Animal-Human Hybrids Spark Controversy?

Ok, that was the headline in National Geographic, but if you read the article...sigh...scientists just don't get it, do they?

When I first read the headline, my initial reaction was, naturally, "All RIGHT! Finally!" But if you scroll down a little you see that they combined human cells with rabbit cells, and then destroyed them to harvest stem cells.

Booooorrringggg!!! Are you kidding me? Where's the Dr. Moreau stuff? I'm not interested in medical advances. When are we going to have some kid running around with antlers and flippers? Yeah, yeah, yeah, cure for all of the....yeah, fine. Wake me when they put together some dude with gills. Or a giraffe with opposable thumbs, and a 3-piece suit. Either or - I'm easy.

Perspective

Well, our president is now trying to sell his Social Security plan to black people. He says that the current system is not fair to blacks because they don't live as long as white people, and therefore don't get as much back in benefits.

I guess that's where he loses me on this issue. See, I think what's not fair is that THEY DON'T LIVE AS LONG AS WHITE PEOPLE. How about we try and solve that problem? Then, social security will be fair.

It sort of goes like this:

Bush: My fellow African-Americans. (pause for laughter.) Since you're gonna die soon anyway, why should you worry your pretty heads about all these taxes?

Me: But Mr. President, WHY are black people dying sooner than white people? And shouldn't we be doing something about it?

Bush: Uhhh...well...uhhh...my tax plan is...uhhh....hm.

Cheney: Mr. President, if I may?

Bush: JESUS, don't do that! I didn't see you there. You know you scare the hell out of me.

Cheney: I'm sorry, Mr. President. In answer to your question, sir, if any group of Americans chooses to decrease their lifespan voluntarily, we will not interfere. We're the Republicans - we get government off your backs.

Me: So, you support assisted suicide, then?

Cheney: Ahh, well...uh...

Bush: Dick, do like me. "Lalalalala! Brrrrrr! Not LISTening!!!"

-fin-

I wonder things.

• Has there ever been a war that started over a specific smell? Who started that war? Maybe more importantly, what was the smell?
  
• Who is the most famous person ever to jack off an owl? (And don't say "nobody" because by this point we both know that's not true.) Would I have heard of him/her? Maybe the Sultan of Brunei? I wonder if it's someone at a Jimmy Stewart sort of level? Or maybe more of an Esai Morales?
  
• Has anyone ever wished upon a star to be hit right in the balls with a carrot in the next ten seconds? How about at a wishing well?
  
• How many people in history have decided to commit suicide by stripping down naked, standing in front of a cannon, putting their genitals into the barrel of the cannon, and having a trusted friend light the fuse? And why so needlessly complex?
  
• Has there ever been a Wild West gunfight -- you know, a couple of cowboys with six shooters -- as a result of an argument about which was real, elves or fairies?
  
• Has anyone ever stuck their finger so far up their nose that, as a result, they became a born again Christian?
  
• Is there such a thing as bigfoot? And if so, has anyone made love to one? If there really is a bigfoot, somebody probably banged one, or they at least made out. Maybe some over the shirt action. And they maybe went steady. Could be somebody was even dumped by a bigfoot. How long did they wait to start dating again?

This is what happens when it snows real hard and you're trapped in the house for a while.

Finally!

Good news, everybody. The White House is expected to up the bounty on Osama bin Laden's head. It's going up to $50 million.

Thank God, because who the hell was going to stick their neck out for $25 million? I wipe my butt with that kind of money.

Why the discrimination?

You always hear different cultures described as having a "rich oral tradition."

How come you never hear about a "rich anal tradition"?

I guess people just don't like their myths and legends to be transmitted rectally. And I guess I don't disagree.

A lovely sentiment from Bush

Here's a quote from W in his innaugural address:

"We will encourage reform in other governments by making clear that success in our relations will require the decent treatment of their own people."

I think what he's trying to tell other countries is, "Either you be nice to your people, or we will be forced to bomb the living shit out of them."

At least my heat (sort of) works

The heating in my building is fantastic under all circumstances but one.

We live upstairs from a Mexican restaurant run by Chinese people. (I don't get that, either). Anyway, these people are very Chinese. English is not only not their first language, it's not even their second language yet.

Why does that matter? An excellent question. I wish I could say for sure. As I understand it, it's like this: There is a switch on the wall, somewhere in their territory. That switch shuts off my heat.

It is also my understanding that there's a sign near that switch saying something to the effect of, "Please don't touch this, ever, ever, ever."

Sign or no, sometimes we have no heat for a little while, until I call my landlord and say something like, "Hey, Joe? Yeah, I'd like there to be a bigger difference between my apartment and the outdoors."

