Monday, September 28, 2009

Andrew's Rants.

I WANT MY NICKELS BACK

When I was a child in the early years of Grade School I remember a lot of news that was delivered to us in a weekly circular called a Weekly Reader. It is what probably made me the news junkie that I am today. In fact I keep the Drudge Report as my homepage on my Internet browser. I can’t turn the fool thing on without
spending a half hour reading the current headlines and clipping the interesting ones to folders on my jump drive to read later in depth. My Weekly reader had up to date stories about President Nixon when he went to China. It was even worded so all of us little screaming idiots in the first grade could understand how important it was for us as Americans to open up new trade avenues so that we would have even more poorly made cheap plastic junk products to buy from yet one more third world underdeveloped country. I remember reading all about the Alaskan pipeline and how it was going to solve the energy crises especially the gas crunch. This was back when there was actually gas rationing and you couldn’t take vacations because of the shortage and people waited hours in line in California to buy gas. This pipeline was supposed to be a modern engineering miracle. It was going to pump billions of barrels of oil down south to the refineries so that America would be freed of its dependence on foreign oil. Each week we would see pictures of this massive pipeline traveling through the wilderness and occasionally there would be the obligatory shot of a polar bear to reassure us that the local wild life was not being harmed by the project. We were all so excited. The news each night went on and on about the gas crunch and how there was no end in sight. We were taught that the oil would run out in just 20 years at the present rate of consumption. Looking back now more than 20 years later I realize it was just supply and demand economics and we the consumer paid the price of international politics shaking hands with the big oil companies.

But back to this pipeline in Alaska. Here we were reading about it each week in our Weekly Reader and watching on TV as various talking heads would expound on their views about how it was going to solve America’s dependency on foreign crude. We were encouraged to collect nickels in a jar and bring them to school so that they could be sent to help fund the pipeline project. That’s right we little first graders were hit up for our candy money and meager allowances to help pay for the Alaskan pipe line. I remember being all worked up to do my part after the pep talk from the Principal in our classroom. I went home and asked my mom for some nickels so I could help America be a great country free from the scourge of foreign oil. She put me to work in the back yard pulling dandelions. We had a bumper crop that year and she told me that for each 50 dandelions I pulled up I would get a nickel. She handed me a fork and showed me how she wanted it done by digging the fork into the ground just below the stem right into the roots and prying upwards so that the roots were yanked up as well, this was to prevent the weed from growing back. I worked like a mad monkey all that weekend and yanked up dandelions by the hundreds. Being only 6 I had no idea of the value of a nickel and its relationship to the work I was putting in. All I knew was that I was working so very hard and that my hard work was going to help America be a better place. My knees were grass stained and my little hands had blisters from prying with the fork over and over again. Monday came and my mother gave me two one dollar bills and told me to have them changed into nickels at Ms. Turners store on the way to school.
I went into the old country store just one block from the school and changed my money into a glorious handful of shiny bright new nickels. I had 40 of them. Forty! I had never seen so many nickels in one place before. I was so excited as I ran on to the school. During the first period the teacher placed a large glass jar on her desk and called each student up where she would count the nickels into the jar and write the total on the board. The first kid up had 5 dollars and placed the entire treasure into the jar I was mortified by how many nickels there were and how hard he must have worked to get that many. But soon I came to realize with a dawning horror that I had been short changed literally by my mother. These kids had just asked their parents for the money and vast sums totaling sometimes more that 20 dollars had been handed over to fill the jar with a virtual fortune by my calculation. They had each not worked one whit for their nickels and as a result it didn’t really matter to them how it was earned or really what it was used for. It was all just a game to them to see if they could outdo one another with their parent’s money. When my turn came I placed my paltry 2 dollars into the jar. Someone sniggered and I felt mad because I had worked my hands until they had blistered digging up over 2000 dandelions by the roots with a small fork. I felt that my portion of the total was just as important as any of theirs even if it wasn’t nearly as much but the snide comments hurt non-the less. The nickels were all taken away and that’s the last I remembered of the incident until this past week. What I want to know now is whatever happened to the oil in that pipeline. Here we are in another gas crunch. It takes me almost 40 dollars to fill my tank as gas nears 2 dollars a gallon here and is already well beyond that in some of the urban areas. Where is all that American oil that was supposed to ease the gas crunch? Why does OPEC even affect us at all? I got to thinking about that pipeline and did some research on the net and found that we are selling all of that oil to Japan and other nations that we have trade agreements with at a far lower cost than what they could purchase it from OPEC. We are practically giving it away and not using it ourselves. Why? Because some environmentalist wacko decided that some chemical levels in the American crude were detrimental to the environment without a variety of pollution controls in the refining process. So the cost to comply with clean air standards when processing the oil would prohibitive. Did they not know this little fact before they started the multibillion-dollar pipeline project?

So to summarize America sells its oil reserves to foreign interest at cut rates while the American consumer (namely me) gets screwed by huge oil companies who are in bed with OPEC and the government. In fact this past quarter Mobil and Exxon both reported all time record profits for their shareholders, yet they claim they are not sticking it to the American consumer and profiting from the higher crude prices. Right, like any of us really believes that. I didn’t used to believe the rhetoric about the government being in on the whole deal and that certain politicians were letting the situation continue because it profited them personally. But now I see how it is and I am no longer blinded by an altruistic belief in my government’s desire for what is best for its citizens. And speaking of innocent altruism I remember that little 6 year old red headed kid who worked so hard for that handful of nickels, so that he could make his world a better place. It was all a scam and I was had. I was taken advantage of and lied to and not one bit of my hard labor and hopes came to anything. Not due to lack of faith and trying but because my teachers my government and my parents all lied to me. The money more than likely went to pay for an expensive lunch on Capitol Hill for a Senator meeting with the President of Mobil Oil and some Sheik while they discussed how to further advance their own bank accounts at the cost of the American public. I tell you what I want! I want my nickels back. That’s right I want my Damn nickels back. Do you hear me George Bush? Nixon can you hear me in your grave? The Exxon Valdez didn’t spill oil along that stretch of coastline it was the black vile blood from the hearts of all those who stole the hopes and dreams of a younger generation all those years ago. I want my 2 dollars in nickels back. GIVE ME BACK MY NICKELS !!!

Andrew's Rants.

STUBBING UP

Have you ever noticed how most people will just stub up when they walk into a store? A big example is when you are behind a group of Inbred, Slope-headed Degenerates and you are entering Wal-Mart or K-Mart. As soon as they are inside the door they stub up and crane their necks back and begin to stare around. Kind of like a bear coming out of hibernation in the Spring. They begin to gawk and wave and point out items of interest while their feet remain stubbornly motionless. They show no consideration for those behind them who are in the same position they were mere moments before. Namely trying to get into the store, make a purchase and get back out. Now suddenly you are faced with the Clampets in front of you, drool and spittle leaking from their lower lips as they stare in wide eyed wonder at all the bright colors and marketing materials. Perhaps the bright lights numb their brains further than they already are. You have to push past them and elbow them aside as you attempt to retrieve a cart to do your shopping. Most stores have so much trouble with this phenomenon that they hire someone to stand by the door and greet these snapper heads and help direct them along, handing them a cart and booting them deeper into the store with an obligatory Welcome" on their lips. For God’s sake people, it’s freaking Wal-Mart! Most of you have been here countless times before and you still act as if it is some New Grand Experience. That’s kinda sad when you think about it.

These are the same people who slow down on the Interstate when it is one lane. Now follow this reasoning. You have two lanes of traffic and it’s traveling along at 65 to 70 miles per hour. Signs appear and you find that the road will narrow to one lane for whatever reason in a few miles. Everyone consolidates down to one lane and you’re still zipping along doing 55 to 60 MPH. Then "Blammo!" you are going 15 because some Dumb Ass way up the line has stubbed up. This persons pint sized brain couldn’t cope with the road narrowing and assumes that it is less maneuvering room and therefore he must slow down. Yet this same Bubby Joe will readily do 60 on a one lane twisty country back road that is much narrower and much more precarious. There is no perspective in the myopic view of this brain dead Neanderthal. As soon as you’re past the constriction its back up to 70 MPH. Dumb Ass has found the accelerator again. It’s the same mentality that caused trouble on the mountain roads in Eastern KY when I was growing up. Most roads are only two lanes even the highways because of the tremendous cost in building them. You literally have to move mountains to create a flat spot to drive on. But the area is filled with Coal Trucks, huge 40 plus ton Behemoths that slow to a crawl when they hit a hill. As a result the Highway Department usually has a passing lane on the uphill side of the mountains, it narrows to two lanes at the top then the oncoming traffic has the passing lane on their uphill climb. Now these same snapper heads that stub up in the grocery store when faced with a new display for Hemorrhoid
Treatment are the same ones that will drive 30 MPH on the downhill side when you are faced with 2 lanes of oncoming traffic. But as soon as they get on the uphill section and the road widens out to two lanes they speed up to 70 and you have to gun your engine and work at it to pass the Bastard.

There are several theories as to why they do this. One is they see the road get wider and think "Oh, it's safer now, I can speed up!" regardless that they were just traveling 20 MPH below the speed limit while using the same amount of space. The other school of thought is that they are such Bastards they want to have the power rush of keeping everyone behind them. It’s a trip for them because their life is so magnificently insignificant that the only perceived importance they will ever have is that of keeping you behind them on the highway. These pathetic wretches of human trash will do anything to feel like they are in control of any aspect of the Universe around them. So they strive to keep you behind them on the highway by speeding up in the passing zones and then slowing down to their actual IQ ratio somewhere around the mid 40s when they are in an area where it is impossible to pass them. The third theory is that they have no idea what they are doing. It’s amazing that their brains can even generate enough processing power to walk, let alone drive a vehicle. They are just drifting along on the road varying their speed and position as a pure visceral reaction to the environment they find themselves in. Sort of like brine shrimp or those little microscopic Creel Critters in
the ocean. They just drift through life letting instinct take over and shunt them around with no conscious thought of what they are doing. This last theory is my explanation of choice. Most people are not malicious enough to want to keep you behind them and the same applies to the first theory. There are not enough of those stub-up drivers with a high enough intelligence quota to justify the idea that they are making a conscious decision to slow down and speed up. No, it's just basic animal instinct. If you were looking at a Chart of the Human Evolution from Monkey to Present, these people would be about 4th from the left. I know it’s not right to classify people and to make stereotypes of certain groups; but, My God! Some people are just so stupid it’s amazing they even manage to breed, but somehow they manage to do so without hurting themselves too much.

