Monday, October 27, 2003

SO WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO DO IN NORWAY?
Last week, I had the pleasure of introducing two new Norwegian colleagues to a form of dining with which they had not been acquainted - beer and wings at Hooters. Along with two other of my work friends, we took them to the Mall of America in Bloomington, Minneapolis, to experience the delights of this chicken and ale emporium. With it being a Friday night AND the third game in the World Series, the idea of taking them to Hooters seemed like a bit of a no brainer.

To enhance their enjoyment, our hostess was also in the 2004 calendar, a golden opportunity for our norwegian chums to (a) purchase a calendar, (b) get it personally signed, and (c) have a photo taken with our pneumatic and charming waitress.

Now, least I be accused of sexism and corruption, I should point out that according to our friends, there is no Hooters in Norway, nor is there anything like it. In fact, one of the things Norwegians apparently like to do for fun is stand around in the freezing cold for weeks, waiting for a movie.

According to the norwegian paper, Aftenposten, 144 fans, dressed as Tolkien creatures such as hobbits, elves and orcs, have been queuing outside the Colosseum Cinema in Oslo for three weeks, waiting to buy tickets.

According to Anette Hellaa Christiansen, who was number seven in the queue, "This is so social, so pleasant. Many from last year's queue have moved in together. Eccentrics have to stick together."

Right. Either that or open a Hooters and sit in the heat, for goodness sake!

Wednesday, October 22, 2003

RELIGIOUS FREEDOM EXTENDS TO WITCHES, OF COURSE
In the US, there is a little piece of paper called the Constitution, which was written hundreds of years ago with a view to making life easier for folks. In it, there is a general principal stating that the state should have no role in promoting any specific religion, be that Christianity, Judaism, Islam, or the Third Reformed Church of the Second Coming of the Fifth Prophet.

Putting aside George W. Bush's faith-based initiative that supplies money to religious groups doing charitable works, it works pretty well most of the time. Occasionally, some right-wing religious zealot decides it's OK to drop a two-ton piece of rock with the ten commandments on slap bang in his court room. But despite the protestations of fellow zealots, who feel that this is in no way unconstitutional, the state did in fact have the thing removed.

However, life is a little different in Norway, where not only do they not have any Hooters bars, but also no qualms about government funding for religions. And they are so open that Lena Skarning, owner of Forest Witch Magic Consultant has received a grant of over $7,000 as a business start-up grant.

She intends to use the subsidy to help her tell fortunes from Tarot cards, teach magic tricks at corporate seminars, and develop products like magical bath oil, water potions or face creams meant to help users have clearer dreams at night. As part of the deal, she has had to promise not to use her powers for evil - like cold-calling potential Tarot customers or developing a grating West Indian accent.

So if you're a budding Satanist needing a little extra cash for those baby sacrifices (and we know babies don't come cheap) why not emigrate to Norway where you can apply for state funding?

Of course, if you're a really good magician, maybe you could just conjure up some cash?

Tuesday, October 21, 2003

AT LEAST AIR IS FREE, YES?
I am always fascinated by the most trivial things. For example, I just received a parcel that contained a large folder, protected by a number of index-card-sized bags of air. What really interests me is just the thought that someone, somewhere, actually sat down and thought "Hey, maybe I could make a small bag filled with air and sell it to make money."

Within minutes of receiving the package, I was at the home page for Sealed Air, a company that makes such products. Here, you can buy bucketloads of products that involve packaging and air, from bubble-wrap to Jiffy mailers. Amazing! I mean, there's a whole new world of stuff that I knew nothing about.

It seems that I can buy a machine that makes these bags as I need them. The bags themselves come on a roll - a bit like toilet tissue - and you run them through big rollers, which then inflates them with air.

Using this type of air bag approach saves wastage. Imagine using those Styrofoam "peanut" to pack things and then estimate the space they take up. When you unpack, you have to dispose of these somehow, but their mass remains. However, with the air bags, popping them releases the air and results in less mass to be disposed of.

But wait - there's more! If you are truly on the green kick, you can actually recycle the bags at special "Sealed Air©" facilities, thus doing your bit for the environment.

