From an OpEd in a Philly “non-biased” newspaper that caters towards “families.”
A woman can’t imagine a man reloading his double barrel shotgun or chopping wood when he’s donned in Donna Karan and drinking an Appletini.
Well, it’s hard to reload a double barrel shotgun while drinking anything – it’s a two handed activity. Actually, it takes both hands and likely the use of your hip. See, you gotta open the breach and then you’re going to want to trap the butt between your hip and elbow while hanging the barrel over your forearm…oh, the author of the above quote was just trying to make a vague point? Huh. Maybe she should have thought her argument out a bit more.
If you’d like to find out more about what makes a real man, click here.
Sociologists traditionally define the “transition to adulthood” as marked by five milestones: completing school, leaving home, becoming financially independent, marrying and having a child.
Lets see:
_ completing school
√ leaving home
√ becoming financially independent
_ marrying
_ having a child
I’m 40% grown up! And I’m completely okay with that. Now, if you’ll need me, I’ll be screwing around on the internet until I can reach the weekend and play some video games.
This is probably the scariest thing you’ll read today. This is a peek inside of my mind during yesterday’s hangover. This has not been edited to protect the innocent.
Artist's Representation
I’m hungry. I should make waffles.
All I have are eggos. How unhealthy are eggos? More importantly, how unhealthy can I make eggos?
By being frozen, eggos have evaded the breakfast box read for decades now.
I bet they’re toxic. I wonder if we could say that eggos are toxic like Britney Spears.
Wait. Where the hell has she been? We haven’t made fun of Britney in months now.
In fact, we haven’t made fun of the guy who cried at us for making fun of Britney in months now.
Stupid Lindsey Lohan.
And there you have it, folks. That’s how Lindsey Lohan ruined my breakfast.
1. It is photographic evidence of me wearing pants on a weekend
2. Despite having been out of the Army for six years now, I still haven’t found t-shirts more comfortable than Army issue brown tees. and…
3. Yes, I have the gall to hang a Doves’ Some Cities poster next to a Toulouse-Latrec print.
Oh, and that manuscript in my hand? That’s a large chunk of Project Kingdom. For those of you keeping score at home, I am currently halfway through Chapter 29 out of an outlined 40, and sitting pretty at 77,000 words written.
Formatted for editing – double-spaced 12 point Courier New – I realized that I have given birth to a doorstop. The beast is closing in on 400 pages and tips the scale at more than five pounds.
All of these details, rendered in physical form, amaze me due to one very large fact. I cannot remember starting Kingdom. It has sat dormant for the better part of the last two or three months. I like to think that those months was a period of glorious gestation, where I was somehow becoming a better writer and doing things that will better Kingdom, but honestly? If there was a Manuscript Protective Service, they would have placed Kingdom with a loving foster novelist ages ago.
Kingdom’s a survivor, though. She’s moved computers at least twice. Moved apartments. Out lasted a couple of girlfriends. I’m pretty sure that when I started Kingdom I had both a functional car and television. Hell, the beast has killed a printer and untold ink cartridges.
The index cards used for pre-writing that hang above my desk have yellowed from cigarette smoke. And I don’t even want to think about how many bottles of booze have been sacrificed to Kingdom.
Put to the question, I’d estimate that I started writing Kingdom sometime around spring 2009, but I wouldn’t swear by that.
But now, as I wait for the house to cool, and think about lining my stomach before I start throwing bourbon at it, the end feels so close. If I can crank out a measly 5000 words a week, I can wrap the first draft before September. Then, it’ll just be several hellish months of editing. But at least I’ll be able to hold the entire thing.
And after the last couple weeks, that’s damn huge.
I’ve been doing some thinking lately about job titles. Specifically, I think job titles need to be re-imagined to better reflect the job’s function. To that end, I propose the adoption of what I call “The Guy Title.”
For example, Joe the IT specialist will become The Computer Guy. Or if Ted specializes in keeping the network up and running, Ted becomes The Network Guy. Fred who keeps everyone’s email up and running? He’s The Email Guy.
Of course, the Guy Title system easily extends beyond the IT department.
Photographer? Meet the Camera Guy.
Web Copywriter? Web Writer Guy.
Marketing Analyst? Poll Numbers Guy.
Package Car Driver? Delivery Guy.
Pizza Delivery Driver? Pizza Guy.
It’s a pretty simple formula, and chances are you’re already using them in conversation anyway. I think, that by taking these conversational titles and turning them into official titles, employees will have a much better understanding of exactly what’s expected of them.
The Guy Title system also makes interoffice communications easier. Have a problem and you need it fixed? Shout the name of the problem and attach “Guy” and there’s little doubt who should respond.
Now, I know you’re wondering, “But what about management?” Well, that’s just as easy. Simply add a “boss” for department heads, a “suit” for division level, a “-y” for C-level positions. Thus, the Chief Marketing Officer becomes Market-y Guy. The IT Division Manager? Computer Suit Guy. Customer Service Manager? Complaint Boss Guy.