Stubbing up, what can you do other than push on past them and hope that life will say, "Hey look this guy evolved and you didn’t, you lose". The entire situation is often summed up by me in a statement I yell at my cats as they get underfoot . . . "You have the Entire World to be in . . . why do you want to be right where I am?"

Andrew's Rants.

DUMB ASSES IN CARS

This past week we spent a while in the local hospital with a relative who is a Dumb Ass. His is a situation that so many people find themselves in. He is 16 and his parents bought him a Corvette. He immediately went out and began to engage in races with other Dumb Asses in the area. This city I now find myself living in has a mind numbing fascination with car racing. In the next city over is what is termed the fastest track on the NASCAR circuit, The Bristol Motor Raceway. So every weekend during the Spring and Summer there are hoards of red necks in campers doing the tailgate party thing along the Bristol highway and filling up all the hotels and local campgrounds. All the local populace might not be able to tell you who the Cabinet Members of the current Administration are, or even who the Vice President is, but they can list every driver on the National Circuit and what they had for lunch. All the local punks deem themselves professional racecar drivers just due to proximity association. My nephew was no different. We begged and pleaded with him to stop hotroding but the skinny little mouth just postured and said, "What use is a fast car, unless you drive it fast?" There are places to race don’t get me wrong. In fact, the local raceway provides several nights a week in between the regular events when locals can run drag races with whatever they can drive onto the track. Cost 10 dollars per race. Betting is not officially sanctioned but happens anyway. But Mr. Know-it-all, like many others of his age group, spurn this safer environment to race in and choose instead the twisty winding back roads of the local countryside. You will come around a corner doing the speed limit minding your own business and be facing two Dumb Ass teenagers who are racing taking up both lanes. Needless to say it has caused many deaths, wrecks and boundless loss of property. My wife’s nephew, who I now refer to as "Dumb Ass", was on a road that is generously called "two lanes" but falls far short of the actual measurements. It has turnouts to pull over on when you meet oncoming traffic. He was racing an opponent, another Dumb Ass teenager, and somehow became airborne as he shot off the road and flew over 90 feet through the air to embed his car in the side of a 2-story brick house. He broke his back in three separate places and it is still to be seen if there will be permanent loss of motor control. The house obviously suffered extensive damage and his car is totaled. His cohort in stupidity managed to escape relatively unscathed taking out only a yield sign and causing minor damage to his car. Dumb Ass is sticking to his story that he was just passing the other car.
First of all it was a no passing zone and second according to the police examination he had to be doing in excess of 85 MPH in a 20 zone. Just the week before we had been questioning Dumb Ass if he had purchased insurance and given him advice on not racing. His reasoning was he was young and his reflexes were so fast he could extract himself from any situation and didn’t need insurance. He denied the accusations of racing even though we had reports to the contrary. Now the stupid fool will have his license suspended for a minimum of 2 years and since he had no insurance he will have to pay off the new car and the damages to the home as well as any fines levied by the courts. What else is a fast car for if you aren’t going to drive it fast? Hell, I have a gun, it’s made to shoot people but to date I have yet to do so. It’s called common sense and restraint. Just because a car will drive 130 miles per hour doesn’t mean you blast around all day trying to prove it can go that fast.

I think this preponderance to be a Dumb Ass with a car must be inherited. Because his father was the same way, His father, Jim, had a Dodge Shelby Cobra when he was 18 if you can believe that. What a fantastic car. A collector’s item. His father, a hard working man of impeccable morals and values, allowed him to have an open line of credit at a local service station under his father’s name. Jim racked up a five hundred dollar tab at the local convenience store on gas because he was out racing that cobra. When the store called his father about the size of the bill he confiscated the car and sold it to the first buyer for the cost of the gas. $530.00, Can you imagine the luck of the person who picked that beauty up for that price. It just goes to show you that he was a Dumb Ass when it came to cars and now his son has proved himself likewise. Fortunately he didn’t kill anyone. If someone had been in the room his car smashed they would have been killed.

I am all in favor of teenagers being restricted on their driving privileges. For instance several states are trying to pass laws to prohibit 19 and under drivers from driving after dark. Or changing the driving age to 18 instead of 16. Hell, my kid is turning 15 this month and will be eligible to get a Learners Permit and he can’t remember to flush the commode or put the milk away. I am positive he won’t be able to remember what a Stop Sign is or any of the dozens of rules involved with the operation of a motor vehicle. I told him he could drive when I was dead. Case closed. One less Dumb Ass out there trying to kill me on the road. But not all Dumb Asses in cars are teens. Many that manage to not kill themselves off in the early years manage to learn enough to survive and become a bigger danger to the rest of us than teens ever were. Case in point, the little old geriatric ladies in their huge land yachts. A huge 4 door mid 80s Cadillac or Buick Roadmaster. They are hunched forward in the seat and peering over the wheel. Their eyesight gone, the reflexes nonexistent, driving a virtual tank of a car and woe and be damned anything that gets in their way. If you think I am kidding just go to Scottsdale, Arizona on one of those rare days when it rains. This happens about twice
a year there. I have seen this phenomenon myself and was warned about it and didn’t believe it until I actually saw it happen and was almost killed in the process. All the nearly dead mummified old people who move out to Scottsdale for the dry air and year round warmth drive huge lead sled cars. The roads are always hot and the tires get really good traction. As a result none of them ever change their tires when they get bald because they never notice a loss of traction. It’s like having racing slicks on a hot track. But when it rains the ground is so dry and hard packed the water just stands on the surface rather than soak in. The roads have a film of water on them and the tires have no tread. You see where this is going don’t you? They all get out after a rain and its hydroplane city. Crashes and pile-ups everywhere. The best any sane person can do is run inside the nearest building when it rains and stay there for hours after it stops until the living dead crawl back home that evening to go to bed.

Others that pose a threat to us all are the ones that have a cell phone in one hand and a cigarette in the other trying to juggle them around constantly and drive in traffic at the same time. Or perhaps the Pompadour Lady with the Poodle on her lap bouncing around while she is trying to drive. Then you get the Soccer Moms who are trying to retrieve something constantly from the back of the vehicle by twisting around and even though the vehicle is still traveling forward. They are looking in the backseat digging around for who knows what or perhaps beating a kid. Or the couple so interested in sucking face they pay no attention to the world around them. My God people, if there is something that important that you need to be distracted from the task of driving then pull over and take care of it. I’m not saying that accidents don’t happen; but, that’s what they are . . . accidents. Just don’t increase the chances of you having one at my expense. Pay attention and don’t be a Dumb Ass.

Andrew's Rants.

SCREAM THE WATER DRIPPING

Scream the water dripping, dripping, dripping, late at night.

Resounding drumming, throbbing, pounding through the walls.
Dripping, dripping, dripping echoing down the halls.

You need to rise and turn it off yet the floor is very cold,
Still that faucet just won't quit it's worn out and it's old.

Dripping, dripping, dripping each drop sounds like a gun,
Will it never stop? Your head feels like a drum.

At last you can't take, that noise through the wall.
You fling yourself from the bed and run screaming down the hall.

With a mighty surge you smash into the room.
Your voice thunders loudly, "Prepare to meet thy doom!"

Grabbing up the plunger and with a demonic swing,
you begin to lay about you like an insane thing.

Finally when you’re spent, you sink sobbing to the floor.
Tomorrow, you promise yourself, you will fix it, and slam the bathroom door.

Andrew's Rants.

DO YOUR JOB

The other day I purchased a bed for my kid and a Weed Eater for myself on my day off from work. Ethan felt that the bed he currently had was for little kids and wanted to put his mattress on something more manly. He is getting to be a teen and is feeling like he needs to assert himself. We picked out a queen size brushed stainless steel and pine bed that has a very definite masculine flair. Next we went to the ever present and ubiquitous Wal-Mart and I picked out a new Weed Eater. It was a Toro brand but looked exactly like the Snapper I had last season. It was a piece of underpowered crap and fell apart after two months of use. We took our purchases home but stopped on the way at Lowe’s. On an impulse I bought an entertainment center made out of that compressed fake wood stuff that weighs a ton. I had to hurry home before I completely spent the entirety of my paycheck for the week. The first thing I opened was the Weed Eater. I figured that I would work outside while it was still cool enough in the morning and then when it got hot I would go inside and assemble the
furniture. I had to use a box cutter to get into the packaging because they had it sealed like Fort Knox. 3 layers of cardboard with huge brass staples 3 inches long holding it all together. Inside the form fitting Styrofoam posed another obstacle and then the plastic bagging that was to tough to tear with your hands and had to be cut off with special attention to the heavy fiber reinforced tape that closed the ends of the bag that was almost indestructible. Like any real man I did not read the instructions but just started assembling the unit. It was the same exact one as the Snapper I already had. The same company, just sold to a different middleman, made it and their name was placed on it. I got rather pissed at the fact that I had paid more money for the exact same product, but what can you do. I finally managed to get the entire thing assembled and was down to putting on the support handle and realized there were no screws to attach the unit. I looked all through the packaging and could not find them. Now I was mad. In some foreign country like that pest hole called Indonesia there is a factory cranking out these things. Some slope head on the assembly line has the job of dropping in a hardware package into each box as it trundles by on its way to the civilized world. Somehow the simple act of placing one prewrapped plastic pouch in each box seems to be beyond these snapper heads. Little Nyoman, as I refer to him, screws it up. He misses several boxes at a time. Drool collecting on his chin, eyes crossed, and all of his brain cells burned away from the crack he has lived on all his life. He has no idea of what his is doing. Wal-Mart who used to advertise that they bought everything American made whenever they could no longer follows this policy and buys the cheapest product available worldwide to feed the American consumers thirst for cheaper products. As a result quality went out the window. You can’t bring the price down and expect quality to remain high. So I suffer and Nyoman gets a job slacking off and earning 2 American dollars a day. All he had to do was put 4 frigging screws into the damn box but that was beyond him. Pissed off and sweaty I returned the Weed Eater to Wal-Mart and exchanged it for a new one. I got back home after being subjected to the mind numbing process of going through Wal-Mart's return procedures and trying to reassure the dumb blond behind the desk that the unit did not have fuel in it. I sat down on the back porch steps and began the process again. I started with the support handle and yes, the parts were there. But when I got to the trimming head it was missing the reverse threaded nut that holds it onto the shaft. Now normally I would have just taken it like a dicked over consumer and found a nut in my shop to place on the unit, but this was a reverse threaded 11 millimeter metric nut. I doubt there was one in the entire town available at any of the hardware stores and specialty fastener places combined. I freaked out. Nyoman had screwed me again. All he had to do was place the parts in the freaking box as it went by. What did he do with them? If he missed a box then did he realize his mistake and perhaps put two hardware packs in the next box in an erroneous attempt to make up for his screw up? If so why did I never get a box with two packs of hardware?

