Near Braindead Experiences

I am angered that there is any shroud of mystery around “NDE’s” aka Near Death Experiences.  Really?  Are people that fucking stupid?

Let’s review.  There is overwhelming evidence that people have very similar experiences with NDEs; there are similarities, tunnels, lights at the end of it, floating above themselves.  There is also a consistent corollary, that most of them are completely inaccurate when reporting about what they “saw” that is usually up and out of their view. 

You know that many hospitals actually put random things above cabinets and such, so should someone have an out of body experience, so if someone actually does float up, they’d be compelled to say “HEY! I actually saw this thing up there!”  You know what? NO ONE HAS EVER IDENTIFIED ANY OF THOSE. 

Never.

Not once.

So, back to what we do know.  Similar experiences, phenomena, visions… what does this tell us?  You might say “well, it just seems suspicious, doesn’t it? I mean, why would they all report the same things, even those people that aren’t aware of what other people reported??” 

It just seems like the most classic logical error of evaluating the evidence you have and jumping to an unsupported conclusion.  The only thing those common experiences prove… is that you’re using the same instrument to measure.  You’re using a human; a human brain.  You’re a vessel with limited but similar capacity to interact with your reality. 

Think of yourself as a measuring device, such as a device to detect Gamma rays.  You cannot use that device as a barometer (unless you’re MacGyver I guess).  You don’t use a scale to measure volume.  You do not check temperature to identify chemical makeup.  A human brain, in it’s seemingly infinite capacity but actually ability, is really just a device with limited applications and functions.  Tunneled vision isn’t out of this world, it’s something commonly found in exhaustion or head injuries.  The out of body experience isn’t evidence of a soul or of heaven, it’s a very likely transmutation of consciousness to dreaming in which our brain confuses and disorients us.   

How often has one dreamt of flying?  Or falling? That jump when you startle yourself awake feeling your dream-self pancake into the ground?  How often do you day dream?  When you’re tired, do you feel you see more random things out of the corner of your eye?  The shadows you drive past seem like a dog or animal, yet there’s nothing there? Your “eye plays tricks” on you? You’re going to trust your perception at a moment of severe trauma, more than you rely on your brain when you’re simply tired?  Really??

The fact that one can trick their own brain should be reason enough not to trust it.  Give it a placebo and it totally runs with it.  

It drives me insane that there is actually money and funding being wasted on such a stupid, asinine conjecture.  It’s another example of ascribing a religious nature to something without any proof that such an attribute has any logical bearing on religion, whatsoever, rather than study what is obviously at issue, the brain.  The brain gasping on too little oxygen, or feeble support systems, injury, a dream like state of delirium, or just choking on the unbearable claustrophobia of an intellectual midget.  Why would anyone assume evidence of anything else when we know enough about the mysterious brain to know every single element of a NDE is consistent with trickery of the mind.

It’s not evidence of a light at the end of a tunnel you buffoon, it’s evidence that however uselessly, you still possess a brain.

A Day of Mourning

As much as I am saddened by the recent passing of Christopher Hitchens, I am delighted by the sheer volume of recorded talks, debates, appearances, interviews, essays, articles, and books.  I spent the day perusing Hitchslaps, and had the time to just soak in so much of what he was famous for; whether you find any of his ideas inflammatory or spot on, there is no doubt that he was an incredible intellectual with a merciless wit. 

My first thought, after seeing him eviscerate his opponents for intellectual shortcomings, was that the apologist movement must have issued a universal sigh of relief.  No longer would they have to risk opening their mouths and saying something asinine like “oooh what about … what about pascal’s wager!” and know that Hitchens would first chide them for relying on such a stupid argument and then dispel any notion that the idea is worth entertaining.  I was shocked watching some of the footage in which his opponents attempted humor by saying things that he used to just BURY them. 

Like the Rabbi who commented about his son’s briss that “my son cried more at his first haircut than he did when he was circumcised” to which Hitchens first replied, “then you were doing it wrong.”  (The haircut, I presume.)  But he goes on to say “What if I was a muslim and said ‘my daughter cried more at her first hair cut than she did when I had her clitoris cut off.’?” And preceded to bring his point home that religion makes decent, nice people do outrageously horrible things in the name of religion. 

Or how about the time that fucking Grand Poobah of high pitched whiny morons has a moment of clarity when he quips “Now Hitch, I know you’re used to being the smartest man in the room…” Honey, everyone’s used to that feeling when they talk to you.  It’s not just Hitch.  That was Sean Hannity.  What a fucking tool.  He sounds like a 1930’s mafia informant, high pitched, nasal, and whiny.

