In Which I (Tyler) Rant:

Little Brothers Are Gifts From God. You have no idea how many times I hear people tell me that, and I must say that I agree. Little brothers are an extremely thoughtful gift from the Lord. They are proof that God loves us, and wants us to stay humble, alert, paranoid and irritable.

Let me explain.

Yesterday, my younger brother somehow sprains his ankle while playing in the back yard. I cannot for sure say whether or not this is actually true, firstly because I wasn't there, secondly because I have no medical aptitude to tell such things. Validity, notwithstanding, we patch him up, put an ace bandage on it and everything, and everything's fine. Or so it would seem... Not two hours later (an hour after bedtime, mind you, due to extremely fortuitous feats of timing), said little brothers comes into the living room with a roll of gauze, describing vividly to us the discomfort it's causing him that his "feet don't match," and that we should wrap the other one. My parents rebutted this plea (and I must be careful here, because they read this occasionally) with a simple, "I'm sorry, deary, but I'm afraid afterwards you won't be able to walk." Which was replied to with, "Oh yeeeeeaaah..."

And if you mind, allow me to digress for a moment (incidentally, if you're reading this and do mind if I digress, you're reading the entirely wrong blog), the combinations of the words "Oh," and "yeah," coming from an eight year old mouth is, to parents, the deadliest utterance known to man. If executed properly, it instantly erases all memory of innocent mistake or wrongdoing, replaced solely by the sensation of utter cuteness in the child. And furthermore, the primal urge to give said child anything his little heart desires. Such as: A drink (Which takes forty-two minutes to substantially "sip"), a story (Which takes anywhere from fifteen to fifty-four minutes depending on how many times the parent falls for "read it again, mommy!"), a hug (which turns into a cuddle, which turns into watching television/listening to the radio/reading a book depending on the parent's activity, a good forty minutes in and of itself) or, as my brother so eloquently introduced, medical attention (a swift thirty-six minutes).

The purpose of that digression in fact leads to the summary of the current digression: Little kids (particularly brothers and particularly mine) get away with anything in the name of attention. Particularly getting out of bedtime, so said sibling may watch TV, etc., and therefore stay up substantially later than a little body should, and therefore wake up substantially later as well, causing everyone else to be late, miserable, grumpy, and completely prepared for it happening again that night.

May I also add that younger brothers are masters of the art of fooling everyone but the people they don't have to listen to.

So next time someone tells you that a little brother is a gift from God, laugh in their face and run into the setting sun, because you have to babysit.


On a side note, just listened to "Clint Eastwood" by The Gorillaz again. Turns out it's not actually about Clint Eastwood. Go figure.


-Space

A Valentines Day Crisis

Greetings Readers,

Some of you may have been aware that yesterday was Valentines Day. You probably either heard about it from your nagging girlfriend, the nasty-smelling boy who sits next to you in Geometry and told you in a little card he made out of kleenex and red crayon, or by joining the G-talk Anti-Valentines Day club, where G-talkers all over Jeana's buddy list changed their avatars to the fallen cupid with an arrow protruding from his back.

While some of you were out with your sweethearts, or little siblings, depending on your social status, I was at Touche speech class, discovering a horrible truth about one of the most popular icons of Valentines Day.

The NECCO company boasts "Fine Candy Since 1847" and is the manufacturer of the well known "Conversation hearts" frequently seen, read, eaten, and spit out on Valentines Day.

These were being served as part of snack at speech class. I was in the middle of telling a friend that they tasted like chalk when I picked one up, and looked at it to read the message.

"Sweet Talk"

My friend jokingly suggested that I find a chalkboard to see if my theory was true. Well, there was no chalkboard nearby, but there was a little bit of sidewalk in the courtyard, so I hopped over to it to test my hypothesis.

Alas! I was able to write my name in clear letters as if writing with a chalk stick! That's when it hit me.

Millions of children ever since 1849 have been taking one day a year and stuffing themselves full of calcium carbonate, and NECCO hasn't been held accountable for it. We might as well be feeding our children limestone, or marble. Heck! Why not start making conversation hearts out of coal? It's a lot cheaper and equally nutritious.

This second half of my gripe against NECCO is more political than medical. On their website, they advertise new conversation heart sayings for 2007.

They are:

"My pet"

"Bear hug"

"Go fish"

"Love Bird"

"Take a Walk"

"Purr Fect"

"Cool Cat"

"Top Dog"

"Puppy Love"

"Ura Tiger"

Is it just me or is there a pattern here? All of those sayings have something to do with animals. Clearly we can see that NECCO is anthropomorphizing animals and putting them at an equal value as humans. Since these are, in fact, "conversation hearts", the new sayings suggest that we should be having said conversations with our animals on Valentines Day. Not only that, but the conversation hearts are no more than pet food!

So this message is for you, NECCO. If you don't ban your products from the market, at least put warnings on the hearts themselves as to the risks your victims are in for. Feel free to use your little grammatically incorrect abbreviations

"C Doctor B4 Eating"

"Y Not Veggies?"

"I Am Chalk!"

"Dog Food"

"DONT EAT ME!"

You better watch your back, NECCO, we're on to you.

And as for saving the lives of Valentine-goers '08...You're welcome

~Hol

Have a....uuh....a good Christmas.

It's Christmas time again. I love Christmas time. It is a time to celebrate the birth of our saviour, despite the ACLU's attempts to nullify our salvation.

Some other things I love about Christmas is the music. Of all the genres of music, Christmas music is probably the most satisfying to me. My radio is currently turned to KZST, which during this season plays all Christmas music. Good stuff.

There is one song that is played rather frequently on KZST. It always starts rather suddenly with the enthusiastic voice of Alan Jackson yodeling through the boombox. The song I speak of is entitled "Holly Jolly Christmas"

The song itself makes absolutely no sense at all. Let's take a closer look...