Now this idea has to rank up there with the "Why-don't-I-put-plain-water-in-a-bottle-and-charge-more-than-gasoline-for-it" idea. Having folks pay for air - it's simply brilliant!

Alas, I've missed the inventing boat with this one. Like most people, I will just have to be content with dreaming about making that one-special-thing that everyone needs, is simple to make, but for which I can charge lots of money.

Tuesday, October 14, 2003

GHETTOPOLY: OUTRAGEOUS, SARCASTIC, HYPERBOLIC, AND FUNNY
Last week, before the game hit the national TV networks, I discovered Ghettopoly. At the official web site (http://www.ghettopoly.com) I found details and pictures, which, I freely admit, had me laughing. Here is a game that uses sarcasm, hyperbole, and stereotypes to blast away at the images of ghetto subculture perpetually portrayed by urban black hip-hopsters, gangstas, rappers, and anyone else. In fact, when interviewed, the author, David Chang, said he wrote it after watching 2 months of MTV videos.

However, it seems that not everyone has the same sense of humor. Although the game appears to have been shipping since at least July, the proverbial shit hit the fan this weekend with each cable new network trying to find as many folks as possible to slam it as racist, offensive etc. But dissection of the game reveals that there is nothing being parodied that hasn't already been around for years in the Rap and Hip-Hop MTV culture.

Game pieces include a cannabis leaf, a pimp, a ho, a bag of crack, and other assorted items. So what was Jay-Z singing about on "Big Pimpin?" And what's Lil' Kim singing about when she says "lick my crack." Sorry if you're offended, but you only have to listen to one Lil' Kim track to realize where SHE'S coming from!

Biggie smells and Tupac Shakur are dead rappers, murdered (allegedly) by gang rivalry in a world wear guns, drugs, bling-bling, and girls are seen as marks of status. Thanks to the MTV culture, these guys are now portrayed as folk heroes - not thugs - with movies, documentaries, and induction to the Hip-Hop Hall of Fame to back up the mythology. And Ghettopoly is offensive?

MTV Cribs is a show that allows stars to brag/gloat about their possessions - how big their crib is, how many rooms, how much it all cost, how many cars they have - and all thanks to the record-buying public. This blatant display of excess hasn't been seen since the "Greed Is Good" days of the 80's, yet here it is again and now it's OK because it's urban rappers from the 'Hood. And Ghettopoly is offensive?

Lil' Kim sings about sex, sex, and more sex, in multiple positions with multiple partners, trying to make it sound like it's OK as long as she is in charge - hey, she's calling the shots so it's OK to behave like this. And Ghettopoly is offensive?

Folks, if rappers want stuff, Lil' Kim wants to sleep around, MTVs want to show cribs, and Shaggy wants to be having sex with a woman "buck naked on the kitchen floor," that's OK by me. But if that's OK for them, stop whining about a game that mocks the very stereotypes they reinforce and get a life. Ghettopoly is NOT reinforcing racist attitudes; it is clearly parodying them as seen through the eyes of how ghetto life is portrayed on television - and much of that coming from the very folks who are complaining.

David Chang has been subjected to a barrage of complaints from professional talking heads to the point that he's probably scared. On Fox TV, he was asked over the phone why he didn't come into the studio to debate the game with an NAACP official and the Fox teams folks. The implication here was that when Fox says jump, you jump, and folks who don't must have something to hide. But maybe, just maybe, he's afraid of the media circus, where the professional pundits would eat him alive and laugh as he crumbled.

And a final twist: as I write, the Ghettopoly site is no longer available. Freedom of Speech? What's that?

Monday, October 13, 2003

SUNDAY WORSHIP - OR NOT
The good Lord enjoins us all to rest on Sunday - unless you're not a Christian, in which case your good Lord suggests another day. This, I believe, actually came about when the various good Lords worked out that if they all have their day of rest concomitantly, everyone would do bugger all and the world would go to hell in a hand basket. This would, of course, please all the bad Lords, but they didn't get a say. So, by agreeing to stagger the days of rest, the gods ensured that someone would be around to make coffee, pump gas, blow up a suicide bomb etc.

