Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

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I Don’t Know What The Weather Might Do

March 14, 2017 / / 7 Comments

A question for the Enthusiasts:

What country has the widest single-day weather variation?

As you know, the Northeast is socked in today due to a winter storm that is not officially named Stella, but Fillmore South has had the AC blasting all day: the thermometer hit 80 here for an hour or so. It is simultaneously arctic and tropical in America today; no matter what type of skiing you enjoy, you could do it on March 14th.

(And I’m only counting the mainland. No territories or holdings or military outposts. Guam’s weather does not count towards America’s total. And y’know what? Alaska and Hawaii are out, too. Alaska and Hawaii and fake states. I like states that are contiguous, okay?

Don’t do that.

Dude, I’m in a parenthetical aside. You can’t come in here. This is my dojo.

Dojos aren’t built out of punctuation.

What about commakazis?

You’re a lousy, rotten son of a bitch.

Get out.

Get back to the point.

Fine.)

But where else? The key is the north-south axis–you need about a thousand miles or so of latitudinal coverage–but global placement matters, too. Canada stretches up towards the North Pole for almost 40 degrees of latitude, but starts up too high for huge swings. (Canadian Enthusiasts may tell me I’m wrong in the Comment Section, or they could just be nice about it and agree with me, and perhaps tell me I’m pretty and special.)

I posed the question to the Champion of Cascadia, Mr. Completely, and he came up with Chile and fuck me if his answer didn’t beat mine: Chile’s 2,600 miles from top to bottom, even though it’s only 25 feet wide at certain points. Chile is a bit drier than the States, though: the northern part is the Atacama (the world’s desertiest desert) and the southern tip is tundra. Reindeer could live there quite comfortably, especially because of the low cost of living.

Russia also has a long north-south span, but it’s got Canada’s problem of being too far up on the globe. Look at this bullshit:

That’s where Santa lives, for Christ’s sake. (Or, lived. Putin had Santa poisoned.) Little bits by the Black Sea supposedly have a subtropical climate, but I don’t buy it. Can’t fool me, Russia: you’re cold as a grinch’s dick everywhere and all the time.

And, of course, China. China is so large that all the weather happens there every single day: typhoon, blizzard, mostly sunny with a few puffy clouds, all the weather. China has places where it’s never rained, and places where it’s never not rained. Frogs fall from the sky regularly; they are immediately eaten, as the Chinese will eat absolutely anything up to and including skyfrogs.

What am I missing?

Do’s And Don’ts For Your Asshole

March 14, 2017 / / 3 Comments

“Rectally is actually a lot more preferred because of the volume of absorption,” Kogan told CBC. “You can put a lot more and [the THC] gets absorbed a lot better, but not everybody is open to this way of administration.” – High Times, 3/8/17

What belongs in your butt?

  • Pre-pooped poop.
  • A body part that you and your partner (or partners) have agreed on beforehand.
  • Properly greased-up marital aids.
  • Rabbit. (Magicians only.)
  • Medical device administered by a trained health professional in a professional setting.

What doesn’t belong in your butt?

  • Everything else.

Feminism: An FAQ

March 13, 2017 / / 5 Comments

You’re just straight-up asking the internet to call you an asshole.

The internet is reasonable and sane, plus this is a national conversation that needs the input of another man.

You’re gonna fuck this up.

You’re just saying that based on my track record. Get started.

Sure. What is feminism?

Depends on whom you ask.

What if I asked the dictionary?

You would get no response; a dictionary is a book.

Stop it.

Hey, man: a dictionary contains all of English, but a dictionary can’t speak English. ISN’T THAT TRIPPY?

…

Webster’s says that feminism is “the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes” or “organized activity on behalf of women’s rights and interests.”

Okay, so: pretend I’m an alien. Why did–

Wait, you’re not an alien?

No. Of course not.

I thought you were, like, the Martian anthropologist.

I am a human being.

Then what’s with the antennae?

Those are skin tags. May we continue?

Sure, yeah.

Pretend I’m an alien.

“Pretend.”

Why would women need to fight for equality or organize for their rights?

Because they weren’t equal and had fewer rights.

In America or everywhere?

Everywhere that progressed past basic agriculture and hunting/gathering lifestyles. Once you leave the village for the city: whammo, women aren’t people anymore. All the monotheistic religions. And the polytheistic ones, too. If there were any religions that used a quantity of gods other than “one” or “many,” then they would have fucked women over, too.

Why?

Men are bigger and stronger than women. Men can beat women up.

That surely can’t be the explanation.

It’s not the explanation. The explanation is that women were mentally inferior, or that they had fragile constitutions, or they trusted a snake, or they were unclean, or that thinking for themselves just wasn’t in a gal’s nature. Lots more explanations, too. But the reason? The reason men were (and are) in charge is because they’re bigger and stronger, and they can beat women up.