Several questions:

1. Is the sign in Chinese? Which dialect? I'm just saying, the message isn't 100% getting through.
2. Is there really a sign at all? I think I might have made that up out of sheer optimism along the lines of, "If there is a switch that could accidentally give me hypothermia, surely someone would post a sign."
3. Why would you make this switch in the first place? And even if it has some purpose, why so easy to access? Shouldn't there be 2 sets of keys that have to be turned simultaneously or something? Why make it look like every other switch, so you have to go, "Ok, this one's for the hallway light, this one's the kitchen, and this one freezes everyone to death."
4. This is maybe the most important question. Why was the burrito restaurant left in charge of such a switch? Because it seems like the decision to cut off the heat would be better left with, uh, no one. This isn't a nuclear boiler. It's fine. Let's just leave it on, 'kay?

Now, to the landlord's credit, the heat gets turned back on almost right away. The problem-solving seems to go like, "Well, if they turn it off, we'll turn it back on!"

Not coincidentally, this is also his response when our hallway lights burn out twice a month. Yes, I appreciate him replacing the bulbs in a timely fashion. I just think he might do well to ask, "Say, why are those bulbs burning out so quickly?" And I'd love him to ask that question, you know, before I die in an electrical fire.

But hey, you get what you get. That's called "compromise," people.

Plug like the wind...

Hey, folks. Today, I just want to remind you that you should be stopping by NO HITTING, my weekly comedy show. It's tonight, Thursday, January 20th at 8pm. If you click that link, you can get all the info you'll need to get there.

Our lineup tonight is one of our best yet. While Becky Donohue is performing in Vegas, I'll be hosting with Lubka Bubkova (who, in a certain light, looks suspiciously like Margaret Dodge). We've got Bryan Tucker, Tom McCaffrey, Matt Goldich, Jeff Kreisler, and Catie Lazarus. Plus, we're having a 1-minute preview from Chuck Funk. Now that, my friends, is a show.

And on top of all that, it's only $3, and the drinks are cheap.

Now, you should feel just terrible. Only paying 3 bucks for that lineup? Really, you're no better than a mugger on the street. So, on your knees and repeat after me:

Jeff Mac, I am not worthy to receive these awesome comics. But only say the word, and I will be amused.*

*That's as close to religious as I'm likely to get.

Shoddy Antichristing

During the week between Christmas and New Year's Eve, the History Channel showed all of their End-of-the-World-Disaster shows. I guess the thinking is that during that season, the total destruction of the Earth doesn't sound so bad. At that point, I'm usually rooting for it. And by the way I spend money in December, I'm actually sort of counting on it. Like, as a financial plan (i.e. "Sure I can buy this iPod. When the asteroid hits, I won't even have to worry about my monthly minimum payment.")

Anyway, several of these shows talked about the Antichrist and his role in the impending Armageddon. And by the way he is described, you almost immediately realize that he doesn't have a freaking chance.

POOR IMAGE MANAGEMENT

First of all, he's described as having 5 heads. Ok, I'm not too religious so maybe I don't know all the ins and outs of this process, but who's not going to see that guy coming? I think even the most secular of us would at least have a, "Hold on a second, there's something funny about that fella," moment with this thing.

Are there really going to be people saying, "Hey, hey, hey, let's just hear the Beast out, ok? That first head has some really interesting ideas about health care. And the third head is hilarious. Plus, I think that fifth head is into me, so don't embarrass me."

WEAK SYNERGY WITH THE C.O.S.

Ok, another problem - the Church of Satan doesn't worship the Antichrist. (I looked them up when I found out that Sammy Davis Jr. used to be a member. Seriously.) What the hell is going on? You're the devil and you can't get the Church of Satan behind you? That's just sloppy Antichristing. I think he should tell them to get onboard or else take that S-word off their letterhead, mugs, t-shirts, temp tatoos, velvet cloaks, etc.

TERRIBLE NAME-BRANDING

That name - Antichrist. You're defining yourself as not-the-other-guy, and we all know how that sort of thing works out (John Kerry, I'm looking at you, buddy). You have no identity, and you're giving your opponent free advertising every time someone says your name. Terrible marketing. Do you think that Blimpie's would ever call itself The AntiSubway? Not on your life, Sally. (Sally?)

Let's say that I was the Antichrist. I'd fix all of this stuff right away. I don't even know how you get that sort of a gig. Probably, you have to know somebody or be related to Satan or something. All I'm saying is that I think they could do worse than me. Nobody would see me coming, that's for sure. And I could certainly use the money.

So, during my term as Antichrist (if it even happens), I'd just call myself Jeff Mac. And I'd start referring to Jesus as the "AntiJeffMac."

Boy, that would show them.