Really pissed off now I returned this unit to Wal-Mart. I then went to a place that sells lawn equipment exclusively. It's expensive and out of the way but I needed a new trimmer that worked. I bought a Husquavarna. It was a beauty. It came fully assembled and ready to go. Just add the gas and oil mix and you are on your way. It cost 350.00 for the fool thing but it was like buying the equivalent of a Lexus in lawn equipment. I trimmed the yard for a while and then went inside to assemble the entertainment system. Yep, you guessed it. It was missing about 20 of the little locking cams that fit into precut slots and hold the thing together. In this instance Nyoman was supposed to place about 50 of these little fasteners in the bag but managed in his slope headed ignorance to miscount by 20. Was it just pure apathy or simple “eat up with the dumb ass” as my best buddy George used to say that caused this phenomenon. I took this unit back
to Lowe's and exchanged it. Before I made a repeat of my earlier mistake with the Weed Eater I opened the new one they’re on the sales floor before I even loaded the heavy sucker into the flat cart. I wanted to make sure it had all the parts. I had opened a total of 5 boxes before I got so disgusted that I just left the entire mess there and walked out. Nyoman had struck again, not a single one had contained the correct hardware to assemble them. I returned home and with fear and trepidation I opened the box containing my kid’s bed. Surely I thought Nyoman didn’t get this one as well. But Nope! I was wrong. It was missing all but one of the bolts that connect the frame to the headboard and footboard. I went to Home Depot this time with that one bolt. I did manage to match it up and got 7 more along with the necessary washers and nuts. My whole point to this is the Nyomans of the World should do their jobs. They have one specific thing to do in their job description and somehow they manage to screw it up 99% of the time. They get my order wrong in the Drive Thru, they misapply my power bill payment or my cable bill payment. I have consumer products that are missing all the parts and pieces or the auto mechanic forgets to put back in the oil plug when I have the oil changed. My mower doesn’t work when I get it home it just blows smoke or my new hard drive has a faulty motor. Do Your Job people. That’s all I ask is just do the little mind numbingly simple task you have been assigned. Wipe the slobber from your lower lip and stop grunting like a Neanderthal long enough to use at least two brain cells and create some friction up there in the vast emptiness that is your skull. To the genius at the newspaper who screwed up my add and listed me as having a Yard Sale, I have nothing but contempt for you. All you had to do was type in what I gave you exactly as it was on the paper. But NOOOOOO! He screwed up the only thing he does.

To all the Nyomans out there who screw up their simplistic jobs with an alacrity that borders on fanaticism, you are just useless pieces of human trash good for nothing more than spending life sucking on the welfare teat and being a leech to society. In fact I would rather they not work at all, as opposed to screwing up my day by doing their job badly. Don’t the places that hire them have quality controls or care about the negative impact on their bottom line from all the returned merchandise. I have had some stinker jobs in my life that I hated, but I always did them to the best of my ability even if I didn’t like them. Is that something to brag about? I don’t think so. It should just be standard practice. If you don’t like what you are doing then
find something different but don’t do your job badly and screw up my day. Once again, DO YOUR JOB! That’s all I ask is just do your job right. Screw those caps on tight, count those nuts and bolts, pass those laws in Congress whatever it is, just freaking do it and don’t make me have to do it for you.

Andrews Rants

EVERYTHING 7 DOLLA

My Wife, who is the sweetest person who I know in the entire world, can sometimes show a mean streak that is quite uncharacteristic. Perhaps it’s because she has to put up with my caustic personality on a daily basis that she occasionally will mentally torture a complete stranger. It must be her way of venting all that pent up rage she accumulates while dealing with my inane antics. One occasion comes to mind specifically. She had decided that she wanted to go shopping and as a reward I was allowed to go along. In other words, I was pack labor to carry bags and packages. We had been through several stores and had spent over an hour looking at new clothing without actually buying anything. Now this is a little off the point but why is it men are expected to go along on these little jaunts and patiently wait around for hours while every item on a sale rack, meaning the whole store is fingered or tried on. We men are expected to have a nice comment about every possible ensemble combination and somehow find a non-offensive answer to that question, "Does this make me look fat, or my butt look big?" Rather than screaming out, "I am blind, I can’t see!" and groping madly for the exit door, I have developed an answer that usually works. I say, "If it makes you happy it makes me happy". This, intermixed with grunts and nods, seems to work well. They really don’t want our opinion and never notice an ambiguous grunt assigning whatever meaning to it that they wish. Stores realize that this is the situation. They have those little hard prison benches scattered outside the dressing rooms and around the store. On them you will find grown men hunched over circles under their eyes holding their wife’s purse while she is trying on a new outfit. If you happen to be by the dressing room you have the added bonus of garnering evil glares from all the females entering there. They assume you are waiting for a fleeting chance to see some skin. Like you are some weird pervert rather than a man trying to make his wife happy by enduring this ordeal. I mean what normal heterosexual male would voluntarily spend an hour in the bra section of Wal Mart unless he was with his wife? An unattached man, or one who is better than I, escaping these situations would make a beeline for sporting goods or electronics. Women expect us to go shopping with them because their girlfriends are competition. They all start out with the best intentions, shopping with the girls, but soon it devolves into those catty little situations where it becomes who is the skinniest or looks the best in a revealing outfit and the entire trip is ruined. With us they get a bag carrier and a captive "yes man" to reinforce their decisions. But the situation is not reciprocal. If you want to go to a hardware store and get a new tool, after 3 minutes the complaints start. My feet hurt, how long is this going to take? have you found what you need yet?, what do you need that for?, do we really need that?, can we go yet?, I have to use the restroom and the one here is filthy, and so on. I have seen my wife shop non-stop for 6 hours once while on vacation but somehow she cannot manage 3 minutes in Lowe’s. God forbid you run in while they wait in the car. Even if you only take ten minutes from start to finish they have gotten hot and irritated, even with the air conditioning on and you will pay for it for the rest of the evening.

Anyway on this particular shopping trip my wife had finally drug me into a store called Everything 7 Dollars. There was a small middle-aged Asian man behind the cash register with a sign that said NO TAKE CHECK OR CREDIT CARD. Evidentially he only accepted cash and had no grasp of proper grammar. My wife dived into the clothing racks like an Olympic swimmer and soon emerged with a sweater and waved it at the little Asian man and said, "How much is this?", because nothing in the store was marked. I can only assume that she thought it was like a Dollar General Store where everything wasn’t a dollar but just low priced. The little man harrumphed and looked put out that he had to put down his Chinese newspaper and said, "it 7 dolla". Satisfied with the price my wife went back to shopping. Next she held up a blouse from the back of the store and yoo-hooed the little man while waiving the blouse and said, "how much?". Exasperated the little Chinese man threw down the paper and yelled back, "IT SEVEN DOLLA!". Taken back by his attitude my wife’s face hardened and I just watched on from the sidelines thinking, "Buddy, you just screwed up". Once again this time with a fake innocent smile on her face my wife requested a price on an item. The little man now no longer attempting to read shouted, "Lady, evething in stoor seven dolla!". My wife continued this several more times the situation almost comical her asking prices the little man getting angrier and angrier his little black goatee quivering with anger. She came up to the register with an armload of items and he retreated behind the safety of the cash register. My wife began to quiz him on the prices of items she had brought up. "Surely, this isn’t seven dollars it's much too nice" or "This has to be more than 7 dollars". On each one the little Asian man now answered in a straight monotone "7 Dolla", "7 Dolla", "7 Dolla". Finally he freaked and began to scream, "Lady, you crazy everything in stoor seven dolla!, eveything everywhere all seven dolla!" He was so mad he was shaking and spit globs were shot-gunning from his mouth as he yelled. Slamming his little fist on the counter he screamed, "Get out my stoor! Get out now!" "Eveything 7 dolla! No come back crazy lady!". Laughing we exited the store and returned home. Brooke claimed that she felt much better and that getting the little man that mad was fun. She knew it was wrong and she shouldn’t have done it but it was so much fun she claimed. Even today we will nudge each other in similar situations and say, "7 dolla".

Andrews Rants

ARE WE OUR BROTHER'S KEEPERS?