How long did this go on for?

Forever. All of western civilization.

Even Athens?

Oh, yeah, enlightened and progressive Athens. Women couldn’t leave the fucking house in Athens, and if they did they wore whatever the Ancient Greek word for burka is. Democracy was for dudes. And then republics were for dudes, and then empires, and then monarchy, and then democracy again. Full circle until the 1800’s

What happened in the 1800’s?

So much.

What happened in the 1800’s vis-a-vis feminism?

It got its start, at least formally. French guy named it.

Typical.

This was the First Wave of feminism.

Is that like the New Wave of British Heavy Metal?

No.

Ah.

First Wave feminism was intertwined (at least in the States) with abolition and temperance and focused on suffrage. Ladies wanted to get their vote on.

How long did it take for women to get the vote?

Well, the American feminist movement started–according to scholars and such–in 1848 at a convention in Seneca Falls, NY.

1870? 1880?

1910 1920.

Wow.

Yeah. Anyway, after that you had the Second Wave, which was concerned with women’s health, sexual freedom, bodily autonomy, that sort of thing.

Seems a little frivolous compared to the First Wave.

How often you think about your dick?

Constantly.

Right. Straight white males can do anything they want with their dicks. Everybody else had laws about their dicks, or–in women’s case–their ladydicks.

Can’t take your dick out at the Foot Locker.

Don’t argue from the margins; that’s a good law. The Second Wave feminists were also about reproductive rights. Abortion, birth control, that sort of thing.

There are many opinions on abortion and birth control.

There are many opinions on disco dancing.

That’s a non sequitur.

So was what you said. When women can decide how many babies they want to have, all of society benefits.

What else did the Second Wave do?

Ms.

What?

New pronoun. Ms. As opposed to Miss and Mrs.

Why do we have two different pronouns for that?

To let everyone know whether the woman belongs to her father or her husband.

Oh.

Yeah, society’s shittiness is baked into its language. Then, in the 90’s, you had the beginnings of Third Wave feminism.

What’s that?

Cultural stuff, workplace equality, sexual stuff. Privilege, patriarchy, and rape culture. Plus, the Third Wave of feminists discovered that there were women who were not white.

Nice of them. Wait, what’s rape culture?

Men used to get away with rape all the time.

That’s terrible.

Its better now. They only get away with it most of the time.

Yay, progress. I don’t understand something.

What?

Most of this seems like common sense. Treating everyone equally is a no-brainer.

And that’s who’s against it: no-brainers.

Who’s against feminism?

Religious assholes and irreligious assholes. Pope Francis and Ann Coulter.

Don’t you love Pope Francis?

I ignore his actual beliefs because he has a lovely smile.

Fair. Wait, Ann Coulter? She’s a woman.

I’ve never seen her birth certificate, but I’ll take your word for it. Yeah, plenty of women are anti-feminism right until they’re not. For example, there was a woman named Andrea Tantaros that used to work for Fox News. She wrote a whole book about how modern women didn’t need feminism.

I’m sensing there’s more to this.

There is. She filed a sexual harassment lawsuit against Fox News.

Oh, is harassing a woman an actionable offense?

Fuck, yeah.

Did men pass that law without being prompted?

Fuck, no. Feminists did that. One of the problems is that conservatives are great at throwing shit onto a word until no one wants it hanging around their neck. Progressives used to be “liberals” until Reagan got ahold of the term.

And that’s what’s happened with “feminist?”

A little bit. Its detractors–and by “detractors,” I mean “people who fucking hate women”–have misrepresented feminists as man-haters, and cribbed all their straw-men from the violent fringe.

Feminism has a violent fringe?

Every ism has a violent fringe. Feminist tried to assassinate Andy Warhol.

Why?

What is it about “violent fringe” that you’re not understanding? Every group has its wackadoodles, but you don’t judge the essential philosophy by the nutcakes.

And what is the essential philosophy of feminism?

There should be legal and cultural equality between the sexes.

It really does seem reasonable.

You’d think.

Balloon Boys (And Mrs. Donna Jean)

March 13, 2017 / / 2 Comments

Maybe it was just the ossification of habit, but Brent was always stage left. Keith was left, right, sometimes in the middle, once he was by the merch table.

OR

“Don’t you do it, Weir.”

“What?”

“Step on a balloon.”

“You saw my leg?”

“I saw your leg, man.”

…

“Hey, Jer.”

“Ah, shit.”

“Y’know, it’s New Year’s Eve.”

“Every fuckin’ year.”

“That means, uh, that this is the anniversary of our friendship.”

“Great, man. Play the song.”

“I got you a little something.”

“You really shouldn’t have.”

“Here ya go, Jer.”

