Mythbusters, the early years…

Dr. Bunsen Honeydew, Beaker
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Not mine but oh so worthy of further net awareness.  Total… epic… win!


My Pleasure to Connect You

At my work I often am calling into hotel switchboards.  Recently there has been a phrase that turns up more and more in the upscale hotels.  I ask to be connected to an extension and the operator replies, “My pleasure to connect you.”

This disturbs me.  Seriously.

First, I know it is a false statement.  I know no matter how much cheer they force they’re just doing their job, clocking their time before they go home.  So I know full well there’s no pleasure derived from that act.

Secondly, what sick person thinks it is appropriate to have men and women utter to complete strangers that they are deriving pleasure from such an activity.  Look, there are a few things which give me pleasure and outside of the act of eating a really delicious meal every single one of them is highly intimate.  It is embarrassing and not a little rude for a complete stranger to infer that any action on my part is giving them pleasure.  Especially since I know I didn’t just serve them food.  That implies I’m being intimate with them.

Seriously, what sick person started this perverted trend?  They need to be beaten…  wait, no, they’ll like that too much.  They need to be refrained from being beaten!

Obama, Nobel Peace Prize, Racism

Obama, the Nobel Peace Prize and Racism.  The trifecta!  But this is not the normal rant on the matter.

Do I think Obama should have gotten the Nobel Peace prize?  No.  But he is not to blame for their choice.  They chose him for clearly political reasons because, honestly, he hasn’t done anything to deserve it.  No matter what your political leaning that is evident.  To a right-winger he has done active harm to America.  To the leftist none of his proposed policies have gone through.  So they clearly chose him for other reasons; namely an atta boy for America for swinging back to the left.  Or… whatever.

But this is going to cause problems in the future.  Why?  Because with all the hype built up around his campaign, his presidency and now the prize there is no way he can live up to the totality of it.  By any measure he is going to fail.

The problem, however, is going to come next time there is a Black presidential candidate.  Obama’s mediocrity is going to be the measure of that man or woman’s potential.  Regardless of their actual potential they will be forever tainted solely because of their race.

The troubling part is can people really call it racism?  Yes, they are going to be pre-judging those people base on race.  However, since Obama’s race was made such a large issue this time around can anyone really help not drawing that conclusion the next time around?

The Nobel commitee did him no favors playing their little political games.  They have done more harm than good.  Of course, if anyone had any sense they would stop paying attention to anything the Nobel commitee does these days.  Why?  1 name, 1 year.

Yasser Arafat, 1994.

Where the Fuck Are You?

“Where the fuck are you?” I had yelled at my father.  I don’t recall how the conversation started nor the twists and turns it got to that point.  I just know that I was standing in an Italian restaurant, one of three side-by-side in a strip mall, yelling at my father, making a scene.

Except that’s not true.  The last time I spoke with my father was months ago.  We, along with my wife, my mom and a friend of my parents, were having a discussion about the troubles my wife and I are having purchasing a house.  Shortly after that we had said our good byes as my parents were heading back home to Arizona.  A few weeks later my father had died.

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