I have the solution to this whole Middle East strife problem and the rampant terrorism that is plaguing the civilized world. Let’s look at the problem first. A lot of Middle Eastern, goat-marrying, towel-headed, camel smelling, uneducated, screaming fanatics say they hate us because we support the nation of Israel. They say we are the great Satan and they hate us because we don’t worship the same god as they do. I say that is all just an excuse they propagate to spread hate. They hate us because we are the haves and they are the have not's. We live longer, have better food, drive cars, have houses, look better, and live a lifestyle that most of them can only dream of. It boils down to basic human nature, they want to live like us but since they can't they would like to see us all dead. Sure the little rag-heads like to use religion as the basis for their hate and claim they are just striking back at us because we interfere in their way of life. They even go so far as to say that their religion does not advocate violence. But they will be the first to strap on an explosive belt and blow up a bus station or hijack a plane. In contrast, you don’t have too many Baptists capping people at airports. I like to think that if I was going to be that stupid I would want to make my death more meaningful than taking out 3 or 4 of my supposed enemies on a sidewalk. Life is meaningless to these heathens and they are little better than animals in their dealings with other cultures and with each other. They have been fighting for thousands of years over whatever it is they fight over. I don’t know sand, camels, dates, water, whatever the reason is they have a history of internal strife and civil unrest covered in a blanket of fanaticism and bloodshed. The only reason they are of any importance to the rest of the world is their oil. They have a
natural resource that everyone else wants. In fact, we as Americans pay through the nose whatever price they want and they gladly sell it to us. They bring in staggering sums of money each year from their oil production but it does not seem to trickle down into the rest of the strata of their economy. With all of that said, I think we all recognize that the basis of the terrorist movements in the world originate for the most part in the Middle East. The governments claim they are not involved and don’t know who is. The religious leaders proclaim peace and condemn the violence while it still continues all around them. You get the sneaking suspicion that they both are quietly winking and giving a go ahead to the various terrorist groups and even helping to fund and support them. Take a look at Yasser Arafat. For decades this slug of a human being supposedly fought against terrorist activity and advocated peace. If his people who supposedly loved him so much really felt that way they would make an effort to resolve the conflicts they find themselves in. The county of Saudi Arabia our supposed political ally in dealing with the likes of Afghanistan and Iraq sits back and quietly funds terrorist activities. They harbor terrorist groups and provide financial funding while we just suck it up when the scandals break about their deceit because we want their oil. All of these groups and governments are quite well aware of what is happening in their little sand lots. They know where and
what is happening and deep down in their black little hearts they want to see us all dead. They should be held accountable for their countrymen. The old question “am I my brother’s keeper?” is yes. And we should hold them to that. If they really wanted to put a stop to the terrorism they could. My plan would ensure that they have the motivation to do so.

My solution will be considered by most to be harsh and cruel, harming innocents and those not involved. Tell that to the people in the now vanished World Trade Centers or the people killed in the Pentagon on 9/11. I know it sounds callous but in reality war is a terrible thing and it is never pretty. When we had to bomb Hiroshima I can just imagine the anguish that the President must have put himself through to reach that terrible decision. But it was the right decision to prevent further loss of life and end a war. That’s what we are in now is a war. One with not so clearly defined opponents as the media would have us to believe. I say that our enemy was defined pretty clearly when the President described an axis of evil. We should hold those governments responsible for the actions of the citizens they fund and support along with the actions of their relatives and neighbors. The terrorist receive their funding and supplies from tin pot dictators such as Pol Pot of North Korea and from countries like Syria, Iraq, Iran, and Saudi Arabia. The French sell them weapons and others make it possible for them to hide and train on their soil. America should treat this as a war not of terrorism by small groups and individuals, but as a war of countries and religions that support terrorism as a way of life. If we apply pressure, real definable measurable consequences unilaterally on all the countries that are affiliated or support terrorism any time there is an attack, we would see a halt to the affliction of terrorism upon the civilized world. Those countries responsible who claim innocence would make sure that they took it upon themselves to eradicate the presence of terrorist activities and support within not only their own countries but neighboring countries as well. Those countries who might not be responsible for any current attack but who also harbor terrorism should be held equally accountable in the event of any future attacks. Let them police each other out of fear of repercussions from the United States. Let the entire world understand we will not stand for anyone to terrorize us or our allies and that we are the big kid on the block and we will use that leverage to make the world safer, even if it results in war and innocents being killed. In the long term it will serve the greater good of humanity, just as Hiroshima did. Once the countries that support terrorism understand we will no longer stand for their duplicity and will act accordingly they will solve the problem for us from within.

The solution is harsh in the extreme but would only need to be used once or twice at the most. It is a grim solution one that shows no quarter and as I wrote previously would kill countless innocents. But in the long run it would bring a stop to terrorism. The President would address the United Nations and the World with a statement. In it we would list the countries at the top of our list based upon their actions, past history and current intelligence that are most suspect as harboring or supporting terrorists. We would promise that with the next attack upon American citizens or upon our country that we would drop neutron bombs on the capital cities of 5 of the top countries on our list. With the next attack we would bomb 5 more secondary cities and an additional 5 more capitals in 5 other countries associated with the terrorist plague. Only once or twice would have the entire world scrambling to eradicate the terrorist threat from their nations and from their neighbors so that they would not be targeted for retaliation. You can bet that even if they were not guilty they would fear guilt by association and help all of their neighbor’s clean house so to speak. Harsh? Yes! Would the rest of the world condemn it? You bet! Is it the right thing to do? More than likely not. It would cause damage and panic the likes of which have never been seen. Would it solve the problem? You Bet!!! I guarantee that overnight terrorism of any kind would reach an historic low. Keep in mind we only want to buy their oil and do honest trade with them. They want to kill our children and us because they are "foaming at the mouth, mad dog fanatics" with no regard for human life. You can’t try to understand animals like that or reason with them. You can only train them to respond to certain stimuli. A nuke or two would be quite sufficient in supplying the right training I would think.

Andrew's Rants.

WOULD YOU LIKE FRIES WITH THAT?

Things that piss me off ... at the top of the list with Crying Babies in Movie Theaters and people who leave the door open when the air conditioning is on; are Fast Food Drive-Thru's that have people working who refuse to listen to your order. I hate it when you drive up and they ask can I take your order, and when you start to give it they say, "Wait just a moment please." and leave you setting there for 8 to 10 minutes waiting for them to come back and take your order. Why did they ask if they could take your order if they weren’t ready to begin with? Then they place those little Concrete Barriers on the perimeter of the Drive Thru so if you get tired of waiting you can’t leave but have to continue waiting in line like cattle until you get some response or the line moves on. You either have to risk tearing out your oil pan driving over the 4 to 6 inch barrier or wait until you get up to the window and by that time you figure, "Well I am already here, I might as well go on ahead and get the order now no matter how badly they have screwed it up". Or in the case of some people they feel intimidated now that they are facing a real human being and buckle-under rather than saying, "You have made this whole experience so unpleasant and I now refuse to eat here or pay for this slop." ... and drive off.

I hate it when you are giving your order and the person taking it keeps interrupting to ask questions. "Do you want that extra crispy or original recipe?" "Do you want everything on that or just mayo?" Well, if you would just shut the hell up! I will tell you dick head. Shut the pie hole you call a mouth and listen that’s what they are paying you for. To listen to my order. I wouldn’t be here giving it to you if I didn’t already know what I wanted and you keep interrupting me.

I hate it when you start the order and ask for something out of the ordinary. Something like a drink with no ice. The speaker box gets quiet and at the end of your order it says, "Can you repeat that". What the whole order? Which part didn’t you understand? Usually in this case someone else comes on over the speaker
who is usually the Supervisor and says, "Can you repeat that order please". What? You had someone on the line taking orders who didn’t speak English. It was a test? What happened to the first person?

I hate it when they try to use suggestive sales and say something like, “Do you want fries with that?” or “Do you want to Super Size that?” or “Do you want the Combo?” Hell no! If I wanted some of the greasy nasty fries I would have ordered some. It’s not like I forgot about them with the 18 inch high glossy photo of them here on the menu staring me back in the face the whole time I placed my order. No, I don’t want fries with that. In fact, for the past few years I have adopted an ordering method of saying “... and that will be all” at the end of my order. That means I don’t want anything else, that’s all I want, finished end of the order, no more. When they rejoin with “Would you like two apple pies for only 99 cents?” I say, "What?” They repeat themselves and I say, "What?” This continues until they get confused, which isn’t very long, than I say, "Did you get my order?" and they say, "Yes". I ask, "Did you understand it?" They say, "Yes". I then ask them, "Did I order an apple pie?" they say, "No". I ask in my best dad-voice explaining a simple obvious fact to an idiot child, “Then don’t you think I would have ordered an apple pie if I wanted one?” In these situations I know they are going to spit in my food so I then cancel the order and drive off.

I hate it when the speaker is so garbled all you hear is "AaaaaKKkkpphhtt" or "Ggghhbbllxx". You have to yell louder and louder trying in vain to be heard and then when you think they have it right as you try to interpret the garbled sounds emanating from the speaker you realize they have no idea what you want and there is no way in hell you are getting whatever it was that you ordered.

I hate it when you give the order and they repeat it back to you and it has no relationship to what you just told them. Thus ensues a minute’s long, back and fourth banter to try to unravel the verbal jigsaw puzzle that is your order. How hard can it be? Are there really that many stupid people in the world? No wait; don’t answer that it will just depress me.

I hate it when you drive off and open the bag after the ordeal of ordering has been accomplished like a Medieval Battle in Full Plate Mail Armor and it’s the wrong order. It’s like the whole ordering process had absolutely nothing to do with what you actually got. You then either eat what they decided to give you because you are in a hurry, or you get out and go in and try to find someone who works behind the counter with at least a little spark of intelligence behind their eyes. Trust me; it’s easier to just eat the wrong order. There’s no one in there with higher than a room temperature IQ.

