I wonder if fish have nightmares?

I'm proud of my fish cartoon, as it is the rare occasion that the idea that I had in my head and the finished product turn out alike.

But in drawing the cartoon, it made me wonder; Do fish have nightmares about being trapped under air? I don't know. I don't even know if they sleep, or if their dreams of flying scare the crap out of them.

What do you think?

Doc

Are You Looking For Love?

Are you looking for love in all the wrong places? Searching the eyes of too many faces? Perhaps this is for you.

While reading a review for a book my pal Vikkitickitavi recommended, I stumbled across an ad for a matrimonial site for those of the Muslim faith. Now Dear and Gentle Reader, you know I am at heart a die-hard romantic and have a soft spot a mile wide. I am the first one to promote a little more love in this world, as we can never have too much of this precious gift and it should be spread far and wide.

But this mail-order bride stuff is just creepy. What kind of woman would just throw her picture and a short bio on the world wide web and expect to find Mr. Right? Even worse, what man would be trolling through these pictures and thinking to himself, "Well, I've narrowed it down to four..." much like he is trying to pick out a decent used car?

I understand that perhaps it is hard for these women to find a perspective mate in their local for whatever reason and they are looking for someone who shares their beliefs, as this is important in any relationship, but to make that your one and only criteria seems a trifle cold-blooded. Are they really considering the biggest choice of their lives in the same manner as a rancher breeding cattle? "Got a pen? Check. Got some feed? Check. Got a bull? Check. Got some heifers? Check. Got a Barry White CD? Check. Well, lets leave them alone for a while and soon we will have more cows."

And it doesn't really matter that this is a site dedicated to Muslims finding a mate. It could be Jews, Christians, huge fans of the rock group Kiss, or model plane enthusiasts who enjoy crock pot cooking, but why narrow it down to one thing and one thing only.

Most of the people who read my blog have a significant other in one form or another (spouse, girl/boyfriend, cohabitant, fuck-buddy, Playboy's Miss November, etc.) and those who don't, I at least get the impression that they would have one if the right one came along. But would anyone of you pick one single, solitary thing as your yardstick of love? I wouldn't and didn't.

I know when I was still in the market for a soul mate, I had a long list of criteria that had to be met and these were things I considered deal-breakers. First off, she had to be a girl. I don't want to sound hard hearted, but I considered that a deal breaker. I'm always in the market to make a good friend, but when it comes to soul mate, she had to be a girl. My taste just runs that way. Second, she had to be smart, because if I'm going to spend the rest of my life with someone, I've got to be able to talk to them at some point and not have to pull out flashcards. Third, and I know this sounds shallow, but she had to be beautiful. I don't think anyone sets out looking for the ugliest son-of-a-bitch they can find and says, "I'm going to make her mine forever!" After all, you have to consider the fact that at some point you might want to mingle the gene pool, and an ugly mate might be bad, but you wouldn't wish for ugly kids too would you? Fourth, she had to have personality, as I'm not looking for a mate with a pull string in her back. I'm looking for fun, exciting, vivacious, effervescent, not a wallflower that mumbles. Fifth, we had to have similar world views. I'm sure someone out there is looking for a racist, agnostic, argumentative tea-totaling prude who has no sense of humor and enjoys long walks by active volcanoes, as well as Tijuana donkey shows and slasher films, but not me.

Now my list of criteria goes on, but I think religion would come under the heading of similar world views, and while I would consider this a deal breaker, you will note that it didn't come at the top of the list.

What were you looking for when you met that certain some one? Did you start out with one thing in mind? (Other than the obvious, "getting your rocks off.") I'm sure there was at least three things you were looking for, so what were they? I'd like to know.

Doc

A Question Of Sex

I made it to Tiki this Wednesday and a question arose.

If you could be anybody, living or dead, famous or infamous, or even someone you know, who would you be? The only stipulation was you had to be someone of the opposite sex. You would know what you know now, but simply be born into this person's life and time.

The answers were interesting.

The Guys: One suggested their mother, one mentioned their aunt, and the third opted for Sandra Day O'Conner.

The Girls: One said her dad, and the other chose Einstein.

Who would you be?

Doc

Dad's Night

My pal, Skyler's Dad, tagged me for a meme, and since I can refuse him nothing, here it is.