This preamble is merely to explain why there is no Sunday posting. My personal religion demands that I worship first at the church of Morpheus and not get out of bed until late, then I stop by the church of Bacchus for something to eat and drink, and finally I make an effort to worship at the church of Triumph by getting on my 2003 Triumph Bonneville America motorcycle to cruise the highways. Such is my spiritual Sunday.

You may have noticed that my typical Sunday varies from other people's, particularly in my neck of the woods where we have a population of 25,000 people and around 30 churches. By my reckoning, that's an average of less than 850 members per church. Doubtless some churches do better than others at attracting the faithful, so the numbers can vary about a mean.

What is even more interesting is that the overwhelming majority of these churches are of a Christian flavor, but each has it's own unique interpretation of the best way to serve the Lord. It's always puzzled me that if the Bible is supposed to be the Word of God, the messages contained therein are far from clear. The notion that "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Light" turns out to be a little vague in that each church seems to have a different version of the way, the Truth, and the Light. More entertaining still is that all claim to have the "real" interpretation.

Now, logic tells me that they can't ALL be right. Some have to be wrong. But that doesn't seem to bother folks. I guess as long as they make their Sunday pilgrimage to the hall of worship of their choice and continue to believe they are on the right track, then all is well with the world.

And once everyone is happily wrapped in that early morning aura of brotherly love, I have the roads to myself. That has to be a good thing.

Saturday, October 11, 2003

MONTECORE TIGER'S JUST A BIG PUSSY CAT
It has to be one one of the most inaccurate descriptions of the week. Steve Wynn, former chairman and CEO of the Mirage in Vegas, said of the tiger that attacked Roy Horn that "(T)here wasn't a speck of violence in anything that Montecore did." Now considering the tiger damn near RIPPED ROY'S THROAT OUT, I'd like to propose that we begin recognizing this sort of behavior as violent. The 600lb killing machine also dragged him off the stage, leaving him in critical condition in hospital after loosing more blood than you can see in a Quentin Tarantino movie.

Just like our brainless bear-hugger from a couple of days ago, Steve appears to have missed the point that lions and tigers and bears (oh my) are wild animals and, as such, prone to being somewhat less that cute and cuddly. The reason they are blessed with sharp teeth and retractable claws is not so they can appear in Disney movies doing a song-and-dance with Mowgli the Jungle Boy.

So, the Bystander's safety tip of the week is as follows: if it bigger, heavier, and hairier than you, do NOT try to hug, kiss, smack-with-a-microphone, or in any way interact with it at close range. Otherwise you are very likely to find yourself being fitted for wings.

Friday, October 10, 2003

WHERE ARE MY NIGERIAN MILLIONS, MR. TUNGAY?
I am almost a millionaire. I won't have to work for it. I don't have to steal. I won't even have to appear on a TV quiz show. No siree, all I have to do is partner up with Mr. David Tungay, the Provincial Director of the Standard Bank of South Africa, Johannesburg Branch. By the end of our little venture, I will have 60% of 25 million US dollars and a lifestyle of the Rich and Famous.

When Dave (and I feel comfortable to call him Dave) first contacted me two months ago, I wrote back outlining my appreciation of his offer and offered to set up a receiving account for the fund transfer. All I wanted from him was an advance of a mere $10,000 to open the account, and as a gesture of goodwill on his part. After all, he was holding the account in his bank and the funds would NOT transfer until a legitimate location was set up here in the US.

Strangely, I didn't get a reply from Dave. Until today.

Clearly he had hit the wrong key on his computer because he simply sent me the original e-mail; he should have hit the "Reply" button, not "Resend." That Dave, he's a hoot!!

Still, I thought I'd check his e-mail address just to be sure, so I typed "David Tungay" into the Google search engine. Amazingly, I was flooded with links for Dickens's David Copperfield. How curious.

In a rare admission of cultural sterility, I have to say that I have not read this book. For me, "David Copperfield" brings up images of disappearing planes, a missing Statue of Liberty, and Claudia Schiffer. I'd love to know what trick he did to pull THAT one!

