Sibling Submission.

Dear GAG,
Okay, this is a question for anyone working at GAG that has a younger sibling: What is the best way to control your younger brother/sister into respectful submission?

~The unsuccessful Sibling

Dear unsuccessful, (I note the irregular capitalization there, very nice), as you may have noticed, we here at GAG have been in a sort of sibling tizzy as of late. And as such I believe it is a perfect time to end it by answering your question. And I shall do so very simply.

Firstly, bribery never works. Save your money for kids your not related to.

Secondly, memorize the location, weight and throwing range of every brick, pole, baseball bat, hockey stick, and cylindrical object in the house.

Third. Don't, under any circumstance, let your parents know you've read this.


-Space

Dear unsuccessful,

In addition to the above advice: I think it's inherently impossible to control a younger sibling into respectful submission. They have to choose to do it...or at least pretend to when said parents are around.
However, I do believe it's a part of their make up to be as annoying as humanly possible and to drive you crazy(er) in the fastest way possible.
In view of that: First: Try ignoring them.
Second: Take some sort of self-defense class and learn how to use any said previously memorized location of possible weapons in said house.
Third: Secretly order a zapper, tranquilizer, long rope or super soaker (if above methods don't work).
Fourth: Use said weapon on said sibling or hire someone discreet to use said weapon on said sibling (so if your parents do find out, you can say you didn't exactly do it.)
Fifth: Try pleading insanity if your parents do find out.
Sixth: I second and repeat: Don't, under any circumstance, let your parents know you've read this.

~ Aranel

The fine print: GAG is not legally or otherwise responsible for any actions you may or may not choose to take in light of given advice. Also GAG's advice is not guaranteed to work. GAG's advice may contain peanuts.

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

Sibling Rivalries

Dear Give A Gripe,

A certain younger sibling of mine and I are having a little disagreement, and I'm wondering what your thoughts on the matter are. Which would be more intellectual, relatively speaking? Is it a spazzy, beetle-headed doofus with the intellect of a cantelopue, or a spazzy beetle-headed doofus with the intellect of a dung beetle? I hope you can help resolve our little spat (or possibly make it worse.)

-Agent J.

Dear Agent J,
I would have to say that since you've already established that in either scenario, said person (assuming this certain little sibling), is beetle-headed, then calling him (or her) a dung beetle would be rather redundant, and therefore, a very lame comeback. Since the giver of the lame comeback must've been the spazzy beetle-headed doofus with the intellect of a canteloupe, that means that the dung beetle is more intellectual, by calling his (or her) opponent, not only a bug, but a rather large fruit. Brilliant.
Hopefully this has settled the argument, and will prevent any further silly sibling rivalries between the two of you.

Nay! I must disagree, my illogically-minded little friend. It is indeed the cantaloupe that is more intellectual! Firstly, it should be pointed out that the melon we in America commonly refer to as cantaloupes are indeed a completely different species from the actual thing. The real cantaloupe is a rare European genera, rarely found on our borders. Now then, we can extrapolate solely from that firstly that since true genius is rare, and actual cantaloupe is rare, we can directly correspond the two and come to the conclusion that cantaloupe itself is true genius! Secondly, to prove its genius, it has led us all on to believe that this other melon was it all the time! Meanwhile, the actual melon itself is off vacationing in the British Isles somewhere! Genius, I say!

...

Tyler. You are invading my post. The worst part of it is, You are wrong. Allow me to rebut.

1) Just because something is rare doesn't mean it is intelligent. In fact, it proves the opposite. The fact that real canteloupe can't figure out how to keep itself alive means that it lacks the intelligence necessary for basic survival. From what I know, dung beetles are still at large
2) Any fruit with half a brain who would have the chance to go anywhere in the world would NOT choose the British Isles as a vacation spot.
3) You're a silly fruitcake. Of course your going to side with the melon as opposed to accepting common sense.

Now that Tyler stands corrected...

I do NOT stand corrected! Nor do I sit corrected, nor lie in a prone position remotely corrected! Firstly, my dear incoherent hexapedophile, I fear you have your brain stuck a bit too far behind your antennae for once. One, rarity does not in any way shape or form mean borderline extinction. For example, there is only one Lindsay Lohan in the world, but clearly she is not borderli-- okay, bad example. The truth, however, my dear psychopathic pill bug, is that they are merely in hiding. And the fact that no one would go to the British Isles on vacation is exactly why they are there! Added genius! Thirdly, a brain does not automatically mean intelligence! The dung beetle, while apparently gaining the advantage in having an actual mind, has a mind completely obsessed with poop! If you call that intelligence, my friend, I'm afraid we'll have to look more closely at your psychologically stability, instead. Fourth and lastly, you are an insignificant part of the food chain, a proprietor of dung-heaps, you have no sense of fashion and you smell.

...

We've been colleagues on this site for a while now. Working with you is what proved a brain does not mean intelligence. I may be an insignificant part of the food chain, but at least I use adverbs correctly (psychologically stability?) So dung beetles have poo on their mind. What does canteloupe have on its mind? Wait! CANTELOUPES DONT HAVE MINDS!! JUST LIKE YOUUU!!!!!!

And I do NOT smell! 0^0

Precisely cantaloupes don't have minds! That is what gives them their sheer brilliance! No mental stress to keep them down, keeping them in a constant state of blissful nirvana... can you do that? I think NOT! And I'll have you know that that brain-removal operation was a very risky government-funded operation!

Only you'd know! Mushy fruit head!

Hard-headed arthropod!

Cucumis melobrain!

Ye-- Yeah? Oh yeah?! OH YEAH?!?!?! Well... *sniff* okay! *sob* *Sob*

...

*Breaks down crying*

Oh...

Oh, this is awkward.

There there, Tyler, take this tissue. It's ok, you're not a fruitcake. Now you go sit over there and have some ice cream.

Well, getting back to you, Agent J, essentially, my main point is that it is simply not worth getting into such petty sibling rivalries. In fact, I don't even remember what you were arguing about. That's how silly it was. And I can guarantee we here at GAG would never engage or endorse such behaviour.

"Oh, Tyler, stop your blubbering and eat your ice cream."

-GAG.