Children Use Their Fingers Instead Of Words
On a fine summer's afternoon in 1979, one of my our neighbors, Mr.
Lewes, suffered a sort of "break down", stripped down to his BVD's,
painted himself with a brown war paint (yes, the "homemade" kind), and
interrupted a Little League game by running onto the field during the
fifth inning screaming "". Sadly, his attempt to create the greatest
mixed sports metaphor ever by tackling an outfielder who had egged his
home a few nights earlier was thwarted by a group of (understandably)
angry parents.
While the rest of the neighbor expressed horrified dismay at Mr. Lewes'
sudden departure from the path of normality/sanity/not smearing one's
self with feces (for, up until this point, he'd been considered a pillar
of the community), the Anonymous clan greatly appreciated Mr. Lewes's
shift in direction and, after his release for sate custody, became quite
close to him. It wasn't so much what he did that impressed us; it
was more the fact that he had been one person and then, instantly - without
warning - became another. Truth be told, we would have been equally
impressed had he started out a raving poop-covered maniac and then suddenly
transformed himself into an upright citizen.
Since the moment when the news of Mr. Lewes' fifth inning rampage reached
my ears, I've been fascinated by sudden changes in direction. For example,
did you know that you can use your car's emergency break and your own
fear of incarceration to perform a 180 degree turn? This maneuver is known
as a "bootlegger reverse". I know this, not form any secret devotion to
the Film Noir masterpiece Smokey and the Bandit IV: Bound for Glory…
Holes, but from my Geekish love of role playing games (which I will
never, ever speak of again). It was during the arduous recording sessions
for Beelzebubba (well, arduous for everybody else involved. I basically
just hung around indulging in role playing games which I refuse to speak
about) that I became obsessed with a game called Car Wars (AKA "Why Can't
Johnny Speed?"). According to the Car Wars manual, the bootlegger reverse
was an extremely hazardous strategy to employ and should only be attempted
in the direst of circumstances. Although I've never gotten the chance to
try performing a bootlegger reverse in real life, I did attempt it once
in the paper and cardboard world of Car Wars (Hey, I was sniped at by two
motorcyclists and Joe had just rounded the corner with his "Killer RV").
The result: my car ("Vlad the Impala") blew three tires, flipped, and
burst into flames. Now you know why I've never tried a bootlegger reverse
in real life.
If I were to ever find myself in a real life flipping and burning vehicle,
I hope that vehicle is a trash truck because, let's be honest, nothing
could possibly be cooler than a burning airborne trash truck. I don't know
if trash trucks have CD player in their cabs or not, but the song I'd like
to be playing as I meet my fiery demise would be Christian Death's
Spiritual Cramp. As a matter of fact, I keep that song queued up
on my Sony Minidisk (the most inferior of all mp3 players) just in case
I find myself in a situation likely to result in grisly death. I just hope
I have time to pop on my head phones and take full advantage of the
situation.
By the way, in 1990, Steve Jackson Games, the makers of Car Wars had their
Austin (coincidently, where Beelzebubba was recorded) offices raided by
armed agents of the US Secret Service. Why would the Secret Service bother
to raid the office of a company that made games? The folks at SJG wondered
the same thing. And it only took them eight months to get an answer. That
answer was "Guilt by Association".
As it turned out, a SJG employee by the name of Loyd Blankenship (which is
only one letter away from being "Lord Blankenship" - which had to be some
Geek's D&D name) had been doing research for a new game about hackers which
necessitated some fact-checking with computer security experts as well is
fourteen-year-old kids who were using their Commodore 64's to try to take
a peek inside the computer systems of Americas larger financial
institutions. Loyd also ran a perfectly legal BBS on which the "computer
underground" was occasionally discussed. Somehow the combination of these
two activities, plus the fact that he had once received a copy of
/Phrack put Lord Blankenship of the Wood Elves on some
double-secret Federal Shit List. So why was SJG raided? After all, why
the Feds nabbed Timothy McVeigh they didn't go toss whatever Gay club
he was stripping at. Well, it seems that Loyd had used the SJG's BBS
(not surprising, since he fuckin' worked there!) …known as the
Illuminati BBS (Shit Luther, those Secret Service guys must've
ruined their Sans-A-Belt slacks when they saw that word. "Jenkins, get
in here! Hurry; we've finally got a lead on those "Gnomes of Zurich" that
Mel Gibson's dad is always writing us about.")