It seems that "Tungay" is a one-legged bad guy in Dickens's novel, his missing leg being replaced by a wooden one. In those days, HMOs were a little less progressive when it came to prostheses, although some executive at one of the HMO head offices is even now, as we speak, re-reading Dickens and thinking "now here's a guy who really has some great ideas about how to save money."

Surely Dave isn't pulling my leg here? David Tungay, a scam? No, heaven forbid. In his letter, he appeared so sincere and helpful. Hey, here's a guy who is acting only to stop corrupt local politicians from seizing the money as "unclaimed."

I've written back to Dave. This time I've asked for a $250,000 advance to open the account. I realize that my first request was probably too small for such an important man. This time I'm convinced he'll see the merit of my plan. This time he'll be happy to work with me.

I await the check.

Thursday, October 09, 2003

DARWIN AWARD CANDIDATE?
According to UK newspaper, The Daily Telegraph, Mr. Timothy Treadwell, the founder of the Grizzly People, (activists devoted to the preservation of wild grizzly bears and their habitat), has met an untimely, though not necessarily unexpected, end. Given that his most bear-friendly behavior was to sneak up on one and shout "I love you," it ws clearly only a matter of time before he discovered a very simple and obvious fact - the feeling was NOT reciprocal.

While traveling in Alaska and hanging out with his ursine homies, Treadwell trod poorly into the domain of a non-English-speaking bear; probably a French-Canadian quebecois on vacation. The stunningly stupid simpleton also took his girlfriend, Amie Hugenard, along with him, who, alas, suffered the same fate.

Pieces of Treadwell were found in a bear's food cache with enough bits left to enable park superintendent, Deb Liggett, to identify him.

According to one of his colleagues, Jewel Palovak, Treadwell had said in the past that he would be honored to end up in a pile of bear dung. Well, at least one of his life's ambitions was fulfilled. Palovak also said she thought "Timothy would say it's the culmination of his life's work."

No, in fact, Timothy would say absolutely nothing because he has been EATEN BY A FRICKIN' BEAR!! That's because bears are huge, powerful, sharp-clawed, many-toothed killing machines. They also have yet to board the vegan bandwagon and seem quite happy to eat raw idiots.

In life, sometimes the learning curve is not only steep, but when you get to the top, it plummets dramatically. Sadly for Timothy Treadwell, he has become another non-contributing member of the gene pool because of his lack of understanding.
DONUTS OF DEATH?
Yesterday, we ate donuts at work. Today, we have what is left of yesterday's donut extravaganza. So the hot question has to be; how dangerous is a one-day-old donut? Fortunately, I just so happen to have a fully-equipped, lifetime-guaranteed, mobile chemical analysis unit. The technical term for this device is a "stomach."

It's a great little piece of technology that is simple to use, although it does have some limitations with regard to the size of the material you want to test. But basically, here's how it works: you take the food item to be evaluated and place it into something called a "mouth." This functions by taking the item and grinding it into smaller particles, which in turn make it easier to analyze.

Once the food has been converted into smaller particles, it is transferred as a "bolus" to the stomach, via a pulsating tube called an "esophagus." Once inside the stomach, a whole battery of chemicals are released that subject the sample to a rigorous analysis. If the materials prove to be too volatile or dangerous, an automated reverse-flux-ejection process kicks into action and the sample is expelled at high speed out of the analysis chamber. Pretty slick, eh?

Should the sample prove harmless, it then leaves the analysis chamber to be recycled by a series of ancillary mechanical units, until finally, it is expelled from the whole system in the form of a small (or occasionally large) pellet.

Since subjecting yesterday's donut to my own system, so far the preliminary results have been encouraging. To speed up the analysis, I added a small quantity of a chemical called "caffeine," which normally enhances the evaluation of donut acceptability. I think it is tentatively safe to conclude that the danger imposed by a day-old donut is not significantly high enough to warrant the attention of the Center for Infectious Diseases or the Department of Homeland Security.