Newsflash: Old Movies Sorta Blow

For some people old movies are a religion, but they usually just bore the crap out of me (the movies, not the people. Ok, maybe both.) To me, these films seem to be about a bunch of well dressed people who go around drinking and smoking at each other.

And eventually, someone will grab some unsuspecting woman by the shoulders and make out with her, real hard, for two or three seconds. One of those two people will cry and ask to be left alone. Then somebody will get socked in the jaw. And ultimately folks will drink and smoke at each other some more.

Somewhere in here, a bartender will wipe down the bar and say, "G'wan, get outta here!" And someone will refer to someone of similar age as "kid." That person will then smoke at the "kid" while explaining the meaning of life.

Oh, and people stand in the rain and yell at each other a lot. Old movie people are forever standing in the pouring rain. Go home, yell at each other indoors. There's an awning 3 feet away. I know, I get it, you're very passionate. I could tell by the yelling. Fine. Just go inside. (If it's any incentive, I heard there's a whole pack of cigarettes inside your house, just waiting to be smoked at somebody.)

Maybe these are great films, and I'm just not getting it. When I hear someone tell me how great old movies are, I privately think they just like hats.

Making the Case for Zombies

I just saw Dawn of the Dead, and to be honest, it made me feel a little pensive. Every time I see an apocalyptic world destruction film like this, it really drives home all the things that I'll probably never get to do. For example:

• Kill something with a sword (or ax, machete, what have you...). I'm not exactly itching to do it, but now that I've seen it done, I imagine there's a certain satisfaction there.
• Get in really great shape. Without zombies, where's the incentive? Daily zombie attacks will put personal trainers right out of business, mark my words.
• Weld something. I never get to do this, EVER.
• Construct a rudimentary snowplow/catapult/flamethrower, etc. out of stuff you find at the mall. Who's going to stop you when there's zombies?

Plus, the zombie-killing lifestyle seems so exciting. Make your own hours. Be your own boss. Live rent-free. There are so many positives, and just a couple of negatives (i.e. the zombies attacking you, lack of food/water, etc.).

I really do get a little wistful when I see these movies. At some point during the film, I invariably think, "Yeah, running for your life from brain eating zombies would suck. But is it really worse than having a job?" I think not.

People seem to trust me...

Don't make the same mistake. Honestly, I'm not that nice.

Well, I am that nice sometimes, and it's almost always a source of some embarrassment. Like when dads trust me with their daughters. What a slap that is.

"Uh, yeah, Jeff, listen. My nymphomaniac, lingerie model daughter just called me. She's just flying on Ecstasy, she's out of her mind. Raving about how she's going to bang the first guy she sees. Jeff...Talk to her for me. Would you mind?"

How much less of a man can you be at that point?

But there's one type of trust I have NO idea how I have earned. I don't know what it is about me, but people tell me things. Private things. Personal things. The kinds of things you don't tell anyone. Ever. Often within minutes of meeting me. I don't know how many times I've heard someone preface something with, "I've never told anyone this before, but..." And five seconds later, I'm hearing about alcoholic this, sexual dysfunction that, etc. It happens all the time.

And I'm telling these things, people. Like, immediately. I don't know where anybody got the idea that their secret was safe with me. It wasn't. It still isn't. I never said that I wasn't going to tell. They don't even ask me not to tell. They just assume I won't. (Then again, even if they did ask, I'd lie and say, "No, of course not! Who am I going to tell?")

I think they sense that I'm a good listener. Yeah, that's me making sure I get all the details of your story.

I'm not saying that I'm going to tell just anybody any secret. I'm not a total prick. It's got to be a situation where I know that it won't get back to you that I told. I mean, as long as I'm having fun, why get you all upset?
And I'm always very sure to tell them that they are never, ever to reveal to anyone that I'm the one who told them.

But I'm totally telling.

Well, well, well. Look who's in the blog-o-sphere.

As my very first blog entry, why not begin with this challenge to my "manhood".

I was at a party last night where I ended up playing Hoopla -- a combination of Pictionary, Charades, etc. -- with a room full of women. I was the only man there. No, no. Please don't be jealous. We're men of the world, aren't we? Petty jealously doesn't suit us.

There came a moment where one of the ladies had to get the rest of us to guess, "The Heisman Trophy," without using those words. She said, and I quote:

"Yeah, I'm going to pass. I figure, it's all women, and you..."

This was 3 hours after I had met her. How did she know (he asked, hoping you don't know him well enough to know exactly how she knew)?

This just furthers my theory that when you've been dating a woman for long enough, you are given a sort of "honorary vagina." I've been with my girlfriend for about 7 and a half years, and finally I've got one. And I wear it on my sleeve, proudly.

I wear a vagina on my sleeve.