Friday, June 18, 2010

Focus, Pinky!

This blog, so far, has been a place where I just throw down some random thoughts and then go about my business. I haven't conformed to any sort of structure other than attempts to keep the title as vague or totally unrelated to the actual post as I can, and I really have no plans to change that. A very few posts have been sincere attempts at discussing writing, and I'm afraid that this particular blog may not be the best fit.

I've recently decided to start a new blog dedicated to writing (inspired by Ryan) so that I won't taint the inherent ridiculousness of the Klingon Freak Show. I can't promise to post on a regular basis at the moment, but the chances of frequent posting would probably increase based on feedback. It would be great if anyone felt like visiting--or even better, returning--to join in the discussion. A permanent link to Rather Clueless is in the right-hand column.

Check it out. I've already talked about poop.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

BP Blocking Media Access: New Orleans

At risk of turning this blog into a video dump, I decided I wanted to post this. I haven't been all that vocal about what's going on in that region so far. What can I really say that isn't already being said by, oh, just about everyone else.

Well, this video seems to say it all.



After watching this video, I realized that I can't recall very many times when I so absolutely wanted to see someone get punched right in the fucking mouth as I wanted to see that first "security" guard take a massive right hook and have a little sit down to think about things. Don't get me wrong; I'm all for dealing with the ignorant, even blatant anti-intellectuals, in a hands-off manner. In fact, I avoid them whenever possible. This is different. Someone like this needs to feel a little pain for being so stupid.

Here's my suggestion: it's time to cash in on our predisposed viewing habits AND public outrage, so let's televise these dumbasses getting punched when they act like this. It's obvious we prefer watching harm inflicted on people, whether it's real or simulated, as opposed to any sort of icky nipple slips or taboo sexuality we'd be embarrassed to have to explain to children (I mean, violence comes naturally enough to not require explanation, right?). So we keep the successful yet brain-numbing reality format and have a small group of people compete in a battery of physically demanding courses. The first people to be disqualified get the small fries, like punching this jackass who thinks he can justify his authority to keep people off the beach by saying that it's "the way it is." The winner gets to storm into the office of BP's CEO, Tony Hayward, cameras following behind to give that shaky action look from cop show busts, and punch that asshole right in the mouth for saying, "I'd like my life back," in response to the catastrophic ecological disaster his own company unleashed. There could be multiple seasons of this, because each one would be based upon each asinine statement he's let fly, so there's definitely some earning potential for whoever wants to pick this up and run with it. Of course American will watch it. It would even be the first reality program I'd watch--and that's saying a lot.

Think about it, any of you television moguls out there. It's time for the next logical step in reality programming. Call me.