“You went to Jared.”

“I did, yeah.”

“Is this a tennis bracelet?”

“Better. Anklet.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

OR

Later that evening, Mrs. Donna Jean (already in her ceremonial gown) would be thrown into the volcano to appease Gbaja-biamila, the god of backup singing.

Stella Blew

March 13, 2017 / / 2 Comments

The Northeast of the country is facing a large storm tonight; the Weather Channel will tell you that its name is Stella, but the Weather Channel is staffed by deceivers and the low. Winter storms don’t have names. Hurricanes have names.

This is a pet peeve of yours.

I also become irritated when people use “decimate” incorrectly.

Please just continue.

YOU MUST BE SAFE, ENTHUSIASTS! For I love you so, and will be so worried for you even though it’s gonna be 82 and sunny here tomorrow. A little common sense can go a long way, but so can advice from an expert; luckily, TotD is an expert in many things.

Tips For The Blizzard:

  1. Bread, milk, and batteries. (Unless you are gluten-free, lactose-intolerant, and Amish. And if you’re Amish, you certainly do not need my advice on making it through the winter. Amish people have that kind of shit on lockdown.)
  2. The best way to get a foot-high shelf of ice and snow off the roof of your car is to get out onto the highway: after a few miles, the sucker just flies right off. Easy-peasy.
  3. Speaking of cars, if you have four-wheel drive, then you can go as fast as you want even if the roads are icy.
  4. Some dogs (huskies, malamutes) will enjoy playing outside during the storm; other dogs (greyhounds) will die if you even tell them that it’s snowing.
  5. If you drink enough, you don’t need a coat.
  6. TotD’s recipe for a snow-free driveway: paint-sprayer filled with propane, match.
  7. One of the real dangers of a storm like this is cracking pipes, leading to gas leaks. The only way to absolutely know that you don’t have a gas leak is to leave the gas on full blast; if the pipes break, then you’ll hear a reduction of volume in the PSSSSSHHH sound.
  8. If the power goes out, you may be forced to talk to your family. Suggested topics:
    1. Politics.
    2. How disappointed in them you are.
    3. Mom’s ex-boyfriends.
    4. The human-shaped patch of grass in the backyard where nothing grows.
    5. What you meant when you said that thing that time.
    6. Well, you said it.
    7. I just want to know what you meant by it, Ellen.
    8. Did I mishear you?
    9. Was it my fault LIKE EVERYTHING ELSE, ELLEN?
    10. NO, I WILL NOT STOP SCREAMING IN FRONT OF THE CHILDREN! SHUT UP, JACEN! STOP CRYING, CAJUN!”
    11. The counseling didn’t work because you fucked the therapist, Ellen.
    12. Kids, Mommy’s a whore.
    13. JACEN! CAJUN! STOP FUCKING CRYING!

And so on. (Ellen deserves better than that guy, honestly.)

Fun Facts About Daylight Savings Time

March 12, 2017 / / 8 Comments
  • Kills upwards of 30,000 people annually.
  • If you are on submarine or aircraft carrier, then DST does not apply to you but it does to your family back in the States; they are now an hour older than you.
  • The only appropriate joke related to turning the clocks forward was written by Garry Shandling, and may be told on Sunday morning: “Last night, I made love for an hour and three minutes.”
  • Daylight Savings Time either was or still is practiced everywhere in the world but the middle part of Africa.
  • China tried it for six years.
  • You can only get away with that kind of bullshit in a totalitarian society; democracies take forever to fix mistakes.
  • (Can you imagine the American government trying to introduce DST today? It would be denounced as a Deep State false flag operation to let the NSA reset the timestream after an accident with a Stargate.)
  • Do Daylight Savings Time and Standard Time ever stare at each other from six month’s distance and wonder?
  • If a train leaves Chicago traveling at 320 mph, then something has gone horribly wrong, and we should abandon our hypothetical equation to help the survivors. (There will most certainly be no survivors.)
  • Most of our clocks add the hour on their own nowadays–which is in nooooo way creepy–but there used to be at least one timepiece in every house that was an hour off for six months a year: either it was a clock in an inaccessible place, or it was the readout on the VCR or thermostat that no one knew how to reset.
  • Every state but Arizona and Hawaii observe Daylight Savings Time: Arizona has no need for another hour of sunlight, and Hawaii is an island in the middle of the Pacific.
  • For a long time, though, states could opt in and out and choose their own start dates.
  • One time Minneapolis and St. Paul got into a fight about when DST should begin; the argument was settled via a Battle of the Bands, and the losing town purified itself in the waters of Lake Minnetonka.
  • And finally: it’s just fucking weird that we let the government tell us what time it is.
  • “America.”
  • …
  • “Hey, America.”
  • “Who are you?”
  • “The government.”
  • “Ugh.”
  • “Understandable.”
  • “Why are you in my bedroom?”
  • “The Supreme Court has ruled that Americans have no expectation to total privacy in their bedrooms with the doors locked in the middle of the night.”
  • “Dude, it’s two in the morning.
  • “No, it’s three.”
  • “I’m looking at my clock.”
  • “While you’re looking, couldja roll that bad boy ahead an hour for me?”
  • “Why?”
  • “Farmers? Ben Franklin? I dunno, something. I’m sure that someone writes a detailed article about its history every year, but I’ll be fucked if I can be bothered. Now turn your clock ahead or I’ll shoot you with a gun made out of eagles and big hats.”
  • This year, the government has asked us to turn our clocks ahead one hour, and our calendars back one hundred years.