Wednesday, October 08, 2003

MORE NUDITY
For those of you who want to read hundreds of previous Bystander offerings, try this link below:

The Naked Bystander: PDA Version

I'm still updating it with articles from 1999 onwards, but even so, there are currently many offerings available. Enjoy.
MUSINGS ON A WANDERING BUG
I engaged in a spot of multi-tasking last night by simultaneously watching TV and a small beetle running around on the carpet. I tried to imagine what on earth the bug was actually thinking about, or indeed, if it was thinking at all. For almost 45 minutes, it was going around in a counter-clockwise circle of some 12 inches in diameter, but it wasn't a perfect circle as it was also heading slowly towards me. Every five or six turns, it seemed to stop and think.

Now, I can't be sure it was actually doing any significant evaluation of its purpose in life ("Hey, why am I just going round and around. Isn't there something better I could be doing?"). Maybe it was just getting dizzy. At one point, I lost sight of it, which suggested it had had a really good idea and decided to check out another room. However, five minutes later, it was heading back towards me in a straight line before dropping back into its "spiral of destiny."

I left the TV room for a cup of tea, settled down with a book, and forgot all about the bug until now. I didn't see it this morning, so I assume it has moved on to pastures new. Or else the cat ate it - one or the other.

My fascination with the beetle was probably caused by a burst of unconscious identification with its plight: going round and around in circles while trying to work out what I really should be doing with my life. In truth, I am probably doing lots of things that elevate me to a level of existence slightly above that of the bug. But I do have these nagging doubts now and again about the futility of life.

I wonder if the bug feels the same?

Tuesday, October 07, 2003

MAKING THE PERFECT RAP VIDEO
After many months of research, which included a semiotic deconstruction of sub-cultural referential participles, I can now reveal the secret to making the definitive rap video. Budding male rappers, please pay attention and follow these simple rules:

(a) Choose a stupid name. No mother in her right mind has ever called her child "3:50," "Chingy," "Puffy," "Ol' Dirty Bastard," or "Snoop Doggy Dogg." These names have been invented by individuals trying to appear unique in a field where everyone sounds, in fact, very much the same. If you don't have a unique name, there is no way that MTV will ever air your video.

(b) Repeat your name in every song. Because your songs will inevitably sound like the latest from P.Chingy Bastard Dog, it is critical that you say your name as many times as possible. This is especially important for radio listeners where DJs never actually tell people what they are playing, usually because they don't actually know what they're playing, nor do they care.

(c) Bling Bling. You are, of course, from the streets, and you have your homies and your posse. To show how connected you are to your loyal fans, it is important that they see exactly how you use the $18.00 they shell out for your CDs. Gold, platinum, and diamonds are by far the best way to do this, for nothing will make your fans happier than seeing you decked out like a Christmas tree, ridin' down the street in your P.Diddy Special Edition Escalade with three or four semi-naked ho's trying to lick your brains out though your ears. Oh, and a special note: if you find out some street homies are downloading your stuff because they can't afford $18.00, remind them that they are "taking the bread out of your children's mouths" and sue them quietly.

(d) Big Booties. Yo, bro', you ain't gonna dis no ho coz you respect them, OK? But you can clearly help to fight sexist attitudes by offering many women the chance to appear in your videos. The fact that they have to be gorgeous, almost naked, oiled, pouting, and eager to rub themselves all over your body is intended as parody. Everyone knows that if you are 360lbs and look like Ol' Dirty Bastard, hot chicks will be gagging to be with you, even if you pump gas for a living.

(e) Big Posse. Always have "special guests" on your video, and describe it as "featuring..." whoever. This ensures you don't have to take all the blame if the video sucks and makes you seem much more important than you really are. For example, if the unknown "P. Homie Two Dollar 26 cents" brings out a new vid, it has to be pretty spectacular to score a hit (naked ho's, explosions, dead bodies etc.). However, if it's P. Homie Two Dollars 26 Cents "featuring Lil' Kim and Tupak's Ghost," then you don't need as much visual stuff - although you might want to persuade Lil' Kim to wear nothing but pasties.