"The premise is that the wife is out that night and it's just you and the kids hanging out. What movies would you watch with them?" Well, my idea of Dad's night is that Flannery stays home with the kids while I sneak away to the Tiki bar for an evening of cold beer and warm friends, but that isn't the question at all.

As Flannery often has to travel and is gone for days at a time, this is a frequent ocurrance here. Given the chance, I would want to sit through The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly for the millionth time, but this is much too violent for two little girls, so we often settle for one of their favorites and not mine.

Lucy is fond of the Pink Panther (the cartoon, not the film) and Rocky & Bullwinkle. Riley likes Singing In The Rain or some Charlie Chaplin movies that we own. The Pawnshop is one of her favorites as well as Burlesque On Carmen.

Lately, we just sit down and watch Mythbusters, as all three of us can agree that it is the best thing ever put on television, bar none.

I don't think I'll be tagging anyone, as most of my readers are childless or ladies, but I would be interested in hearing what Cap'n Ergo Jinglebollocks has to add.

See you at the movies,
Doc

A Question Of Anatomy

I have a question that seems to fall a little out of the realm of my expertise so I feel compelled to turn to you, my Brain Trust, to help me find this answer. Mostly this question is directed to the male readers, but ladies feel free to chime in with your observations.

A while back at Tiki, we were having a conversation about sex and one of the girls expressed with concern the fact that her husband had one testicle that hung lower than the other. John reassured her that this was normal and that all guys have one that hangs lower than the other, always on the left, and not only that, but a man's entire "package" naturally hangs to the left. No one had the chance to challenge him on this statement as the conversation quickly veered in another direction, and the opportunity to ask him where he got this information has not presented itself since then.

This made me wonder.

So I tried to research this a little bit so I could satisfy my curiosity without the embarrassment of asking someone, but my research is scanty and inconclusive.

Mind you, my research includes all of fifteen minutes of reading on Wikipedia and my own personal experience. The reputation of this great online fountain of knowledge I have no reason to doubt, while my own personal experience has frequently been called into question by several competent lawyers in front of a jury of my peers, so my personal experience is considered null and void and will be stricken from the record as inadmissible.

I consulted three different articles from Wikipedia and found this under testicle, (which is oddly enough named after a Roman law. It turns out testicle is a witness) "In mammals with external testicles it is most common for one testis to hang lower than the other. It is estimated that in about 65% of men the lower hanging testicle is the left one. This is due to differences in the vascular anatomical structure on the right and left sides." So according to this, John was 65% correct that it is always the left testicle that hangs lower, but it is the other half of his statement true too?

I have read that women often have one breast that is larger than the other, and while this is a topic that I am much more knowledgeable on and might be able to at least cite a few examples, in the interest of scientific inquiry, I count myself out. (That and I want these women to continue to accept my phone calls)

I always assumed that it was determined by handedness, just as your dominant hand has a bigger arm because it gets more use, but in the case of breasts, or a man's entire "package" that argument just doesn't hold water. Most people are right handed, while about 8-15% of people are left-handed, so that means that only 8-15% of people would have a larger right breast or their "package" would lean to the right? Somehow that doesn't seem right.

The two gentlemen pictured above don't resolve this much either. The hideless dude at the top has an overall lean to the right and is holding the knife that he has just skinned himself with in his left hand, but his left ball looks like it is hanging lower. Perhaps this is just a trick of the light and maybe his slightly raised left leg is influencing his "hang", I don't know. Da Vinci's David is no help. Here again, the left arm is holding something while his right arm is at his side suggesting that David is left handed. David's "package" is centered while his left nut is the one closest to his knees, but he isn't standing straight up either. All of his weight is shifted to his right leg. Here again, no help.

I can't think of any other research I could do on this topic that wouldn't involve bail, so I have decided to pose this question to you, Dear And Gentle Reader, and ask you to join my poll. What is your dominant hand? Does the testicle on that side hang lower than the other? Is that the same side as your larger or smaller breast? Does your entire manly "package" favor one side or the other? Please, no graphic details, we are just looking for left or right answers here. The option to publish anonymously is enabled and feel free to use it.

So how about it? Which way do you lean?