I’m delighted that apart from the appearances on stupid news programs and inflammatory crossfire like LoudestVoiceWins news network appearances, Hitch also did a number of talks, friendly debates, book talks, and interviews which allow him the freedom to weave together his arguments without some moron who starts the interview with “So, I believe in god, I’m a Christian, but what is all this you’re saying about religion isn’t a force of good in the world!  What could you possibly mean by this?”  I totally respect the guy for making the rounds in places that may have quite a few non-believers hidden within that could use a reminder that they’re not alone.  He was just so fucking good at knowing when niceties were uncalled for and when someone needed to be called to the mat.

I watched him receive an award from Dawkins in Oct 2011 (2 months before he died), and I just couldn’t.  It made me sob.  He was so sick, and knowing he was nearing the end was so heartbreaking.

Forever in our conscious, even if no longer in the universe.  <3

Fuck Off, Jesus, You're Giving Away My Position

Warning Label:  Lest your eye deceive you, nothing written below is in any way shape or form an indication that I have anything but the highest respect for the brave men and women that serve in the military to do a job few of us would volunteer to do.  To suggest otherwise would not only be wrong, but it would be incorrect. 

So I was thinking about Gays in the military (huh, strange… I felt the urge to capitalize that, yet I insist on writing ‘god’ on principle… lol), and I was reminded of an article I read by my favorite Gay advice columnist and overall fabulous Dan Savage, in which he thanked the military.  It was before he met his husband? Partner?  I forget if they got hitched or not… anyway, he recounted dancing in a club when he was young, and spotting a military dude and thinking ‘thank you, U.S. military, for giving that boy a body like that…”

And apart from imagining a hot gay soldier dancing in a club, something else dawned on me…I totally get it now.  The whole jesus-freak fear of gays in the military, I get it.

You see, religion has long cornered the market on taking everything you want out of and trying to control your access to it by dangling that eternal life thing in front of you.  Sex, booze, drugs, more sex… all of the things that you like, those are the things about which religion has the most to say.  Think about it.  How do you get a baby’s attention?  That’s right, you dangle keys in front of it, or your cell phone – something you don’t *really* want your kid to have, but let’s face it, when you want to get his attention, showing him a memoir written by a Real Idiot Housewife of Whogivesafucksberg isn’t going to have the same “reach out and grab ya” effect.  That’s nothing anyone wants.  You have to dangle something they DO want, even if they’re not allowed to admit it, in order to get them to listen to the rest of what the fuck they have to say.  If religion professed to shun all the wickedness that is Model Airplane Building, do you think more than a handful of individuals would take notice?  Aaah, but bring up strip clubs and sexual deviance, and NOW you’re onto something near and dear to one’s heart, and it’s just one extra step to convince them that shit feeling they have inside is due to that lust for smut, not from excessive fast food and inactivity.  Trust me, I know things.

So, back to that whole gays-fill-fatigues-like-no-one-else thing…er, I mean, gays openly serving in the military (seriously, is there anything sexier than a ripped gay, in a military uniform, with a big gun and all that random gear strapped to him or her?)  The military has long been one of the staples of patriotism to the christian nation.  Fuck you, microsoft, if I wanted to capitalize christian, I’d have done so myself.  Making me autocorrect the autocorrect is rude.  Where was I? oh yeah. Jesus soldiers.  Soldiers are an odd choice for poster boys, really, because – while they’re absolutely awesome human beings – they also have glorious potty mouths and wicked senses of humor (some, anyway) which aren’t exactly appropriate for bible study.  Have you watched the military channel?  There’s more bleeps than a Lisa Lamponeli special shown on network tv.   Stupid metaphor, my point being, they curse, a lot.

Think of all the ways soldiers are described – brave, courageous, devoted parents, spouses, children.  They make us proud.  They’re heroes.  None of these things are any LESS true knowing some are gay… unless you’re a fundy.  Letting Gays serve openly in the military, for fundies, is like letting a woman get an abortion during “children’s week” in church.  I think the whole reason they’re so up in arms about it is they’ve spent so much time and effort cultivating the god --> patriotism --> military connection that this would seriously fuck up that scenario.  If you could have “patriotic” and “gay” in the same breath, how the fuck are you going to sell the idea that Gay Marriage as a poison pill inadvertently swallowed by a feeble and struggling America, so delicate that it was weakened by all the condoned gay sex that’s going on??  The military has yet to recognize gay spouses, you know, they’re not invited to on-base events that allow soldiers to bring a spouse and kids.  No joke, you can’t bring your gay husband to the fireworks display or family cook out.  And when THAT finally changes, what next?? 

It dawned on me that by letting gays serve “openly” (isn’t that a shit kicker?  The whole argument is prefaced with “openly…” as in, we could GIVE a fuck if you fucking go back in the hell closet you belong in, so long as we don’t have to know about it…), it ruins the God Guns and Country identity.  It takes something that they’re so used to owning, and makes it an unstable ambassador for their ideals. 

