There's a new ad in the long running series of Mac vs PC commercials. The format is as follows: Mac is young effortless cool and the PC is all old man fumbly ineptitude.
In this latest installment, the PC wants to know if PCs will "ever work the way they should." The PC hops inside his time machine and bounces 150 years in the future. Not surprisingly, we find that PCs in the future still freeze.
The ad has a point: finding a reliable computer can be challenging. You know what's even more challenging? Reliable time travel.
Here's what Apple advertising execs thought when they watched their ad: "PCs don't work. Everyone should buy a Mac." Here's what I thought: "Holy shiiiiit. Microsoft makes a time machine! I'm going to touch a dinosaur."
Look. I'm not going to buy a car that only works half the time, but if that same car only drives me to places where people are handing out fresh sandwiches and free money, I'll use my broken car downtime to eat fresh sandwiches and invest in time machines.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Observations made at 4 am are more important
Normal drivers need light and unobstructed views of the road. 4 am cab drivers need neither. 4 am cab drivers are ninja Jedi, killing time before the billable day starts and they start killing for real.
When you're in a cab and the cabbie can't see out his front window because it's fogged over and it may not matter because his headlights may not be on, don't fret. Check the time. Is it 4 am? Yes? Then it's all good. Ninja Jedi cabbie is going to take care of you.
Not 4 am? There may be a problem. Your driver may not be a ninja Jedi. Bigger problem: your driver may be a ninja Jedi and he's on the clock. Ninja Jedi is going to take care of you.
When you're in a cab and the cabbie can't see out his front window because it's fogged over and it may not matter because his headlights may not be on, don't fret. Check the time. Is it 4 am? Yes? Then it's all good. Ninja Jedi cabbie is going to take care of you.
Not 4 am? There may be a problem. Your driver may not be a ninja Jedi. Bigger problem: your driver may be a ninja Jedi and he's on the clock. Ninja Jedi is going to take care of you.
Friday, February 29, 2008
I am definitely not on the list
I'm pretty square. I've never really been all that cool and I don't ever expect to be considered part of the "in" crowd. That's just how I roll. Or don't, seeing as how I'm all right angles and lacking in curved surfaces...
Geometry humor is definitely not cool.
I'm quite happy being uncool. Sure, it means I've got to reach my daily quota of awkward discourse and I never figured out how to make my hair do that trendy fauxhawk thing, but I can deal with the scant negatives of being a nerd.
I probably can't get into the club, but I'd really rather not go to the club in the first place. It's awfully loud in there and why are people willing to pay that much for a mojito?
Historically, the ladies aren't in love with nerds. However, being uncool didn't stop me from marrying someone way, way, way cooler than I could ever hope to be. Of course, she's also a pretty big nerd. Whoa. Paradox.
The positives of being uncool are numerous and varied, but most of all, being uncool means I just don't need to worry about being cool. It just seems like an expenditure of effort that's better spent writing blog entries extolling the beauty of an uncool lifestyle. Comic books, video games and an amazing wife who somehow transcends conventional stereotypes to exist on a heretofore unknown plane of ultrahip nerdiness that makes traditional standards of social stratification obsolete? Awwwwwesome.
Everyone should be so lucky. But instead of being lucky, a whole lot of people are out buying skinny jeans and learning super new dance moves. My jeans are comfortable and don't inhibit circulation. My dance moves are classic. Nerds for the win.
Geometry humor is definitely not cool.
I'm quite happy being uncool. Sure, it means I've got to reach my daily quota of awkward discourse and I never figured out how to make my hair do that trendy fauxhawk thing, but I can deal with the scant negatives of being a nerd.
I probably can't get into the club, but I'd really rather not go to the club in the first place. It's awfully loud in there and why are people willing to pay that much for a mojito?
Historically, the ladies aren't in love with nerds. However, being uncool didn't stop me from marrying someone way, way, way cooler than I could ever hope to be. Of course, she's also a pretty big nerd. Whoa. Paradox.
The positives of being uncool are numerous and varied, but most of all, being uncool means I just don't need to worry about being cool. It just seems like an expenditure of effort that's better spent writing blog entries extolling the beauty of an uncool lifestyle. Comic books, video games and an amazing wife who somehow transcends conventional stereotypes to exist on a heretofore unknown plane of ultrahip nerdiness that makes traditional standards of social stratification obsolete? Awwwwwesome.