Doc

***Editor's Note*** The author of the above article was mildly to reasonably drunk at the time and has a long record of drinking beer on the job. He blames it on a highly sensitive vascular anatomical structure, whatever that is. Also, if for some bizarre reason you would want to skin yourself like the dude in the top picture, the author would suggest picking a different knife. Apparently no one skins with a dagger anymore, and it is considered a major breach of etiquette in most circles. The Editor would like to defend the inclusion of these two pictures of unclothed men, as the charter of this site has a very strict "No Nudity" policy, but the Editor feels that as these are obviously well established examples of art, no violation of that policy has occurred. If you don't think this is art, ask Da Vinci or Dale, but I would start with Dale first, as Da Vinci doesn't answer his emails. The author has been watching quite a bit of Mythbusters and decided that this would be a good time to make a quick stab at science and see what we learn. The Editor regrets that they are unable to install one of those handy survey widgets that Bub's uses all the time, but the entire IT staff for SZ; tcob left for Nashville this morning and the Editor is ill prepared to figure it out himself. The author is also assuming that you have the original equipment that you started with. Just like Barry Bonds, your record will be noted, but augmentations won't be considered. The entire staff at SZ; tcob would like to assure it's Dear And Gentle Readers that this will not be a subject that will be returned to, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. You know, for science.

Random Thoughts And Questions

I can tell that the economy is in a down turn and I don't need an analyst to tell me. The grocery store where I work is running a sale on ramien noodles and it is an ongoing sale. I'd hate to be a car salesman, a jewelry salesman, or a fur dealer about now.

Have you ever gotten into the shower and just stood still under the water for a moment and then try to move and it feels like you have to peel your feet from the bottom of the shower as if they have achieved suction? Isn't that weird?

Have you ever been grumpy all day and couldn't understand why until you get home from work and peel your socks and underwear off and you instantly have a whole new outlook on life?

Why does lobster and crab meat taste sweet? I would understand if Hershey, Pa. had seafood, but I've seen what these things eat and it is very far from Twinkies.

Is it a silly question to ask a hooker for change for a five?

I would like to purchase a used but working parking meter and install it in my driveway, just so I could get visitors to contribute to my kid's college fund.

I would like to go to San Fransisco and just spend the day on the docks just so I could really understand Otis Redding.

Just once, I would like to go to a fast food establishment and receive a sandwich like the one in the picture.

I'd like to have a beer truck have a flat in front of my house. I would run out to help and the driver would look me in the eye and say, "There is no way I can jack it up when it's full! What am I going to do with all this beer?"

Why does an embarrassing itch never crop up when you are alone?

Just out of some perverse curiosity, I would like to see a book published that has been scientifically researched on the in depth study of the underwear of the clergy. I'm willing to bet my parking meter money that there are some animal prints in there somewhere.

I'd like to own a catapult and park it on the front lawn, just to show the neighbors I mean business.

Have you ever seen a car in traffic with a sticker on it saying they support local police charities? Do they think this is going to save them from a ticket? Does it?

As a seller of doughnuts, I would like to take this opportunity to shatter the myth that cops eat lots of doughnuts. In my two years in the business, I have sold a total of four doughnuts to the men in blue. Twice, I peddled two glazed doughnuts to an officer of the law and it was the same guy both times. The cops know that there is never anything good left after the firefighters have been there first.

How does a "young tart" compare with an "old slut" when youthful zeal and boundless energy are trumped by determination and experience every time? I have heard this said but don't have any experience in either, so I don't know.

We have all heard the old adage about, "You can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink." I would like to add, "You can lead a horse to the track but you can't make him deliver on 20 to 1."

Have you ever thought about stewed prunes? To make them must be like Dr. Frankenstein putting a raisin into some vat of rejuvenating liquid, super-charged by lightening, and arriving at some unsightly mess that has the strength to straighten a quarter mile of crooked plumbing into a short straight stretch from the back of your mouth to it's exit. Did you know that prunes are what gives Dr. Pepper it's flavor?

What is the weirdest place you have ever had sex? Mine is Ohio, hands down.

When it comes to partying, I know my limit. Four soft taco supremes, two chili-cheese burritos, and two orders of fiesta potatoes is my limit, but I might be able to help you with those nachos if you need it.