Have a holly jolly Christmas

What exactly is a 'holly jolly' Christmas? Ok, well I'm inherently going to have a 'holly jolly' Christmas. I have one every year. Not only that, I have a Holly jolly Thanksgiving and a Holly jolly 4th of July and a Holly jolly Hannukah...but what of everyone else? Unfortunately, not everyone can be me for Christmas. They'll have to settle for just a plain ol' 'jolly' Christmas.

It's the best time of the year

Totally subjective. Jews, Jehovahs witnesses and the ACLU don't even celebrate Christmas, why should this time of the year be better than any other for them?

Well I don't know if there'll be snow

Welcome to my city. You, in fact, do know there will never be snow.

But have a cup of cheer

Cheer is abstract. It is not tangible. You can't put it in a cup any more than you can put love, dreams, remorse or music in a cup. You can't drink it either, cheer has most definitely not been approved by the FDA...

Have a holly jolly Christmas
And when you walk down the street

You should be inside on Christmas. Inside with your family. What are you doing on the street?

Say hello to friends you know

That's not fair. What about friends that I don't know? And what are my friends doing on the street?

And everyone you meet

Mommy said never talk to strangers...

Ho ho the mistletoe
Hung where you can see
Somebody waits for you
Kiss her once for me

Eeeh...First of all, I don't think anyone will wait for me under mistletoe. Those who know me well enough would know I would never comply to such behavior, and those who don't know me....well...would certainly not be waiting under mistletoe for me. Aside from that, I highly doubt someone waiting for me under mistletoe would be a her.
And who is 'you' anyway? Kiss your own, I'm not doing it for you.

Have a holly jolly Christmas
And in case you didn't hear

I heard. It's at the beginning of every verse. How could I not have heard?

Oh bygolly have a holly jolly Christmas This year

Well readers, you heard the guy. I hope you all have a holly jolly Christmas...

Or...whatever your name is.

-Hol

Misquotation and You

"Any persons attempting to find a plot, theme, or moral in this narrative will be shot and hanged."
-Mark Twain.

Misquoting is a common problem in large crowds. People attempting to sound cool or knowledgeable, will often, out of the blue, grasp for the nearest piece of media-related intellectual stimuli that may be excepted in the current company, and quote it.

The problem with this is that it, while still sounding perfectly fine to the untrained ear, comes out wrong. For example, "All the rum's gone! WHY?" sounds fine, yet is still wrong. In the context it is, it retains a completely different thematic value, if you will, than the actual correct phrase.

Most people, however, really don't seem to mind this, and go on doing it themselves. Some even do it on purpose.
This, then, leads to a fantastically quaint little theory:

Misquotation is actually a sign of a larger intellect.

The pleasant mat of the factor is that some people are just so widely-read, brains constantly buzzing with interesting conversation, obviously mixing itself and becoming so confusing that they can't help but misquote someone! And company is simply forced to accept whatever they say, no matter how foolish, from a social disease commonly called "peer pressure," which is believed to be a symptom of "highschoolitis." Due to which, no one ever asks if the quote is right or wrong or not, or what movie it's from, for fear of not being as simply well-versed as the benefactor.

So there you have it.

"I am your humble servant and I refuse."

-Buttercup.

Better a bird in the hand than two that are stoned.

Cliches.

Trite, overused, in some cases cheesy, but have still successfully managed to permeate the English language like the Bubonic plague.

Most importantly, cliches are analogies that people can relate to or picture easily in order to address a given situation on a smaller scale. They make saying profound statements, encouragements, or words of wisdom as easy as pie.

Gah.

Now that I have set the precedent for cliches, I'd like to address one that comes to mind that violates the most important ethical standard of them.

"Kill two birds with one stone"

Definitely trite and overused. But relateable? I think not.

The accepted meaning of this cliche deals with economy and efficiency. If you can do one thing, and in that process accomplish two things, then the one thing was an efficient use of your time. The American way. The less you have to do to get the most out of it, the better. This sets the precedent of laziness and short-cutting through work. Doing as little as possible and gaining more than you earned. Fiendish! But actually, quite efficient. Especially when homework is concerned...
Let's move on to the context of the cliche, rather than the underlying meaning.
If you've ever tried killing one bird with one stone, you'd probably find it very hard, and a big time waster. Killing two one the same shot? Bah!
First of all, what would be the point? If you could find a type of bird small enough that you could actually kill two of them easily with one stone, they would have to be too small to eat or too cute to kill. God punishes those who kill cute animals that you can't eat. The only birds that are useful to kill are the larger, edible type. I can assure you that throwing rocks at large fowl is not how the pilgrims got their first Thanksgiving dinner. Everyone knows that the pilgrims used bazookas.
Second of all, even if there was a point to killing little birds with rocks, there is no way you could throw a rock in a straight line and expect that the strength of your throw would be powerful enough to kill two birds, even assuming you could actually hit them without them flying away first. If the rock was heavy enough to kill a bird, you probably couldn't throw it hard or fast enough. If it was light enough for a fast, good throw, it probably won't kill the bird ESPECIALLY not two of them. It's a lose/lose situation for you, and a win/win for the birds. Not very efficient to me.
A better phrasing might be "Nail all the birds with one missil" That'd definitely be a more efficient de-birdinator for the more animal and environment indifferent.

So if anyone tells you that if you do something for them, you'll 'kill two birds with one stone', remember what I have said, and run for your life.

Disclaimer: I do not necessarily condone shooting birds with missils. If anyone attempts this who perchance read this post, I am not responsible for the damages. Any lawsuits will be directed to the back, where they will promptly be shot. Thank you.