And ladies? Don’t want to be called a “Guy”? Think about it this way, if payroll is determined by job title, there’s not really anyway to be paid less for the same job.
Ah, the Franklin Mint. You’ve stood too long and produced too many “commemorative” items to go without some serious checking.
Wow! Don’t you feel patriotic! Don’t you want to own not one, but fifty pieces of American history? Well, let’s hope not, because then we couldn’t be friends. Let’s dissect a commercial, shall we?
I didn’t want my family to miss out…
Bandwagon
Ah, an appeal to emotion. It’s so passive-aggressive. Did you see what she did there? Here’s how it works based on a faulty premise – because she cares for her family, she bought them the product in this commercial. Because you have yet to do so, you don’t love your family. And she’s a better mother than you. Better start dialing now.
on a piece of America that’s valued today…
Appeal to Patriotism
Insert an appeal to patriotism. It’s worked before, and it’s technically true. Currency is technically a piece of America. As for value, we know that, it’s $12.50. Fifty quarters. That’s like a single person’s trip to the laundromat!
…and will be even more meaningful tomorrow.
Hasty Generalization
Define meaning. If you are equating “meaning” to “value” then you’re assuming that this set will be worth more tomorrow. And true, some coins will be more valuable tomorrow, but most won’t. Not bad, three logical fallacies and we’re only 9 seconds into the commercial.
So, thanks to the Franklin Mint, I gave them not one piece of American history, but fifty.
Questionable Math
Obscure Pronoun Use
No, thank you! Wait, since this is a work commissioned by the Franklin Mint, aren’t you self-congratulating there? So, it’s not a collection, a single entity, but fifty quarters?
The grammar nerds picked up on this one right away. In the above sentence “them” implies Franklin Mint, as that was the last noun used prior to the pronoun.
This is the complete collection of fifty commemorative state quarters from the Franklin Mint, a value never to be seen again.
Contradiction
Faulty Premise
And the first contradiction. It’s not fifty pieces, it’s a collection. And here’s the first use of the term “value.” Value is a really wonderful term, it’s not fixed or provable like “cost” or “price.” Value differs on a person to person basis. That’s some lawyered up language there.
That last bit “never to be seen again”? That’s a nice bit of false assumptions there. The Franklin Mint isn’t the only people selling these commemorative collections, but they would like you to believe they are, and that one day, they’ll stop.
These coins are in brilliant, uncirculated condition, have never been in circulation, and will never be minuted again.
Appeal to Authority
A fine example of making up a word that then turns a sentence into a redundant construct. The assumption at the end is a fairly safe one, but because an “authority” was used to make it (Jay W. Johnson, 36th Director of the U.S. Mint), we’re expected to assume it’s true. Mr. Johnson was the director of the U.S. Mint for one year (2000-2001), and since went on to work for both The Franklin Mint and Goldline International.
In fact, many have already increased in value, some as much as 400%.
Questionable Math
Yikes. This one is really bad. An increase in value of 400% for a US quarter is…are you ready for this?…$1.00. Seriously, do the math.
Oh, and were you able to read that fine print? Here’s how the Franklin Mint tries to cover their asses through tiny text: Historical increases in value do not guarantee that coins in this program will increase in value. So, even if those coins had increased in value before, there’s no guarantee they’ll be worth that much in the future, or even now. Because a lot of things can change the value of an object…like increasing the supply.
Why do I own these rare quarters representing every state in America? Because they’re a value I can pass on, that’s too good to pass up.
Straw Man
Appeal to Patriotism
Non-sequitor/Gambler’s Fallacy
Asking yourself a question is poor form in rhetoric. Why? Because when you do that, you frame an easier argument for yourself in the mind of the audience. By the way, did you catch the tasty irony I just used?
The answer provided can actually go one of two ways depending on how it’s punctuated. If Franklin Mint is playing it safe, and put a comma or period in that sentence, then it becomes a non sequitur. The first sentence says that the quarters are rare, and implies value. The second sentence asserts that the value would come from the ability to pass the quarters on.
If we remove the comma, than we fall into the Gambler’s Fallacy. By passing these quarters on, the speaker is saying that these quarters will eventually be worth money.
In today’s economy, who needs uncertainty? This is a solid, all-American value.
Appeal to Fear
Appeal to Patriotism
Questionable Math
Yeah, the economy sucks. That solid, all-American value? If you bust those quarters out of the case and take them to the store, you can buy $12.50 worth of groceries. Unless the economy collapses, at which point, they won’t hold any value beyond the usefulness of the metal. Have fun trying to eat quarters.
Call now and ask how you can be eligible to receive the first ten quarters absolutely free. We will also tell you how you can attain the remaining forty coins to complete your question, as well as a free display, this special collectors booklet describing each coin, and a certificate of authenticity. As a bonus, you’ll receive “Hidden Treasures Around You” a guide to valuable coins that might be in your home right now.
What a sick block of text. Here the Franklin Mint is trying to sweeten the pot by promising free things. If we take this block at face value, that means that the customer is only paying for the quarters. All fifty, you’re paying $12.50. Get ten free and the price drops down to $10.00.