Everyone should be so lucky. But instead of being lucky, a whole lot of people are out buying skinny jeans and learning super new dance moves. My jeans are comfortable and don't inhibit circulation. My dance moves are classic. Nerds for the win.
Friday, February 15, 2008
When The Space Bomb Hits Your Eye Like a Big Pizza Pie, That's a Lawsuit
Apparently the sky is the worst part of town. We were already on alert for unbalanced sexcopter passengers. There are also, of course, birds. FUCK BIRDS. More on that later.
Now, there's an American spy satellite hurtling toward Earth and it's filled with "toxic gas." Naturally, the solution is to fire a missile at the failed device and blow it to smithereens. Thats a great plan army guys, but none of this seems very covert.
Aren't spies most effective when they're incognito? Crawling into the Kremlin through a ventilation duct and stealing the microfilm is great, but it only works if you creep back out. Don't put on a party hat and intercom the enemies to announce your unsubtle departure. "Hey y'all. Just wanted to let you know I was all up in your files, stealing your secrets. Priceless informations are in my fake tooth. I'm gonna stroll right out the front door, but I'm being straight with you so I trust you'll be straight with me. No face punching."
It's already the worst spy satellite ever. Apparently the design concept is "duct tape Polaroid to gassy explosion balloon" and secretive is the opposite of what they're up to. But not just because they're making a big commotion about the chance their spacecamerabomb will knock you senseless, but because it's huge! It's "school bus-sized!" Based on their actions thus far, it's entirely possible they really did put a bus in orbit and thought nobody would notice. Hey spies! A yellow Laidlaw may not be the best place to hide your intelligence program.
I will give spies the benefit of the doubt and assume their spy camera thing isn't a canary-colored kid carrier. However, this is now as much a public relations debacle as it is an intelligence agency issue and maybe using an educational symbol as a size reference for your spacecamerabomb problem isn't the best idea. The cost of Operation School Bus-Sized Spacecamerabomb probably meant fewer dollars for Operation Teach the Kiddies, which meant fewer school bus-sized school buses, let alone reduced funding for science classes.
This is why the next generation of spies and spacecamerabomb engineers are going to think that it would be totally rad to strap a web cam on a helium-pumped Richard Simmons and float him over Pyongyang. The fate of East-West diplomacy depends on how long he stays stealthy once his boombox batteries give out.
Now, there's an American spy satellite hurtling toward Earth and it's filled with "toxic gas." Naturally, the solution is to fire a missile at the failed device and blow it to smithereens. Thats a great plan army guys, but none of this seems very covert.
Aren't spies most effective when they're incognito? Crawling into the Kremlin through a ventilation duct and stealing the microfilm is great, but it only works if you creep back out. Don't put on a party hat and intercom the enemies to announce your unsubtle departure. "Hey y'all. Just wanted to let you know I was all up in your files, stealing your secrets. Priceless informations are in my fake tooth. I'm gonna stroll right out the front door, but I'm being straight with you so I trust you'll be straight with me. No face punching."
It's already the worst spy satellite ever. Apparently the design concept is "duct tape Polaroid to gassy explosion balloon" and secretive is the opposite of what they're up to. But not just because they're making a big commotion about the chance their spacecamerabomb will knock you senseless, but because it's huge! It's "school bus-sized!" Based on their actions thus far, it's entirely possible they really did put a bus in orbit and thought nobody would notice. Hey spies! A yellow Laidlaw may not be the best place to hide your intelligence program.
I will give spies the benefit of the doubt and assume their spy camera thing isn't a canary-colored kid carrier. However, this is now as much a public relations debacle as it is an intelligence agency issue and maybe using an educational symbol as a size reference for your spacecamerabomb problem isn't the best idea. The cost of Operation School Bus-Sized Spacecamerabomb probably meant fewer dollars for Operation Teach the Kiddies, which meant fewer school bus-sized school buses, let alone reduced funding for science classes.