I hate it when they say, "Sir, it’s going to be a few moments ... can you pull forward and we will bring it out to you?". I always say, "No, I can’t do that because you will just forget about me or hope that I become tired of waiting." and drive away. "I am setting right here until I get the order I paid for". They usually come back with, "You are holding up the line." and I say, "No, you are because instead of getting back there and fixing my freaking food you are wasting time here arguing with me and I am not about to move until I get my order." That usually speeds them on their way.

What I really hate the most though is when you pay for a 5 or 6 dollar order with a twenty and get back change for a ten. When you bring it to their attention they deny it and when escalated to the manager they usually say they will check the drawer at the end of the shift and if it is over they will send you your change. Right, like the 3 card Monte in Drive Thru won’t have pocketed the difference by then. This has happened to me on so many occasions I now perform a special little adjustment to the 20 or 50 I am paying with. I tear off a ragged small chunk from the corner and lay it on the seat beside me. When the situation arises I have the manager pull out all of the 20s or 50s and have them select the one with the chunk out of the corner. I then hand them my piece which fits perfectly. They get embarrassed and stutter around and give me the remainder of my change. In those situations I hope the little turds responsible lose their jobs, go broke, get evicted out of their apartments, and die cold hungry and alone in a ditch on the bad side of town with no sympathy
from anyone except the local Sterno Bum.

Most people are cattle and just suck it up rather than voice their displeasure at how bad the service is. That’s why I drive a F150. Screw the little concrete barriers. I drive over them. Or I will go up to the window and ask to speak to the manager who is more often than not a pimply faced teen who really doesn’t care because he is in a dead end job supervising people who are slinging grill scabs for a living. Just remember, you are the consumer not a victim. When a Drive Thru treats you like a heard animal ... stand up for yourself.

Andrew's Rants.

AT THE MOVIES

When I was a child our mother divested us of the evil influence of the television at an early age. As a result, when I was old enough to do things on my own I became an avid movie goer. There was something about going into a cool dark theatre and watching these glorious images larger than life up on the silver screen. I began to keep a notebook with all the movies I had seen with my own ranking system and notes. As I got into college, I had filled 5 notebooks with only 2 or 3 lines devoted to each movie. I found the Kentucky Theatre one evening with my roommate Paul in our sophomore year at EKU. It was on Main Street Lexington and was a step back into the past. We saw The Rocky Horror Picture Show for the first time and were hooked.

As soon as we walked in you knew you were in someplace special. Old movie posters were on the wall and the carpet was worn and faded as was everything else in the place but its beauty still showed through giving you a view of what movies and stage entertainment were like in decades past. It was two dollars to get in when everyplace else in town was at least 7. The concessions were reasonably priced with free refills on the drinks. Lighting was dramatic and low and every inch of space on the walls was covered with scroll woodwork and filigree with gold highlights. It was very Baroque or even dare I say Rococo. The ceilings all had stained glass and the auditorium seated well over seven hundred people. There were red velvet curtains drawn in front of the stage that covered what seemed like an acre of screen and an actual performance stage. Sometimes the KY was still used for plays and performances. What used to be the old Orchestra Pit was now bare and was often used as a dance floor as it was on that first night we showed up.

We were greeted by the crowd of people inside with Water Guns as they squirted us and all yelled, "Virgin Virgin Virgin". It was a baptism, so to speak, into the cult like fan base that surrounded The Rocky Horror Picture Show (RHPS). We threw rice and tissue paper, screamed out our lines with prompting from our new found friends and danced the glorious Time Warp just mere feet away from a 20 foot tall Dr. Frankenfurter up on the screen dressed in drag, finally falling down on the dance floor to strain our necks upwards and watch the rest of the movie and usually passing different bottles of various recreational liquids around between ourselves. Afterwards we would all pitch in and help clean the theatre. With several hundred humans involved in a task it went quite quickly and within 10 minutes the entire theater would be spotless and ready for the regular shows the next day. Paul and I made this a normal part of our Friday night entertainment for over a year until the beautiful Kentucky Theatre burned. A fire spread from the Gay Biker Bar next door called "Juice's Showroom". I was heartbroken. Now there would be no more RHPS at Midnight on Fridays, no more first run movies in my favorite theatre on the big screen. I had to hie myself back to the regular theaters. At this point, I began to notice things I didn’t like about the modern movie going experience. Over the years I have written several essays about the movies and in the following weeks I will post a few of them. I hope they make you think and question not only the movies but life in general, and our perception of it.

Andrew's Rants.

CARMIKE CINEMAS

it’s time for the Rant and Rave of the Week and it’s about the movie viewing experiences available here in Johnson City, TN. This week Carmike Cinemas are the target of my ire. Each time I go there I become so frustrated that I promise myself that I will never go again. The last movie I saw there was the "Haunted Mansion" by Disney. I assume it was a good movie that’s why I went to see it. But Disney has no control over the sloppy and downright deplorable practices of this fine establishment. The move started late, not really an issue in the overall viewing experience but I have a hang up about promptness as anyone who knows me will tell you. Then the film became twisted in the projector 20 seconds into the previews so that it was like
looking through a kaleidoscope. This went on throughout the previews until I got up, went out found one of the "Human Shaped Monkeys" that worked there and informed them of the problem. Why should I have to do their job for them? Isn’t the projectionist supposed to be keeping track of these things? What are they being paid to do up there in that booth, pick their noses? I resumed my slouched viewing pose in the somewhat sticky chair encrusted with mystery stains.

Now this theatre sports the touted "Stadium Seating" and is relatively new. Why can’t they keep up the investment of their recent renovation by occasionally doing more than sweeping the floor? After a movie there, I feel like "Spiderman" because the soles of my shoes are so sticky that I feel as if I could walk up a wall, and don’t even get me started on the goo that is splotched among various seats. I’ve sometimes wished I had one of those sanitary covers like some restrooms offer. At this point, about 7 minutes into the movie, I noticed that the sound track was out of sync with the video track. I thought they were all locked together on the film I didn’t know they could even get out of time. It wasn’t too bad and I decided to just grin and bear it. Instead I focused on ignoring the main problem I have with this particular theater. It is one that I have spoken to the managers about on more than one occasion. The image on screen is always bright in the middle but becomes progressively darker around the edges. It’s almost
like tunnel vision. The director made the movie with the blocking of the entire screen in mind. But Carmike Cinemas in Johnson City appear to turn down the intensity of their projection bulbs to prolong the life of the unit. They are apparently quite expensive. But this practice results in providing a dim and underpowered image. The edges in bright scenes are noticeably darker as if seen through a pair of sun glasses. Darkened scenes such as a "Nighttime Shot" disappear into obscurity. On the occasions that I have voiced complaints, I have been told that this was not the practice of the theatre; but, the evidence provided me by my own eyes and the opinion of a friend who is a 30 year veteran of theatre management say otherwise. I gritted my teeth and endured the dim lighting and flickering edges. However after 20 minutes into the movie the sound was so far out of sync that it was like watching one of those old Godzilla films where the voice-overs leave the actors mouths moving for several seconds after the dialog has stopped. In this case you would hear a door slam almost a second after it happened on film. You might not think a second is a long time but look in the mirror and try a little lip syncing and see what a big visual difference it makes. Once again I stepped out of the movie and asked an indifferent Pimple Faced Teen in the attire of an employee if he could address the problem. I decided to wait for a response and also to see if his attention span would allow him to actually convey my message to someone with a higher than room temperature IQ. Shortly another Pizza Faced Teen returned with me to theater to see the problem for himself, as if perhaps I was making the complaint up for my own amusement. We stepped in far enough to see the screen. Eddy Murphy’s dialog was now almost 2 seconds out of sync with his lips. "Pizza Face" looks at me and says, "I don’t see a problem Sir. That’s the way it’s supposed to be". I’m sure I goggled at him in amazement for a moment until I realized that my goldfish more than likely had more going for it than this parody of a Sentient Being. At that point, I asked to speak to management and was informed that none were available until later in the evening. Gee, I wonder why the place is run like a "Third Rate Dollar Cinema on the Bad Side of Town". I got a refund on my admission price and left.

So here we have a movie that cost Millions to make and Hundreds of People who put everything into getting the smallest detail just right, and we don’t get to see the end result as intended. What we get is an Out-of-Sync, Under-lit Piece of Celluloid that in no way resembled what was intended by Disney at all. My solution is this. Complain to the management if you are not happy. Don’t just sit there and take it. If you don’t do anything, no one will ever change things. One of my favorite sayings is “You are the Consumer not a Victim” remember that advice.

We do have alternatives. The Reel to Real Theatre on North Roan Street is smaller with fewer screens but if there is a problem they will fix it, and you are not treated like an inconvenience if you wish to discuss an issue. The theatre has recently undergone a renovation and while I am not happy with the screen sizes, the sound is decent and the place is well kept, all except that poor worn out Galaga machine in the lobby. Somebody please either shoot it, or fix it but don’t just leave it to suffer like that. There is Tri Cities Cinema on the way to Bristol in the same shopping center as Carolina Pottery which offers a superior viewing experience to the Carmike Fiasco and if you want a truly quality movie going experience the Tinsel Town Cinemas in Bristol offer the areas only THX Certified Theaters. In fact, they might just be the only ones with that prestigious honor in the entire region. Sure it’s a drive but it’s worth it. The only downside to these three alternatives is distance for the last two mentioned and the fact that none of them have online ticket sales through sites such as Movies.com or Fandango.

Keep in mind there are alternatives and if you are not happy let the management know. Otherwise you are just a sheep who takes whatever they might want to foist off on you at the Johnson City Carmike Cinemas.

Andrew's Rants.