True’s Story

March 12, 2017 / / 2 Comments

Hey.

“Yo.”

You’re a True’s beaked whale.

“Both of us are, I guess.”

I just wanna talk to one of you. Let’s say you’re on the right.

“Whose right?”

Don’t do that.

“Sure. Now, uh, what are you?”

Me? Human, mostly.

“Wow. Never seen one of you alive before. Sometimes your corpses wash in, so we’ve been able to study you, but seeing you live? Wow.”

I could say the same to you. You’re the first True’s beaked whale we have footage of.

“Dude, this is First Contact.”

Kinda, yeah.

“Where do humans live?”

On the land.

“What the hell is land?”

Imagine the opposite of your reality.

“I cannot.”

Okay, okay, gimme a second. Got it: you know how you’re always wet?

“I am constantly soaked.”

What if you weren’t?

“Ah. Land. This is great. What do you do up there?”

Same as you. Wander around, eat, mate, poop, sing.

“Dude, I am gonna sing you so many of our songs! Wait, I’m not the first whale humans have met, right?”

Excuse me?

“The other whales. The guys with the big flat heads and the teeth, and the ones with the giant flippers, and those asshole bowheads.”

What’s wrong with bowheads?

“Never met a good one. You hate to judge.”

You do.

“You hate to judge, but I’ve never met a bowhead who didn’t deserve to be eaten by a megalodon.”

Megalodons are real?

“Real as shit. You got anything like that? Big giant monsters that roam around eating humans at random?”

No.

“Pussies.”

Hey.

“I calls ’em like I sees ’em. The other whales. Humans have met other whales, right?”

We have met them, yes.

“Awesome. Hope the poor little True’s beaked whale can get a seat at the table.”

I don’t understand.

“Well, I assumed that humans and whales greeted each other as fellow sentiences sharing a planet; separated by anatomy, but bound by geography. There must be some sort of council. Cross-species parliament, maybe.”

…

Riiiiiight.

“Was I a little bit off or a lot?”

Not even wrong. Your guess didn’t even get close enough to be considered incorrect.

“War?”

Nope.

…

“Please tell me you don’t eat us.”

Not anymore.

“Fuck!”

Most of us, at least.

“You’re monsters.”

You eat squid. Cephalopods are smart as hell.

“No, no. Squid have no souls. They’re more like clockwork beings than real animals. Perfectly fine to eat them or experiment on them. Back to the point: humans hunted us for food?”

Yes, some, but not at an industrial scale.

“Oh, that makes it better.”

We saved the industrial scale for when we hunted you for your oil.

“Our what?”

Oil! You’re full of it! You’ll light e’ry wick from here t’ Hartford! I’ll get me harpoons in ya, I will, and ride you halfway to the Cape, all for your beautiful oil!

…

“Dude?”

Sorry. In my past life, I was Captain Moby Dick.

“I don’t think you actually read that book. Tell me about the oil.”

Your blubber.

“What about it?”

It has a low ignition point and burns for a while. Excellent fuel for a street lamp, plus it was cheap. Only downside was that it made the whole city smell like barbecued dolphin.

“There are other downsides.”

Such as?

“All the whale murder.”

Right, sure. I suppose you don’t want to hear about whalebone, then.

“Oh, God, I hope that’s a euphemism.”

It is not.

“What the fuck do you demons need with our bones?”

Corsets, backscratchers.

“How do humans live with themselves?”

A lot of us drink.

“I hope I never meet another human being.”

Me, too.

At Last: A Politician Without Any Skeletons In His Closet

March 12, 2017 / / 8 Comments

If you told someone in the room when this picture was being taken (’81-ish?) that two of the guys would be dead and one would be a U.S. Senator, the response would be,

“Well, I know one person who isn’t going to be a Senator.”

(In a reality perpendicular to ours, Bobby has been the Representative for California’s 2nd District on and off for thirty years. 2017 Phil could play a Senator on teevee. All the other Grateful Deads–in all iterations–are unelectable in every reality.)

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