I have often stated that I like beer. I would like to change my stance on the subject. Heretofore, I would like to go on record as saying I am overtly fond of it. I enjoy it's taste, color, and bouquet. My only objection is it's price. How can bottled water be such a big business when the only way to assure yourself of clean drinking water is to brew it into beer? There is something wrong here somewhere, I'm sure of it.

In my public school health class, the the male gym teacher who was teaching rudimentary first-aid asked the class if they could think of something that might be handy for a bandage for a bleeding wound. The class was silent. I raised my hand and suggested a kleenex, but while he agreed that this wasn't a bad answer, it wasn't the one we were looking for. "It is something designed to hold blood anyway," he hinted. The empty stares were too much after a while and he gave us the answer. "A pad," he suggested. More blank stares, as sex ed was reserved for the end of the year. "A Tampax," he said and suddenly everyone nodded their collective heads. Later on things backfired on our health teacher when we were studying alcohol and drugs. When he invited in senior students to discuss the topic of drugs and alcohol before the class, all of them had nightmarish alcohol stories, but the only girl of the whole senior group advised all of the younger girls that if they smoked enough pot they would no longer have to suffer having periods, and cramps and bloating would be a thing of the past. She was hustled off stage quickly. Pity. I liked her.

As a suggestion to help you through the tough times that seem to be looming ahead, I would like to suggest a phrase that might help ease your load. The next time you feel that the pressure has gotten too much and you are just about to burst, try this tactic. Stand up, where ever you are and shout to the heavens and the stars above, "I Need A Jiffylube!!!" You will feel much better than you can ever imagine.

Doc

Is This Something I Shouldn't Say?

I didn't know who else to ask, so I thought I would ask you.

I've been rereading a book called The Democracy Reader; classic and modern speeches, essays, poems, declarations and documents on freedom and human rights worldwide. I have owned the book for three or four years and have read it cover to cover before. I know that this must sound like a complete snorefest for most of you and I understand, but that is part of the reason I'm here, so I can read this sort of stuff and you don't have to.

I was reading a letter written by Dr. Martin Luther King jr. addressed to local clergymen who comdemned his actions in Birmingham, Alabama to fight segragation. He penned it in the margins of a newspaper in his jail cell. I quote just this one line only, "They will be old, oppressed, battered Negro women, symbolized in a seventy-two year old woman in Montgomery, Alabama who rose up with a sense of dignity and with her people decided not to ride segregated buses, and who responded with ungrammatical profundity to one who inquired about her weariness: 'My feets is tired, but my soul is at rest.' "

Okay, this is the part of the article where I demonstrate what a boob I am. Has the word Negro become a horrible racial slur much like another "n" word we can think of? To be honest, I don't know. It has certainly fallen out of fashion, as I can't recall seeing it in print or hearing it spoken that I can think of, but is it an insulting slur?

I know the other "n" word is acceptable only when spoken from one African-American to another, and it isn't a word I would ever use because in my mind it conjures up the crime of slavery and the hatred, blood, and grevious sin that that entails. I cringe when I hear it.

I know of the word's relative, Negroid, as it is used to describe someone's race, like Caucausian, Asiatic, or Negroid, but that seems clinical and scientific like using the word gender for sex.

Shortly after I married Flannery, I was telling her about some event that happened to me and I mentioned that a guy was colored. "Don't say that!" she admonished. "Why not?" I asked, as it seemed harmless enough. In my mind, colored meant anybody who wasn't caucausian. If I saw someone who was "turning green", "blue in the face", or was painted purple, I would have described them as being colored too. "That just isn't the kind of thing you say. It's rude and hurtful" and perhaps she's right. I don't use the term colored anymore and to anyone I have ever described as colored, I send my heart-felt apologizes. I didn't know.

Only one man have I ever described as Negro. His name was Mr. Black and I called him sir. He worked with my father and ran a trucking and trash hauling service that made him successful even when times were tight. My father was a carpenter and often needed materials delivered or construction scraps hauled away and would always steer business Mr. Black's way if he could and he did this for a reason. Mr. Black was honest, reliable, hard working, and always on time. He would clear his schedule and make time for Dad, and would recommend him to his customers in the community. He charged a fair price but would often give Dad a discount when he knew times were thin.