SCREW THE THEATER

Why is it that when I go to the movies now I have to sit and watch 20 minutes of commercials and infomercials mixed in with the previews? What the hell is going on? It used to be you watched a few previews and then got right on into the movie. But now you have to watch ads for Coke or Nike or some fool stupid car that no one wants. At home I see enough of this crap on my television but at least there I can change the channel. At the movies I have to suffer through them as a captive audience. I can’t get up or I will lose my seat and I can’t change the channel. Now I know what many of you are saying that the cost of movies is going up and they have to do this to make a profit. Well I understand profit. It is in the 8 to 10 dollars they charged me to see the dammed movie and the 25 dollars for the outrageously priced popcorn and drinks for my family. My God, $2.50 for a 12 ounce drink that’s in a disposable cup and half ice. I would love to have that kind of profit margin in my business. It reminds me of comic books when I was a kid. When I was very young I collected comics. Richie Rich and Donald duck then later on Batman and Superman, Green Lantern and Iron Man. They only cost a nickel in the beginning and I loved reading them. They were half ads for crappy products like invisible itching powder and the classic X-Ray Vision Specs. As I got older the comics changed. The artwork improved and the colors became vibrant on the slick Baxter paper. But the prices went up up up and the ad space increased. Soon almost ¾ of each comic was ad space and they were costing 2 dollars apiece. As a result today’s youth does not collect comics and is missing out on a part of the culture that a previous generation loved. Only the 40 year old Vernellian Virgins still living with their parents now collect comics. Trying to relive their early youth by imagining themselves as the hero on the glossy pages and lusting after the super heroin babes with antigravity tits in the skimpy skin tight outfits.

I am almost to the point where I say, "Why should I go to the theatre to see a movie?". It is just going to be overpriced and full of ads. I will have to walk on a sticky floor that is covered with "only God knows what" and sit in a too small seat trying not to crowd or touch the complete stranger crammed in next to me. The sound is going to be poor and the picture more than likely will be dim because most theaters turn down the projector intensity to prolong the life of the expensive bulbs. Then you have some knuckle head that lets the voice get out of sync on the movie or it jumps the reel or gets out of focus. Inevitably there is someone who talks on their cell phone or teenyboppers giggling or some Giant Reject from the Circus Sideshow in front of me blocking the view. Now days you get a screen hardly larger than a large screen TV in some instances. I used to go to the movies on a religious basis when in college. The Kentucky Theatre in downtown Lexington was my favorite place. They showed mainstream selections along with cutting edge art films and foreign
material. It was an old Vaudeville Auditorium decorated in Baroque style with lots of gilt woodwork and stained glass accents on the ceiling. Velvet Curtains that would actually open and close between movies and a true large screen. Not one of those pint sized ones that you get in theaters nowadays. It was an acre of silver screen so you could see and live the movie in larger than life detail I loved going to the KY and missed it terribly when it burned. It has since been rebuilt but I have long since moved away. My point to this little rave is I fear movies will go the same way as comics. Soon they will have so many adds and be so expensive that the only people who will go to see them are those same Vernellians who are showing up for the 50th anniversary showing of Star Wars. Right now. I am almost to the point of waiting until I get the DVD and watch it at home on my large plasma HDTV with true surround sound. I can skip any ads or pause it to go to the restroom and I can sit on my favorite couch. In fact, screw the theater. That’s right you heard me, screw the theatre. I can buy the DVD for less than what one trip to those miserable hell holes will cost me.
Right.
Screw the theater.

Andrews Rants

PET PEEVES

Everyone has their pet peeves and hang-ups. It's just part of being human. Some people let it affect them more than others and anyone that has a mother, which I hope was most of us, knows they have a built in ability to find that button to push and send you off the deep end into screaming incoherence quicker than any other person on the planet. The only other people who have that same ability are wives but it takes them time to develop the skill whereas moms seem to be able to do it instinctively. Anyway I thought I would try a bit of a cathartic exercise and try to overcome some of my hang-ups by writing them down and sharing them with the world. Even if it doesn’t make me feel better it will let the rest of the populace know in advance what pisses me off and what they should avoid when they are around me.

Babies crying in movie theaters. Now don’t get me wrong I love kids. I was one myself once and I have a wonderful son who is a delight to me. But why, oh why, do young couples take infants into the movies? I am not talking about the latest Disney movie and the audience is full of kids of all ages. That is the targeted audience and it’s normal for kids to be there. I’m talking about grown up movies. No not adult X rated movies but grown up movies where there is a lot of suspense, car chases, and gratuitous sex and violence. I’m setting there in the theater and waiting for the new Van Helsing movie to start. My 15 year old son and I have been looking forward to it for weeks. In comes a set of former DINKs. That’s Double Income No Kids (DINK). Like I said former. Evidentially they decided to spread their genetic code around and cranked out not one but two little piles of genetic refuse. One was 3 and the other was about a year and a half. They sat right in front of us and immediately the little boy the 3 year old began to shrill in an ear drum piercing squeal how he wanted candy. Then it was the restroom and a spilled drink and a change of diapers and then out for popcorn which was flourished liberally around the theater as the kid ran wild up and down the aisles yelling and all of this was before the previews started. The younger kid slept blissfully unaware in his mother's arms as the father was up and down after drinks and popcorn or chasing the brat. Behind us I caught a smell of poo and turned to see another set of ex-DINKs with a little bundle of joy in a car seat setting next to them. I wondered if they actually bought the ticket for the car seat to occupy that space or if they were just mooching it hoping the theater wouldn’t be crowded enough to raise the question. The kid had obviously shit its diaper and the odor was rank but both of the former yuppies were oblivious to the stench. The movie started and immediately both sleeping infants burst into terrified screams as the Dolby surround sound assaulted them at a volume they were not accustomed to. To give them credit they wailed out over the blasting explosions and loud gunfire in the first preview. I was hoping that they would quiet down by the time the movie started or that the Cleavers would have enough decorum to extract the screaming infants from the theater so that the rest of the paying customers could enjoy the show. But no, they stayed, the babies erupting into stereo wails at every new monster or loud noise. I was being assaulted by wafting poo odor and two infants crying in terror while the toddler shrilled out his screams so loudly that a police siren by comparison would have sounded muted. Not once did either set of parents do anything more than attempt a pacifier in the mouth to rectify the situation. My son and I finally got up and left. It was useless trying to listen to the movie with all the noise and the smell. Why on earth would you take an infant to see that type of a show? Were the yuppies so stupid that they thought the kids would enjoy it or perhaps they couldn’t find a sitter and really felt the need to get out and do something? Something like ruin my evening. Please keep your little screaming bastards out of grown up movies and take them to see Barney. When they get older take them to see more mature movies. Like I was trying to do with my kid.

This same principal can be applied equally to restaurants as well. No one wants a 5 year old you don’t know trying to snatch food from your plate while the parents look on beatifically thinking it’s cute that "little Tommy is making friends". No one wants to be setting in a fine establishment and have to listen to an infant crying non-stop while they are trying to enjoy a candle lit dinner. I’m not talking about McDonald’s or the local "All you can Eat Buffet". That’s supposed to be a family atmosphere. Like I said, I am not a person who dislikes kids. But there are some places that are grown up and the young couples who want to show off their progeny should have enough manners and social decorum to understand that the rest of us would rather not have to have our evening disturbed by their inconsideration. There are enough places for just that type of situation. Take the kid to Chuckey Cheese and let it run wild but don’t, oh please don’t, make me come over there and have to ask you to make the little shit leave me alone as he runs up and down the aisles dumping glasses of water in the floor. If I had acted like that as a child my parents would have stomped a mud hole through me. It’s not the kid’s fault they are just being kids. No it’s the parents fault for not being parents and still wanting to be kids themselves. The generation of young adults I see out there today with their rapper MTV background display an astounding lack of social skills and manners. I am frightened by what their children will turn out to act like. Hopefully I will be long gone by that point.

Andrews Rants

PACKAGING

I want to go off for a moment on packaging. Somewhere in this world is a school that teaches Techno Nerd Engineers to design and produce the most 'human-unfriendly' packaging possible. Take for instance the PSP2 thingy I just bought for my kid. It came in a box just a tad bigger than a shoe box. When I opened it, it contained Styrofoam to protect the electronics. It had enough of this padding so that if it had been run over with a fully loaded Mack truck I doubt that it would have suffered any damage. I know what you’re thinking, so what, big deal, so it had a protective packaging around it. Well what bright genius decided to pack a sensitive electronic instrument inside one of the most energetic materials known to man for creating static electricity. Styrofoam. When I finally managed to separate the wielded together clamshell halves of the Styrofoam encasing I found an impenetrable shell of hard Mylar casing. You know the type; it’s most often used for things like batteries and such hanging on racks in the supermarket. It is crystal clear and rock hard while still maintaining just enough flexibility to make you think you actually have a chance to physically remove it from your purchased item without resorting to deadly force or a jackhammer. You have to use a knife to cut through this stuff and all the while try not to cut yourself from slipping because it requires Herculean strength to perform this task. You also must take great care to not damage the contents that you purchased that lie mere millimeters below the trembling knife edge. When you finally get the item out of the mass of brightly colored packaging it is barely larger than a paperback book. Now why did they need all that packaging? Was it because they thought that the perceived image of the item costing 200 dollars should come in a larger box. That some people seeing a small paperback novel size package would say I’m not chucking out 2 bills for that but I sure will for this bigger box?? Perhaps so.

Individually wrapped cheese slices are another packaging nightmare.
You get this crisp cool yellow cheese slice out of the package and it is wrapped in a skin tight plastic wrapper. Now this wrapper is like Scotch Tape or packing tape that has gotten stuck down onto its own self and you cannot tell where it begins or ends. You can finger and fondle it for hours scraping a fingernail across every perceived and imagined starting point and still not find where the beginning of the wrapper is. How hard would it be for the manufacturer to put a little dotted line on the plastic or an offset pull tab? In the end you now have a lumpy wad of warm unappetizing cheese like substance inside a crinkly shell of cellophane that is still resisting all efforts to remove it. It has been my experience that at this point if I vigorously curse while wadding the thing into a small tight ball it will cause the free end to spring free. Sure the cheese comes out in crumbled pieces but what else are you going to do.

