has been missing from you local newspaper for the last few months. Let me tell you why.
I’ve spent my time away trying to put my life in perspective. I am at that age when the days ahead are fated to be fewer than the days behind.
Younger men don’t worry about time running out. Boys are always blind to their own mortality and, as a consequence, they rarely think ahead. Deep down, young men just don’t believe they are ever going to die, and so they live from day to day, moment to moment. They drive fast, live fast, and – like my son – waste huge amounts of time playing video games instead of looking for a job.
But the older a man get, the more he begins to see the world differently. He tends to begin slowing down when he drives because he knows how easy and suddenly it can all end. And, more often than not, he begins leaving the turn signal on.
And even if he remembers to turn the turn signal off, he cannot help but realize his time on this earth is limited. He begins to see himself as Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, trapped in the Wicked Witch’s castle as the sands within the big hourglass slowly run out.
Okay, not exactly like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. Older men don’t see themselves as teenage girls. Some may, but I truly believe that most do not. I am not saying there is anything wrong with it. If a guy wants to be a teenage girl from Kansas that’s his business. But, if so, I certainly hope he keeps it to himself. Don’t ask, don’t tell. That’s my motto when it comes to such things.
I admit I am being a bit selfish in not wanting to hear about any Dorothy fantasies, but I have enough problems dealing with a sudden sense of encroaching mortality to manage the social awkwardness that would surely follow if any guy I know tells me in confidence that he wishes he was a girl from Kansas who befriended a talking scare crow, a lion and a tin woodsman, whatever that is. I mean, really, what IS a tin woodsman? Ever see one? Not me.
But I digress. The point is that the older a man gets, the more he sees the days of his life as sands running through an hourglass. And that is what happened to me.
So as I enter the last phase of my time on this planet, I spent some of that time reevaluating how I spend my time. After careful reflection, I concluded I use my time poorly – especially the time I spend writing.
Most of what I write is, in all honesty, kind of silly. For example, just look at my most recent article about homosexuals. Who really cares which homosexuals I favor and which ones I disapprove of – like that awful Rosie O’Donnell? I mean, seriously, Rosie O’Donnell’s celebrity and resulting wealth is proof that there is something fundamentally wrong with the universe.
Rosie O’Donnell’s mere existence causes me to ask questions I never, ever asked before. Every time I see or hear Rosie O’Donnell I ask myself “what kind of a God would shape reality to include Rosie O’Donnell? Can a truly loving God do such a thing? And if so, why? Why would the Ruler of the Universe say to himself “I, the Creator of Everything, the Prime Mover, have decided to begin a chain of events that will result in the rise of a really, really annoying lesbian who will, in addition to being fat will also be a slob, and yea, verily, she will have her own talk show.”
I just can’t accept that God would do such a thing. The very concept of Rosie O’Donnell has upset me so much that, out of spiritual desperation, I consulted with my priest, Father Stavros. I asked him “Father, if God loves us so, why did God send Rosie O’Donnell to live among us?”
Father Stavros is a wise, old man with a long beard and a funny hat. Well, it looks funny if you aren’t Greek Orthodox. To us, it looks fine. But, to those of different faiths, the hats Greek priests wear can look sort of weird and their names can be difficult to pronounce. I knew a priest named Father Papahartogeorgoudisfylakakopoulos. I felt bad for the guy.
Well, Father Stavros (who’s last name is thankfully easy to pronounce) listened to me and then said “maybe God put Rosie O’Donnell on earth to test the faithful.”
But I digress. The point I am trying to make is that I have spent the last few months reevaluating my life, and have decided that, if I am going to continue writing this column, I need to concentrate on more important things. Our world and our nation are facing dark times. I want to make a difference.
So get ready, People of Earth, for the greatest and most meaningful series of articles you have ever experienced.
I will begin by exploring the hidden wonders and important parables for our times revealed through professional Mexican wrestling.