Call now because many of these mint condition coins are scarce and many have increased in value, some as much as 400%.
Questionable Math
Unfounded Premise
Ah, that 400% number does sound impressive, doesn’t it? And you should call now, because many of these “mint condition coins” are scarce. Scarcity is the source of value in physical goods, isn’t it? But we’re presented with this claim without any proof. How scarce? Which coins?
Today, it’s almost impossible to find a complete set of these quarters in mint condition and they will never be minted again.
Contradiction
Appeal to Authority
First thing’s first. Impossible to find? Hardly. You’re contradicting that claim by selling these sets. And the second bit? Now you’re just repeating a second fallacy. Repetition of a falsehood does not make it a truth.
If only I had bought that back then, look what it’s worth now. Now I say, if only I had bought two or three of these collections.
Hasty Generalization
Appeal to Emotion
A double whammy!
The first fallacy is implied. The argument is as follows, “Some coins rise in value. These are coins. These coins will raise in value.” Or not. You never know. But statistically, they won’t.
The second is an appeal towards happiness, or more correctly, away from regret. Don’t regret not purchasing these coins, buy them and be happy instead.
Less than 1% of Americans will ever own this complete collection. Will you be one of them?
Questionable Math
Snob Appeal
Less than 1% of all American’s sounds really small, doesn’t it? I mean, since it’s “less than,” it could mean like thirty people. However, it could also mean one person less than 1% of the American population. Taking a recent round U.S. population number, 330,000,000, that means no more than 3,299,999 people can own the set. That’s more than the population of Iowa, the 30th most populous state.
Knowing the reality of that number takes the impact out of the next claim, but the motive is implied. Only a lucky few will own this set. Are you part of the lucky few? Text book snob appeal.
* * *
For those actually interested in buying a set of these quarters, street value $12.50, you can contact the Franklin Mint. If you catch a commercial while it airs, you can get the set for two easy payments of $19.95. If you order online, you’ll be paying $49.50.
Let me please preface this by saying that my friend Summer has a job that I am exceptionally enviable of – she works at the Hayden Planetarium in the American Museum of Natural History. That very museum has released a video using 4D mapping technology to impart just how little we are when compared to the grandeur of the entire universe.
Don’t be thrown off by that explanation, 4D mapping is just a method used to equate space and time as measured by light. I can’t crunch the math on it, which is why Summer is safe from me taking her job, but the theory basically states that time and space are the same thing.
The video itself is stunning, and can easily impart a sense of interstellar loneliness on the observer. And it made me instantly flash back to a video that probably had a far greater impact on my childhood than anyone at Warner Brothers Animation intended. Of course, I speak of Yakko Warner’s Universe Song
That song does a fairly good job of driving home an existential crisis, doesn’t it? To think, this show was aimed at grade schoolers.
For those who prefer to feel insignificant with a more upbeat tempo, and loads more British thrown in to boot, there’s always Monty Python’s Universe song from the classic film “The Meaning of Life.”
And I suppose I should say something uplifting now like, even though you got a parking ticket today, you can take heart in knowing that at that very moment, a star, somewhere in the far off reaches of space, was born. But really, that’s not my style. Instead, I’m going to be logging of the Internet in a bit to get back to work on my book.
My current goal is to complete the first draft of Project Kingdom by February 14th. Valentine’s Day. How many stars will be born between now and then?
The Internet is nothing if it ain’t a powerful resource for pranks. And why not? It allows large numbers of people to exert minimal effort to create powerful inside jokes. That, ladies and gentlemen, is what local TV news anchor, and friend of the blog, Ryan Nobles appears to be doing.
For those not local to Richmond, the city finally succeeded the diamond-shaped hole that was left with the Richmond Braves baseball team left town by bringing in a replacement. There was a whole mess of news stories and controversy about this attempt hinging first on where to put the stadium and then on the mascot.
Richmond's Terror That Glides From The Trees
Let’s talk about that mascot, and the no-goodery I promised in the title, shall we? It’s a Flying Squirrel. Not exactly an image that strikes terror into the hearts of visiting teams, but the company is trying to make Richmond baseball a family-friendly event and I’m okay with that. What I am really okay with, however, is that apparently the local paper, the Richmond Times-Dispatch, is holding a contest to name said mascot.
Enter Ryan Nobles. Apparently Ryan thinks that the mascot should be named after another local-legend and friend of the blog, one Weather Dan. So, Ryan put out the call today to have everyone vote along those lines.
So, Christmas is a scant three weeks away, and my mother is starting to get frantic. It seems I’ve gotten so used to recession living that I seem to have lost the ability to “want.” So, I figured you all know me pretty well, and you’re all forward-thinking snappy dressers with impeccable taste in movies, music, and books, why don’t you tell me what I want for Christmas?
The image above, Merry Sithmas, is the product of one powerpig on the Flickr.
Bradley Robb likes TV and books, and has an intense dislike for cinnamon. Once, Bradley stopped a Soviet T-60 with his middle finger. Bradley writes speculative fiction and edits Fiction Matters, and never really got the hang of talking about himself in the third person.