The Man not only walked out of SJG with Lord Blankenship of the Shire
Folk, but also four computers (one of which was used to run the Illuminati
BBS ), two laser printers, and a couple of hard disks to boot. Oh, I
almost forgot the best part! During the raid, the Super Secret Service
stumbled upon the manual for a game called GURPS Cyberpunk, which
the Boys in the Blue Suits later deemed "a handbook for computer crime"
despite the fact the game takes place in the future using technology that
doesn't exist. Talk about your pro-active crime fighting. This helps to
explain why the US Government didn't see the 9/11 attacks coming why in
advance: Osama bin Laden wasn't working for a small gaming company in
Texas.
Of course SGJ sued the government and in 1993 they were awarded over
$50,000 in damages and over $250,000 in legal fees. Just remember that
this all went down long before the PATRIOT Act was passed. Today,
Lord Blankenship would be rolling his eight-sided dice in a secret prison
in the wilds of northern Romania.
My original intention (other than to make a mint off selling t-shirts) when
I started RATYHTL was that this site would constantly be shifting
direction. I wanted to spend a month on literature, then a month on books,
then films, etc. The next step in my plan was then to accelerate the
shifting of RATYHTL's focus on a weekly and, eventually, daily basis. My
hope was to, some day, get to the point where I'd be posting pieces that
kept shifting direction: a piece which started out about the Pre-Raphaelite
Brotherhood would suddenly morph into a meditation on biker gangs and end
as a summation of the mating habits of South American jaguars.
Unfortunately, that sort of writing is known as "Spiral Composition", and
it can take years to master; that's why I've never even attempted it.
Lately, as you may have noticed, I've been spending a great deal (too
much?) of time attacking Fundies, Right Wingers, Intelligent Design
advocates, Right Wing Intelligent Design advocates, Right Wing Fundies,
Fundie Intelligent Design advocates, and Michelle Malkin (who is, of
course, a Right Wing, Fundie, Intelligent Design advocate). While I've
gotten pretty good at it, I realize that these pieces can become tiresome
for my readership (both of you). Today, as a refreshing change of pace,
I had planned to do a piece aimed at helping you, gentle reader, debunk
a belief system that is often held in high regard by New Age Hippie types.
Sadly, in order to get there, I must start off with a few words about
Fundies, Right Wingers, Intelligent Design, and Michelle Malkin.
On Monday, Paul Mirecki, professor Kansas University, told the police that
he'd been beaten by two men along a rural roadside. Normally, the beating
of a college professor by a couple of townies wouldn't concern us (Hell,
I've I'd a few profs whom I would've loved to have seen slapped silly by
the local cast of Hee Haw); however, Mirecki had recently posted his
intentions, online, of developing a course which would teach Intelligent
Design as mythology. Which, in the Living Dangerously department is just
two steps below announcing that you'll be giving a seminar entitled
"Mike + Tyson = Fag". And, as if to up the danger level, Professor Paul
added that the class would be a "nice slap" "big fat face" of
fundamentalists.
Malkin, naturally, thinks that Mirecki may've faked the whole thing (only
Malkin could be suspicious of ever potential Hate Crime, yet consider
every weeping sataue of the Virgin Mary to be a miracle). While Malkin
remains an unseemly cunt, she may actually have a point. There is quite
an extensive history of people faking Hate Crimes. On the other hand, if
two guys are going to beat the living shit out of you along a rural
Kansas (a redundancy?) road, the odds pretty gawdamn good that they're
gonna have a "Bush '04" bumper sticker on the back of their pickup.
On Wednesday night I found myself discussing the Mirecki beating with a
friend of my wife (My theory is that Professor Paul was attacked by Col.