I remember one fall day when I was a kid seeing Mr. Black pull into the driveway with his big, black dumptruck. He hopped out of the cab and shook my hand and asked if my Dad was around. "I'll go get him," I smiled and ran as I thought about how adults didn't normally shake my hand and I thought that was cool. Dad invited him in for coffee as he always did, but Mr. Black made the same excuse he always did about being too dirty from work to come in. The two of them leaned against the grill of the truck as they hashed out how to best take care of the three jobs they had lined up that week as the hot engine ticked as it cooled. I listened as they transacted business until I heard a rustling in the cab. "Rodney," Mr. Black called, "come on out here. This is going to take a minute." Rodney climbed out and smiled as I shook his hand. He was my size, my age, and wore the same cruddy sneakers we had spent all summer ruining. I showed him the tree swing and we laughed a lot, although I don't remember what we said. In a few minutes, he climbed into Mr. Black's big, black dumptruck and they were gone.

I was just wondering if it would be some kind of a slight to refer to Mr. Black as a Negro?

Like I say, I don't know.

In my mind there is no malice intrinsic to the word Negro. The church I attended with my Grandma was an all black Baptist church on 5th and Main downtown. We were the only two white people in a crowd of a hundred and they wecomed us in with open arms and treated us like family. They taught me what good music really was, and that sometimes you have got to sing the blues, a gift I still treasure to this day and could never repay them for. These were good, honest, hard working, and charitable folks who were active in the community and knew how to "get down" with the Lord. Would I be hurtful if I said these Negros were my friends?

I don't know, but perhaps you could tell me.

Doc

23 Questions to See If I Can Really Love You, by Chuck Klosterman. PART TWO.

If you missed the first three questions, look here. These are not, I repeat, are not my questions. Best answer to any of the 23 wins a $25 gift certificate to somewhere.

Without further ado, let's jump right in.

4. Genetic engineers at Johns Hopkins University announce that they have developed a so-called "super gorilla". Though the animal cannot speak, it has a sign language lexicon of over twelve thousand words, an I.Q. of almost 85, and-most notably-a vague sense of self-awareness. Oddly, the creature (who weighs seven hundred pounds) becomes fascinated by football. The gorilla aspires to play the game at its highest level and quickly develops the rudimentary skills of a defensive end. ESPN analyst Tom Jackson speculates that this gorilla would be "borderline unblockable" and would likely average six sacks a game (although Jackson concedes the beast might be susceptible to counters and misdirection plays). Meanwhile, the gorilla has made it clear he would never intentionally injure any opponent.

You are commissioner of the NFL: Would you allow this gorilla to sign with the Oakland Raiders?

Turn on the Alice in Chains video and read the next question as it plays.

5. You meet your soul mate. However, there is a catch: Every three years, someone will break both of your soul mate's collarbones with a Crescent wrench, and there is only one way you can stop this from happening: You must swallow a pill that will make every song you hear-for the rest of your life- sound as if it's being performed by the band Alice in Chains. When you hear Creedence Clearwater Revival on the radio, it will sound (to your ears) like it's being played by Alice in Chains. If you see Radiohead live, every one of their tunes will sound like it's being covered by Alice in Chains. When you hear a commercial jingle on TV, it will sound like Alice in Chains; if you sing to yourself in the shower, your voice will sound like deceased Alice vocalist Layne Staley performing a capella (but it will only sound this way to you).

Would you swallow the pill?

6. At long last, someone invents "the dream VCR." This machine allows you to tape an entire evenings worth of your own dreams, which you can then watch at your leisure. However, the inventor of the dream VCR will only allow you to use this device if you agree to a strange caveat: When you watch your dreams, you must do so with your family and your closest friends in the room. They get to watch your dreams along with you. If you don't agree to this, you can't use the dream VCR.

Do you still do this?

Like I said, these questions are a bit odd, but thought provoking. Please feel free to answer in the comments section below. Best answer out of the whole twenty-three gets a twenty-five dollar (American, not Canadian) gift card for somewhere. Multiple entries are allowed, and encouraged. The other seventeen to follow in future posts.