(f) Thugs. It never hurts to have lots of aggressive looking guys wearing baggy trousers, baseball or trucker hats sideways, lots of jewelry, and packing heat. Although in real life rappers NEVER carry guns, nor do they espouse violence of any kind, a couple of well-placed magnums and a shoulder holster will always help sales. And if you want to show someone holding a gun, make sure they adopt the classic "gangsta" pose of it being held above their head with the wrist twisted at a weird angle. In real life, should you do this and pull the trigger, you'd break your wrist with the recoil.

(g) Expensive Junk. Your video should be based along traditional capitalist lines with the philosophy of "whoever dies with the most stuff wins." You cannot have too much "stuff" in your video. In the world of rap videos, the word "excess" does not exist. Showing off how much stuff you own is also a good way of demonstrating how much of an individual you are - although remember that Escalades and Hummers are really ten-a-penny now.

So there you have it, homies. Don't worry if you can't sing, can't write, can hardly put three words together without stumbling over them, or have very little talent whatsoever. Remember, this hasn't stopped Snoop, Ludacris, or many others from succeeding. All you need is a good promo company and gullible - sorry, loyal - fans. Chill!
WRITING SAFETY TIP!!
I just spent 20 minutes writing into the "post" box of my browser, the excellent Opera 7.1. However, I discovered that if I hit the minimize button, everything in the box disappears. Big mistake. Great learning experience. Covering the browser temporarily with another window is just fine, but minimizing is not recommended.

So, the most excellent and witty piece I was originally going to post has gone and will never appear again in the same form. Sure I'll post something pretty similar, but as they say, you can't put your feet in the same river twice.
DO NOT CALL LIST AND FIRST AMENDMENT
I'm having a hard time with the "Do Not Call" list and the First Amendment. With over 50 million folks signed up, you'd think that would be a pretty resounding slap in the face of the telemarketing industry. However, the Telemarketer's Association (TMA) feels that any law stopping them from calling folks at home is a breach of the First Amendment. And I am a great fan of the First Amendment.

But whatever the legal arguments may be, there still remains the simple fact that many people (at least 50 million) do NOT want to be called at home with cold offers for anything under the sun. Isn't the whole point of signing up to the "Do Not Call" list that you are requesting the TMA NOT to call. I mean, "Do Not Call" is pretty self explanatory, isn't it? IF that's the case, there is no First Amendment breach - I have exercised my right to say "Don't call me" and I expect the TMA to accede to my request.

My other strategy is that from now on, I will answer the call from telemarketers by a verbal tirade that will border on the offensive and abusive - nay, it will cross that border and actually BE offensive and abusive. I do not want timeshares, vacations, credit cards, mortgages, or anything else.

Oh, and while we're at it, I don't want to hear from charities neither. I don't want to sound brutal, but I already donate a proportion of my money to various charitable causes and I cannot spare any more. Sorry, but that's the way it is.

Monday, October 06, 2003

SPAMLESS SPAM
There's only one thing more irritating than spam and that's spamless spam. By "spamless," I mean spam that doesn't actually DO anything that it is supposed to do. I received yet another invitation to enlarge my fishing rod, but there was no link to a web site, no return e-mail address, no phone number, and no contact information whatsoever.

Look, boys and girls, if you want to at least stand one chance in a million that a customer will actually respond to a mailing, it really does help if you include some method of doing so.

The same goes for "teenage oiled midgets donkey orgy" offers, "turn your $5 into $5,000,000 in one week" teasers, "grow more hair than a yeti" promises, and "help me transfer billions from Nigeria" solicitations. It's bad enough that I receive offers for breast enlargment when I am a male, proving that someone's target marketing strategy is way out of kilter.

So spammers take note - if you absolutely must waste bandwidth and pollute the internet with trash, at least make sure there's some purpose for doing it.
WELCOME
Welcome to "The Naked Bystander," a blend of humor and observation from a single perspective. I make no claims to objectivity, which isn't really the purpose of a blog in the first place. Let me know what you think at any time, although I suspect you're unlikely to have any comments on these opening sentences. In fact, I don't even intend to start blogging until tomorrow at best. In the meantime, I encourage you to ponder on the meaning of "naked bystander," even though I appreciate that I have already taken liberties with the definition of "naked" by tossing out any connotations of impartiality - the state of which I have to admit is probably impossible to achieve.