One of my greatest pet peeves on packaging is medicine. Now follow this scenario closely we have all been there. You have a massive headache and its throbbing through both frontal lobes almost blinding you with the pain. You go to the medicine closet and pull out a new bottle of pain killer. It’s in a small plastic wrapped box that is usually quite easily opened. Inside is where the trouble begins. That bottle is small and has a child safety cap on it. First of all the cap is shrink wrapped with that same Kryptoninan clear plastic mentioned before and even though it often has tear here perforated lines on it they are a lie. It usually takes a sharp object like a Ginsu kitchen knife or Samurai Sword to finally remove it with any effectiveness. Now this cap beneath is all white and has a white arrow to line up with a white notch so that it will pop free. If you didn’t have a headache before you tried to open this thing, you are guaranteed to now as you try to focus on this white on white Rubix Cube puzzle. The simplest way to bypass this ingenious torture device is to get a child who in 2 seconds flat will have it open and ready for use. That’s why they call them child safety caps. Only a child can open them. Now you’re in the home stretch. You look inside the bottle but it’s packed with cotton to keep the pills from rattling around and chipping in transit. It’s packed in there good to, kind of like Sardines in a can. You try in vain to pick it out with your fingers but it’s no use. Fingers are just too big to fit past the constricting neck of this nickel sized opening. All you can do is repeatedly grasp and snag little tufts of the stuff and try to tease the remainder out of the bottle but it always breaks off just as you think that this time you might have it. Now not only do you have a headache and high blood pressure but you’re mad as hell and you need that painkiller. Tweezers are not to be found and nothing in the house will suffice to reach inside and snag the cotton. Finally you loose control and slam the bottle to the floor hoping to break it. With the 'force of your pain' induced throw you do the Incredible Hulk justice yet the cotton wadding still stays firmly in place and the bottle skitters under a table or couch never to be seen again unless you have a small child to send into the stygian depths after it. With a screech and an ever increasing string of profanities you get a butcher knife or some other instrument of destruction and begin to wail away on the offending bottle until structural integrity is lost and pills go spraying across the room. You pick up as many as you need and choke them down with the 'anger induced' bile that is rising and stumble off to bed. Why is it necessary to package something like over the counter pain medication as if it were a weapon of mass destruction? Hell, if all the guns in the world were sold with the same precautions we would never have another war. All of these and many other packaging problems make me want to find one of those little packaging designers or engineers and just slap them silly before dipping them slowly head first in a boiling vat of plastidip.

Andrews Rants

STOPPING FOR THE DEAD

Why is it people stop for funerals? I know what most people say, "It’s to show respect for the dead". They’re dead, they don’t care. They needed respect when they were alive. If you're that concerned with showing respect then the next time you are honking your horn in frustration at a stupid driver or flipping someone, who you don’t know, the finger because they cut you off, remember that so called "need to show respect". The next time you see a Homeless Person pushing a cart or sleeping on a Park Bench show some of that 'respect' by helping them get back on their feet. What you don’t need to do is bow up in front of me at 50 miles an hour and come to a screeching halt because some dead guy is passing you in a hearse on the opposite side of a 4 lane restricted access highway. This causes wrecks and deaths.

This is the situation. I spend half of my life waiting at Red Lights and trying to get around some of the 'Room Temperature IQ Morons' out there who have managed to pass the DMV’s Drivers License Test, or trying to avoid being hit by 'aging geriatrics' peering myopically over their steering wheel while driving a 20 ton Land Yacht. These people make my life miserable and they are the very ones who will slow you down on the way to work when you are 10 minutes late. They are also the very same morons who will slam on their brakes at the first sight of a funeral procession. It’s not the law that you have to do this. I’m not saying blast past at 80 miles per hour and play loud music but just keep going the same speed and go around them. For God's sake, don’t slam on the brakes, someone might be behind you and let me give you a real big hint: The guy is dead ... he has all the time in the world to get there. I, on the other hand, don’t have that luxury.

It’s the same with School Busses and Ambulances. If they are on the other side of the road going in the opposite direction don’t freaking stop. Just keep going you stupid Snapper Heads. Sure if the School Bus is stopped with its sign out unloading kids you need to stop as well or if the Ambulance is coming up behind you then get out of the way but not if they are coming from the opposite direction. Just the other day I went around a funeral procession that was going 3 miles an hour and my wife gave me hell about it and several other motorist honked at me. It was two lanes going in the same direction and they were only using one so why shouldn’t those of us with life still in us, and a schedule to meet, use that other lane. But of course, I had to stop at the next light and here comes the hearse with its 3 block-long tail. They just drive right on through the intersection and ignore the Red Light and sure enough a Water Delivery Truck has to slam on its breaks to avoid smashing into one of the cars in the procession as it sails leisurely through the intersection ignoring the Red Light. A car then slams into the back of the Water Truck and the hood crumples up like an accordion. Aren’t they supposed to have police escorts when they run lights? And if they are in such a hurry to get there that they have to run a light, then why the hell don’t they drive any faster that the snail crawl they barely manage? 'Show respect for the living', I say and follow the normal traffic safety laws just like the rest of us have to. You don’t see me getting a group of friends together and parading around town causing traffic problems. Oh No, we would get a ticket so fast it would make your head spin. No, I think it’s a plot by the Funeral Directors to generate more business. They are hoping that people will get killed so that they will have more dead bodies piling up from all the car crashes they are causing.

So in conclusion, just remember the stiff in the lead is dead. More than likely you didn’t even know him and wouldn’t have said 'Hi' to them if you passed on the street. Why on earth do you feel the need now, when they are dead, to show some amount of false respect for someone? Just keep on going because I might be behind you and from now on ... I’m not stopping. That’s right, from this point on all you Snapper Heads out there in love with your brake pedal and a false sense of propriety just remember that big F150 in the rear view mirror with the rail road tie for a bumper is not stopping. So either get busy driving or get busy being dead ... your choice. Who knows perhaps I might even slow down a little for your funeral ... but I doubt it.

Andrew's Rants.

REVELATIONS FROM THE SHOWER

As many of you know I recently became an ordained clergy person in the Church of Spiritual Humanism. It was done as a lark on a whim. I paid them 60 dollars and received the title of Reverend Father. As I began to think about this I realized that perhaps even as a joke it might be a bit sacrilegious and decided to actually study the bible a bit more and try to understand my own chosen religion. It seems every morning that while I am in the shower under the scalding water as my brain is jolted awake I do my best thinking. Eyes closed against the sting of soap I ponder the nuances of what I read the evening before as I prepared for sleep. I read late night in bed much to my wife’s annoyance. Anyway I begin to look at what I read from different angles and examine it from not only a spiritual point of view but also a scientific perspective. Now this doesn’t mean that if science cannot explain something it is not real or has no relevance. Science is just a tool of logic and experience to help one understand something by providing a logical frame of reference. When it can’t do that then you need to learn more so that you can understand. That is why science is always expanding, growing, and developing new theories and revealing new information. As I said just because you can't explain something with science doesn’t make it not so. It just means that you can’t explain it yet but it’s still real. That’s where faith comes into play. Sometimes you just have to believe for the sake of the belief alone.
Anyway as I stood there under the water stream the other morning I thought about Noah and his arc. We read in the bible how the entire world was covered with water and it rained for 40 days and nights. We know now that there is not enough water on earth to cover the entire surface even if all the liquid trapped as ice at the Polar Regions was melted. Although it would certainly go a long way towards flooding every low-lying coastal region. If you look at most civilizations they grew up around natural water sources like rivers or lakes or oceans. Easy access is necessary for any beginning society not only for drinking but agriculture and transportation. We do know without a doubt that there was a catastrophe in the dim historical past that caused massive flooding. It is recorded around the world in many different civilizations records independent of each other. Many scientist now think it was a case of plate shifting in which the continents will shift across the surface of the molten core of the earth in a sudden gestalt movement that happens every 40 thousand years or so. It seems that the idea of slow plate movement is a fallacy of erroneous thinking and that in a matter of hours the entire earth shifts its magnetic poles as the surface continents swirled around. It sounds too incredible to be true but it is. We can see the evidence in rock formations where magnetic north will change by sometimes as much as 180 degrees in a matter of a week. Einstein theorized that this shifting was caused by ice building up at the poles. As it snows and ice is added each year the ice pack grows larger and larger. Eventually the amount of water trapped as ice at the poles is so out of proportion to the earth’s balance that something has to give and the planet self corrects. In this instance the very crust shifts on its liquid base. Suddenly what was a tropical jungle is now the North Pole. It explains a lot that plagued scientist for many years. Like why under the Antarctic ice there is a lush tropical jungle 400 feet down frozen solid or why they can dig up frozen mammoths with food still in their mouths but just freeze dried in mid chew. From the current theories the climate would have gone from sub tropical to 180 below freezing in less than 2 hours. This would \cause all the water trapped as ice to melt rapidly over a period of months and the condensate would cause terrible storms that would rearrange weather patterns for years. Remember Ethiopia used to be the Garden of Eden, now look at it. It has also been theorized that this event which occurred last about 25000 years ago was responsible for the overflow of the ocean at the Gibraltar straights which caused the small land bridge to give way and flood the entire area now known as the Mesopotamian sea. It is widely proven that under this sea are hundreds of villages and some massive cities that were deluged with water and covered literally overnight. They are our best source of archeological treasures from that time period. Cities like Troy that were thought to have been a myth entirely have been unearthed along with Rhodes Helike and major portions of Alexandria. Some are so old they do not even have names or historical references. If you were living in this low lying area and suddenly it began to rain and the world filled with water from horizon to horizon then certainly to your frame of reference the world was flooded. What I find truly amazing is the stories that come from other great cultures. In many ways, so similar, yet also unique. Take Hawaii, for instance. Before Christian influence, they seem to have had a story about the great flood -- the Kai-a-ka-hina-li’i -- which left two people stranded on top of the peak of Mauna Kea. Then there is the story from the Peruvian Incas. When two shepherd brothers were warned by their llamas that a great flood was coming, they hid away in a great cave. As it rained and the floodwaters rose, the mountain in which they were hiding kept growing higher and kept them above the flood. After the flood, the shepherds and their families repopulated the Earth, but the llamas always preferred to stay in the highlands because they remembered the flood. Smart llamas! The Aztec, who had a myth about the great flood before the Europeans arrived with their version, believed that Tata and Nena were saved because they were instructed to hollow out a great log for a boat. In Greece, the son of Prometheus -- Deucalion and his wife Pyrrha, were placed in a large wooden chest. They landed on Mount Parnassus after the flood, which was caused when it rained for nine days and nine nights. Many people think the bible is the oldest record of the flood but you must remember that writing was around thousands of years before the first book of the bible was ever penned. Others erroneously think that the story of Gilgamesh is the earliest written tale but once again they are wrong. Gilgamesh even refers in its latter chapters to a man known as Utnaphistim.