Doc

23 Questions to See If I Can Really Love You, by Chuck Klosterman

This series of questions comes from Chuck Klosterman's wonderful book "Sex, Drugs, And Cocoa Puffs". It is wedged between two stories, "The Lady or the Tiger" and "Being Zach Morris". My recent interviews made me think of this list of questions. The article has only this for a preface: The twenty-three questions I ask everybody I meet in order to decide if I can really love them.

I love these questions, even if Mr. Klosterman didn't provide an answer key. These are great group convesation starters, but you have to start with a pretty open minded group, as most of these questions are a little odd.

So, without further ado, question one.

1. Let us assume you meet a rudimentary magician. He can do five simple tricks- he can pull a rabbit out of his hat, he can make a coin disappear, he can turn the ace of spades into the Joker card, and two others in a similiar vein. These are his only tricks and he can't learn any more; he can only do these five. HOWEVER, it turns out he's doing these five tricks with real magic. It's not an illusion; he can actually conjure the bunny out of the ether and he can move the coin through space. He's legitimately magical, but extremely limited in scope and influence.

Would this person be more impressive than Albert Einstein?

2. Let us assume a fully grown, completely healthy Clydesdale horse has his hooves shackled to the ground while his head is held in place with thick rope. He is conscious and standing upright, but completely immobile. And let us assume that-for some reason- every political prison on earth (as cited by Amnesty International) will be released from captivity if you can kick this horse to death in less than twenty minutes. You are allowed steel-toed boots.

Would you attempt to do this?

3. Let us assume there are two boxes on a table. In one box, there is a relatively normal turtle; in the other, Adolf Hitler's skull. You have to select one of these items for your home. If you select the turtle, you can't give it away and you have to keep it alive for two years; if either of these parameters are not met, you will be fined $999 by the state. If you select Hitler's skull, you are required to display it in a semi-prominent location in your living room for the same amount of time, although you will be paid a stipend of $120 per month for doing so. Display of the skull must be apolitical.

Which option do you select?

Like I said, these questions are a bit odd, but thought provoking. Please feel free to answer in the comments section below. Best answer out of the whole twenty-three gets a twenty-five dollar (American, not Canadian) gift card for somewhere. Multiple entries are allowed, and encouraged. The other twenty to follow in future posts.

Doc

For Beckeye, An Interview.

Beckeye, from over at The Pop Eye, offered to interview me and who could turn down a pretty Steelers fan? I couldn't. So here goes.



1. This question has long gone unanswered, so please end the suspense. What's up, Doc?

Nothing much. Flannery and the girls are fast asleep and I'm poking around on the computer late at night, as is my wont. On Oct. 13-14 we are planning a trip to Chicago to celebrate ten years of blissful marriage and hopefully meet up with some of blogdom there. We have been making plans for the Tiki Christmas party, and last week we went to the Greek Festival here in town where I got to try an interesting Greek beer from Cyprus called Keo. (crunch crunch) Pardon my chewing, I'm just finishing a carrot Ala Bugs Bunny.

2. It's my opinion that there just aren't enough drinking songs in the world. If you were to write a new one, how would it go?

I have no musical talent whatsoever. Have you ever been in a crowd of people and they are all clapping in time and then you hear one guy at the back who just can't keep up? Yea, that's me. I don't think I could compose a song as I don't even play the radio well. Nothing I could write would compare to Tom T. Hall's "I Like Beer". It is my all-time favorite drinking tune. Click on the video below and turn the sound up a bit. The video is ridiculous, but they did get the song right.


3. Imagine that you are the star of a "Flavor of Love" knock-off show. You are Flav and we, your blogrolled friends, are all the trashy hos vying for the top spot on your list. What nicknames would you give each of us?