Mustard in the library with a wrench) when the conversation moved on to
a discussion about Intelligent Design in general. "I don't understand how
people can not believe in Evolution despite the mountain of evidence,"
my wife's friend said, and I heartily concurred. A few sentences later,
my wife's friend did a bootlegger reverse away from the rational and
started talking about how she believed in Astrology. Disturbing as it was,
I had to admire this sudden about-face on its artistic merits: but that
still wasn't going to stop me from arguing with her.
"Um, you are aware that there is no possible way that the position of the
stars at the moment of your birth could affect your life? " I said. "I
mean, I wasn't there, but it's a pretty safe assumption that you were born
in a hospital. It's not like the light from those stars could reach you."
"What about their gravitational effect?" Vienna's friend protested.
I was ready for that one. "The gravitational effect of the Obstetrician
would've been billions of times greater than the gravitational effect of
even the nearest star: unless, of course, that star is John Goodman", I
rather wittily retorted.
"Well, I simply refuse to believe that", said my wife's friend
doing exactly what Fundies do when you show 'em a fossilized Archaeopteryx[Any professor of Paleontology who makes a "joke" about the Archaeopteryx
getting the worm should be beaten along a rural Kansas roadside.]
If you're like me, you love to argue. The problem is that, while you
might have all the facts which you need to devastate your opponent in
your head, sometimes it helps to have something physical with which to
administer the coup de grace: like that scene in Annie Hall wherein
Woody Allen suddenly produces Marshall McLuhan. Well, that's my goal:
to start providing you with a few facts that you can copy, paste, print
and carry around in your wallet, purse, or fag bag and have at your
fingertips the next time you find yourself engaged in a heated debate.
1. Why is your Astrological sign determined by the date of your birth and
not your conception? Is it because your mother's womb "protected" you from
the "effects" of the stars and planets? If so, aren't the walls around you
doing the same thing right now?
2. The Gravity Thing: The combined gravitational effect from all of
the planets in our solar system is a very, very tiny fraction of that of
the Moon's. If gravity is the driving force behind Astrology (instead of
ignorance), then the Moon would supercede all the planets combined in every
horoscope ever published: which I doesn't.
3. In the late 90's it was proven that there where planets orbiting distant
stars in other solar systems. Why didn't Astrologers predict this
discovery? Seriously, if the planets affect our behavior, then how come
not one single asshat Astrologer stepped up to the mic and said "I've been
find some anomalies in my research that can only be explained by planets
in other solar systems"?
4. Since twins are born within minutes of each other, it stands to reason
that they'd have similar, if not exactly the same, horoscopes; right? Then
what about Jesse Aron Presley? * He died at birth while his brother, Elvis,
went on to become the King of Rock, Roll, 'n' Prescription Medication.
[Phun Philly Phact: I not only share my birthday with Dean Clean, Mr. T,
and Morrissey (Dean is a nice guy with a wife and child. I'm not a very
nice guy with a wife. Mr. T is, well, Mr. T, and Morrissey…ah, it's too
easy) , but I was also born on the very same day as Jeffrey Dahmer and I'm
not Gay and only have a passing interest in Cannibalism.]
5. A member of the Kansas City Committee for Skeptical Inquiry (which is
now defunct because…well, they were skeptics in Kansas - do the math)
provided five Astrologers with what he told them was his birth date, birth
time, and place of birth but was actually the stats for John Wayne Gacy.
Then, as the icing on the cake, the skeptic told the Astrologers that he
was "interested in working with young people." All five of the Astrologers
vigorously encouraged him to pursue youth work.
There, that should do it. If you can't wing an argument with those five
points then you're obviously debating a lunatic. If you can think of any
more mini-debunking kits you'd like to see (I've got a few upcoming ones
planned for our old friends Intelligent Design and "This country was
founded by Christians" as well as some new friends like "Women's Issues"
and "Psychic Phenomena"), be sure to email me.
Special thanks to Bad Astronomy.com
* holy shit, what a great link! Jesse Aron Lives!
Rodney on 12.10.05 @ 06:57 PM EST [link] [No Comments]
Last night, it was brought to my attention that I'd sent an ecard out to
Hey there drunken hooligans and 