The Epic of Gilgamesh is the story of King Gilgamesh of Uruk who oppresses his people. As punishment, the gods send him a companion, Enkidu, who is his mirror image and becomes his good friend. Together, Gilgamesh and Enkidu defy the gods by killing the giant Humbaba, cutting down the sacred cedar forest which he guards, and killing the Bull of Heaven. Enkidu has ominous dreams of the destiny of tyrants who become slaves in the House of Death. Enkidu finally dies of an illness sent by the gods. Horrified by Enkidu's death and the prospect of his own demise, Gilgamesh undertakes a quest for immortality, which brings him to the abode of Utnapishtim, a virtuous man who obeys the gods and was saved by them from the Great Flood. Utnapishtim puts Gilgamesh to various tests, which he fails and eventually sends him away, assuring him that he cannot escape death. A humbled Gilgamesh returns to Uruk and orders his story to be inscribed in stone. To Gilgamesh Utnapishtim was an ancient tale already from their dim past. It was most likely passed down by word of mouth until it was finally written down the first time most likely in cuneiform characters on clay tablets some of which were found at Nippúr in Mesopotamia and dating back to around 4,000 BC; The most common copy is based on the 12-tablet Akkadian version of the poem found in the 25,000-tablet library of the Assyrian king Ashurbanipal (668-627 BC) at Niniveh.

I guess my point to all this flood business is that just because it’s in the bible doesn’t mean it’s the unquestioned absolute only story. I’m not saying it’s wrong but that it has to be viewed from the perspective of the writer. In the era in which the bible was written they had different views on many things than we do now days. An excellent example of this is the council of Trent of 1545 in which several books of the bible were edited out simply because they did not agree with the formal view point of the church at the time. They eliminated any reference to females of power or any situation that questioned the total authority of the church over daily life and finances. It has been shown that the version we most commonly use as our standard version the King James is a far cry from the original copies found on the Dead Sea scrolls. Political Power struggles and basic human greed, along with normal mistakes and errors have changed the content of our holiest book away from what it originally was intended to be. In fact you can buy a copy of the bible with the edited books restored. They are called the books of the Apocrypha. The Catholic Church recognizes them but will not canonize them.

So back to the flood I know this is all disjointed but you gotta remember its happening in the shower. Thoughts sorta washing down the drain so to speak. Sure a flood happened. No I don’t think it covered the world. Noah most likely built a big barge and put all his livestock on it. No he didn’t put two of every animal on it. First of all for viable breeding stock you need a set of at least 7 non-related chromosomes strands to avoid the Hapsburg effect and run into reciprocity of DNA and stacking of genetic defects. Second to hold two of every animal and their feed and accessories would require a ship the size of an aircraft carrier. It just didn’t happen. I think Noah took the barnyard animals when the yard began to flood and they made a safe get away. To him those were all the animals in the world anyway. Do you think he had ever seen a koala bear or hippo? Try putting a mad rhino in a wooden stall for a month. Trust me you wouldn’t have much of a ship left after that. Yes I think God told Noah to prepare for a flood and that is based purely on faith. I also think God warned many other people in many other countries around the world and helped them survive. If he didn’t we would all look Middle Eastern and that is just not the case. Thank God for that because I don’t think I could handle not bathing and wearing goat sweat as an aftershave. Perhaps the Christians just had better PR than a lot of the other religions. Perhaps they are all valid to some extent. But that is a shower for another time.

Andrew's Rants.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

Last evening we went out to eat at Texas Roadhouse. It’s just full of County and Western atmosphere and a lot of DINKS (Double Income No Kids) that want to show each other how "Down to Earth" they can act as they drive up in their Beamers. We ordered and I got my favorite item on the menu, Green Beans. I love their Green Beans and wish I had a recipe for that style of beans. Anyway as we sat eating, my glass got empty and I looked around for a server and none were to be seen. NONE anywhere in the restaurant. Then suddenly from the kitchen the entire Staff burst forth with a Small Cup Cake-sized Pastry with a sputtering Candle on top screaming at the top of their lungs. You know the drill, the Happy Birthday 'thing' with Cheering, Clapping and so forth while the intended victim acts surprised and spits out the Candle. All the while my glass is empty. This happened again just moments later and then yet again ten minutes later. No sooner would one parade of foolishness end than some 'Goober' would feel left out and declare it his Birthday so he could be the center of attention. Geez! If you want attention go shopping 'nekkid' in Wal Mart or if you want singing, go to Up Chuck Cheeses where the animatronics bears might give a Damn, cause I sure don’t. I still didn’t get my glass refilled and the Waiter didn’t get a tip. Waiters should wait on people. They shouldn’t be off singing Happy Birthday to some Dumbass that isn’t in their area and not going to tip them anyway. They also shouldn’t be overly friendly. For example they will introduce themselves by first name and sit down at the table with you so that things seem more casual, WHO CARES!!!!! Shut up Jean Claude! Get off your ass, and bring us a beer, I don’t want to be your friend or adopt you; I just want you to bring me some food so I can eat. I don’t want a server getting friendly unless I am dining at Hooters and she is blond and stacked.

I swear the next time I am in a restaurant and they start that Happy Birthday crap that just gathers momentum like a bad taste landslide I will get up, leave and not pay the tab. You just watch. I might even stop on the way out and slap the Birthday Person right across the mouth just for fun. Yep, that’s what the 'snapper heads' need is a good old fashion “Smack Inna Mouf”.

Andrew's Rants.

PROOF OF GOD

This past week I sat around and read a new book. It was titled "A Brief History of Time" by Stephen Hawking. I had to reread many sections over and over to even grasp the meaning of what Mr. Hawking was trying to dumb down for the common layman. I am sure some of my friends like George Smith or Johnny 'Rocket Man' Baker would think it was an easy read and skim right through it. But as I struggled through the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principal and the effects of Dark Matter upon the universe I came to realize that the entire universe as we know it operates upon a set of Laws and Principals that are set in stone so to speak. Even if we cannot get the Theory of Relativity to work hand in hand with Quantum Mechanics and each says the other is wrong but both seem to work within our limited scope it doesn’t mean that either is wrong. It’s just so much more complicated that we can’t see the whole picture of what’s going on. As Hawking talked about Singularities that would contain the entire Universe at the beginning of existence before time and space or the universe I came to a realization that the only thing that could contain such unimaginable forces in such a state where even size is nonexistent is GOD. There is no other way it could happen. The Universe around us is so complicated and massive that we as humans with our limited frame of reference cannot even begin to grasp a small portion of the factors involved. Make fun of Sagan with all his Billions if you want but he is on the money with the size thing even if he missed the mark on who put it all together. You see the Universe operates on a complex set of physics so particular and precise that it would not all hold together if even one type of particle did not do exactly as it is supposed to. What I mean is it is no accident that we are here. It was designed and thought out. It was worked and reworked and reworked again and again repeatedly until God got it right. Example the 3 Mass Extinctions here on earth until God came up with us. He would create an eco system and let it run and see how things went then if he didn’t like it or got bored or thought he could do better he would have a massive 'Do Over' and wipe out a lot of stuff and start over. Remember the PRECAMBRIAND PERIOD or the later try with all the dinosaurs. But I digress. What I am trying to get at and not really communicating well is that a lot of people need to have proof of God to believe. The proof is you. Your very existence is proof. Let’s break it down. Hold up your hand. It is the most versatile instrument on Earth and can do anything from wiping your ass to sending a Man to the Moon. It is a thing of flesh and blood comprised of over 148,000 different amino acids in a specific combination. Remember that DNA stuff? Each of those has to be exactly the way they are or they wouldn’t work at all and you would just have a claw or beak or slimy pseudo foot. The laws of so-called evolution do allow for change but to have a spontaneous evolutionary occurrence that is beneficial and not detrimental to a species is about a billion to 1. Factor that by the number of different amino acids and you get impossible. It didn’t happen by mistake it was designed along those previous laws of physics I talked about. Each of those amino acids is composed of molecules and atoms and muons, gluons, electrons, neutrons, quarks, leptons, neutrinos, 1,2,3,4, and ½ spin virtual particles that are so small they work only on a gravimetric scale. If even one of these particles didn’t do exactly as it should every time then you wouldn’t exist. The Universe Wouldn’t Exist. And you thought a Rubix Cube was complicated?

The more I read this book the more I came to realize that God was a very orderly and organized being and that even the chaos in our Universe was designed to do just as it does to fulfill a specific role that might not be all that chaotic when fully understood. Many people think we can only find information about God by reading the Bible and I say, 'that aint so'. You can find out a lot just by observing the world around you. This book proved that to me and it certainly was not written with a religious message in mind. It just brought to light information that wouldn’t exist without a guiding hand. You want proof scratch your head with that hand of yours and look up at the Night Sky.