Damn! I should have expected some t.v. show question that I would be totally unprepared for, especially from a pop goddess like yourself, but that does nothing to lesson the blow. I've never seen the show, only the ads for it, but I think I get the gist, so here we go: *WARNING- these will be lame* Beth- Jasmin, Anandamide- Thor, Beckeye- Steely Eyes, Vikkitikkitavi- The Vikster, Blowing Sh*t Up With Gas- Guy Fawkes, Megan- Willis, Coaster Punchman- Harper, Deadspot- Fido, Elizabeth- Madame E, Evil Genius- Macro Me, Geo- George Jefferson, Phil- Hamlet, Johnny Yen- Iggy, Morris "Mo" Wanchuk- Bubbles, Splotchy- Freckles, K.I.D.- Sniffles, Lulu- The Out-Of-Towner, Cooper Green- Mr. O'Naught, Raven- Vincent Price, Mish Mash- Lauren Becall, Pezda- The Artist Formerly Known As Pezda, Flannery Alden- Sucker, Skylers Dad- Fur and Feathers, chris- Smoker Chobie, Bubs- Johnny Law, Tanya Espanya- Tittles, Tenacious S- Dave, Grant Miller- Ted Turner, Herbert Sebastian Crotch- The Organ Grinder, Dale- Spitfire, Frank Simarco- Maestro, Echo- M.I.A., The Boob Lady- who the hell could top that?, Two Can Anne- The Wedding Photographer, GetkristiLove- High Stickin' Ho, genn6- Dancing Queen. Wow! That was tough. I hope these questions get easier.

4. What is your favorite quote from a movie - one that you frequently work in to your everyday life?

The one I find myself using again and again is "You keep thinkin' Butch. That's what yer good at" from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. I use it on Flannery alot when she spouts some hair brained idea that I just can't go along with.

5. I see on your profile that one of your interests is "the universe." Do you think that Pluto got the shaft...and do you believe that the decision to strip it of its planetary status will eventually destroy us all?

Yes, Pluto got the shaft, but I think it was from Goofy. Will it destroy us all? No. That's George Bush's job.

Thanks Beckeye, that was a hoot, even if it did take me all night to type it up. If you ever get to North-East Ohio, look me up. I'll take you to the Tiki Bar and the drinks are on me.

Doc

The Concept of Kipple

I learned of kipple when a buddy of mine gave me a copy of Philip K. Dick's novel "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" in the sixth grade. The film "Blade Runner" was in theaters and was based on this book. As I knew that this poor country boy was never going to see it in the theater, I accepted the book with many thanks and proceeded to tear through it. It warped me in a number of wonderful ways, and for a long time I would go back and reread it every year. I had to put a rubber band around it just to keep it together. Every Christmas I ask for a new copy as the old paperback finally disintegrated into kipple.

In the film there is a character named Sebastian, a brilliant engineer who helps design the replicants/androids and lives in a vacant apartment building. In the book the character is named J.R. Isidore, a man with limited intelligence who drives a fake ambulance to pick up and drop off electric pets that need repair, and he lives in a vacant apartment building. In the book Isidore explains kipple. Kipple is unwanted or useless objects, filth, rot, decay, or entropy. Kipple is invasive and self-reproducing. Isidore explains to the android Pris that the first law of kipple is "Kipple drives out nonkipple".

I think that may be one of the maxims of life. Life is about fighting back the kipple and trying to bring order to chaos, and driving out the it's degenerative forces. If you quit fighting the kipple, you die and are buried under it.

I thought of this today as I picked up the house. My two kids are fantastic kipple makers. As my Dad used to say "You could mess up a junkyard!", and I believe they could, the little scamps.

Then I got to thinking about fighting kipple. I can think of a few excellent warriors against kipple. The trashman who comes to my house every Wednesday for one. He takes my kipple and puts with it's own kind. Bubs over at Sprawling Ramshackle Compound for another. People can turn into living kipple and as a representative of the armed might of the state, he helps keep this human kipple off the street. Big Orange over at Frying Bacon is a warrior against kipple. He teaches kids how not to become human kipple, and how to use learning as a way to better themselves, and the rest of us how to keep the kipple from out of our heads with his regular feature of "God Talks". I'm sure even Evil Genius over at What I Like About The Universe does his part to fight kipple, although I couldn't cite examples just right here and now. Pezda does it with good cooking. GetkristiLove has been waging her own battle against kipple for about a year now. Cooper Green fights with one of the strongest weapons I can think of, humor. Chris combats it by designing new and better buildings, as well as shaving the cat. Megan joins him in his fight in much the same way I do.

May God bless you, one and all, for the fine work you have been doing.

I'm sure that I've left someone out but it was not intentional.

So tell me, how do you fight kipple? I look forward to your answers.

Doc