This is why the next generation of spies and spacecamerabomb engineers are going to think that it would be totally rad to strap a web cam on a helium-pumped Richard Simmons and float him over Pyongyang. The fate of East-West diplomacy depends on how long he stays stealthy once his boombox batteries give out.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
The Chef Serves Hot Sex at 500 Feet
"I'm the type of dude who may be in a helicopter over the city having sex." - Raekwon, erstwhile Wu Tang Clan member, when queried as to his Valentine's Day plans.
Helicopters worry me. I don't generally believe in "flight" and a helicopter's excuse for aerodynamic potential is, in my mind, far less sufficient than things with wings and forward-thrusting propellers. I can make a paper airplane. I can not make a Sikorsky S-92.
Second issue is what helicopters represent. Most of the time, their presence indicates unrest. Police searching for a miscreant. TV news helicopter tracking a miscreant. Traffic helicopter telling me why I won't get there on time. If there's a helicopter swinging around, it's usually because there's shit going down.
But NOW I've got to worry about Raekwon having sex up there? Helicopters range in size, but they're normally pretty small. Raekwon is not small. Depending on the vigor of his love making endeavor, he could topple out! What am I supposed to do when a mid-coital Raekwon plummets through the roof? Am I responsible for feeding him? Do I loan him pants? Do I play him my demo? Does this mean I have to make a demo???
And Raekwon's a creative guy, but did he come up with this helicopter sex concept or is there an entire sexcopter trend I wasn't aware of? Laugh now, but when a naked Kathy Griffin lands in your backyard and you've got to call her a cab, it won't be so amusing. Do you really want to look up and see Gene Simmons getting his sexcopter on? Not me. Sometimes "up" is my favorite place to look.
Helicopters worry me. I don't generally believe in "flight" and a helicopter's excuse for aerodynamic potential is, in my mind, far less sufficient than things with wings and forward-thrusting propellers. I can make a paper airplane. I can not make a Sikorsky S-92.
Second issue is what helicopters represent. Most of the time, their presence indicates unrest. Police searching for a miscreant. TV news helicopter tracking a miscreant. Traffic helicopter telling me why I won't get there on time. If there's a helicopter swinging around, it's usually because there's shit going down.
But NOW I've got to worry about Raekwon having sex up there? Helicopters range in size, but they're normally pretty small. Raekwon is not small. Depending on the vigor of his love making endeavor, he could topple out! What am I supposed to do when a mid-coital Raekwon plummets through the roof? Am I responsible for feeding him? Do I loan him pants? Do I play him my demo? Does this mean I have to make a demo???
And Raekwon's a creative guy, but did he come up with this helicopter sex concept or is there an entire sexcopter trend I wasn't aware of? Laugh now, but when a naked Kathy Griffin lands in your backyard and you've got to call her a cab, it won't be so amusing. Do you really want to look up and see Gene Simmons getting his sexcopter on? Not me. Sometimes "up" is my favorite place to look.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
the hateration is coming from inside the house
I've never been a math whiz, which might be why it took a couple decades to crack the following equation:
If everyone is making me mad, the only common denominator is...me. Which means I'm potentially responsible for my own annoyance.
Damn it.
That means myself should be pissed at myself. Or does it? Here's where I make math work for me.
I might not be accounting for important variables. What if "x" equals a coordinated effort to get under my skin? Maybe the square root of "y" is a virulent viral strain that makes everyone send me obnoxious emails and leave ignorant voicemails. See? According to math, it turns out the forces of evil are gathering for the sole purpose of pissing me off.
So, I'm not responsible because the math says so. Vindication by half-cocked theorem is totally awesome. Thanks math!
If everyone is making me mad, the only common denominator is...me. Which means I'm potentially responsible for my own annoyance.
Damn it.
That means myself should be pissed at myself. Or does it? Here's where I make math work for me.
I might not be accounting for important variables. What if "x" equals a coordinated effort to get under my skin? Maybe the square root of "y" is a virulent viral strain that makes everyone send me obnoxious emails and leave ignorant voicemails. See? According to math, it turns out the forces of evil are gathering for the sole purpose of pissing me off.
So, I'm not responsible because the math says so. Vindication by half-cocked theorem is totally awesome. Thanks math!
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