Now I’m not saying they own the military, but the simple fact that there even had to be a lame, counter movement about “I don’t have to support the war to support our troops” gives you at least an idea on the whole christian/military relationship they’re used to expecting, that image that ties god to guns with such…flamboyancy.  Who knows, maybe it’s the whole having to be willing to die for a cause/promises of heaven that make the two so natural on a playdate together.  You know, no atheists in foxholes crap.

Whatever the reasoning, I realized that gays serving OPENLY OMG OPENLY HOW CAN THEY DO THAT does exactly what religious types hate, makes them share some concept with heathens and sinners.  It’s gay gift giving around a gay christmas tree with gay people that don’t own a nativity scene and if they did, it’d be done in drag.  It’s eroding at the illusion they have over a lot of things, that no one else should be able to partake in it, it’s theirs by exclusive god given right, like the constitution, nascar or state fairs. 

How Very Little I Know or Care to Know about Music

So let’s start out with a few caveats, shall we?

1. I do not fuck all about the music industry outside of baseless conjecture and assumption.
2. I have musical taste which while eclectic, still falls comfortably into that bell curve of mainstream music – while I certainly like some random things, my taste in music is, for the most part, lazy and unimaginative, unless you count Benny Goodman as imaginative.
3. I don’t really care all that much to change 1 or 2, though I’m always open to listening to something that might delight my ear.

Who would have thought that weird perm-headed kid would turn out to be Justin Timberlake, talented musician, actor, voice actor, and whateverthefuckelse he does?  Don’t get me wrong, I’m no fanboi – I wasn’t even that in to NSYNK or however they butchered that word, but I would like to point out that the one that was probably the easiest to pass over is currently the only one I can really remember.  Truly, I’m not even that much of a fan of his music, but I watch all of the SNL videos with that guy that’s not Adam Sandler and played some evil kneivel character.  I have to admit he’s got both comedic timing and whether you like his brand of music or not, which I don’t really, he’s still pretty damn popular.

I forget which band Nick Lachey was in, if it was the same one, but what the fuck is that guy up to?  I see him as the host of the Sing Off, and it’s a damn shame he doesn’t sing.  If you’ve ever watched the Sing Off, Lachey has the most velvety, smooth voice I’ve ever heard.  It’s fucking creepy how silky and smooth it is.  I couldn’t name a single song he sang, but if he can TALK like that, the guy has to be able to sing like an angel.

And it got me thinking… if he and Timberlake were in the same band, do they ever think of corroborating?  And then, wait, no, that’s just weird.  When do you EVER hear 2 guys working together on a song unless one is a rap artist and one is a country singer, or some other vibrantly contrasting musical style?  Usually one does a bridge, or a looped background thing… Like that horrible apology song with Faith Hill’s husband (wtf is his name…)… something about it’s too late to something something, it’s too late…..

Or Adam Levine inviting the once-vaguely-talented-now-morphing-into-untalented-white-version-of-Aretha-Franklin Christina Aguilera to sing on his song… Dudes invite chicks to sing. 

Girls might sing with girls, like…wait, that hook sounds like the…Dixie Chicks??  Or maybe Katy Perry and RiHanna or something, but you never hear OOOH! Timberlake and Lachey are touring together! 

I admittedly watch a few different reality television shows where you get to see musicians/singers whoring themselves out to network television.  Such as Jennifer Lopez performing her new song (I should have fast forwarded it, how could I know at the time I’d hear it 1,000,000,000 more times every time I turned on the radio?), or Usher going on Dancing with the Stars to sing horribly without auto tune… auto tone? True tone? Whatever it’s called, see #1.  I will listen to about 15 seconds worth just to see how terrible they are live.  It’s fun to see them struggle with it.

To all of you with unique, incredible taste in music, congratulations.  You’re fucking morally superior in every way, and have a “spine” or whatever else you want to say it takes to make up your own mind about music.  You know what? I don’t care.  Part of me wants to, part of me wants to go discover new interesting stuff, but the other half has heard enough non toe tapping crap to be really sort of over it.  Music is, for the most part, a lovely backdrop for me to let my brain do all sorts of other useless things, and when it becomes too interruptive or cranky about being melodious I’m done with it.  So, my hats off to you, thanks to your efforts at the far end of the bell curve, your drive to find something before it was cool help discover it for people like me to play it into oblivion.  Thanks!

To all those that tried Russian Roulette with an automatic, I salute you.

I can see how the machines rise up.  I really can.  It’s actually quite easy.  Take, for example, the recent TSA scandal in which a woman’s luggage was searched, her sex toys found, and a note put inside her luggage, something to the effect of “You go girl!” or something equally retarded and Forever Alone.  Some idiot tasked with a job that is supposed to require some amount of professionalism OR AT LEAST SECRECY… leaves a fucking note that says “hahahaha you said duty.”

What. The Fuck. people.  Seriously.  When we coagulate into organized group to try to do some task, we seem to always fuck it up.  We don’t have the right screening processes… or enough people who can manage to give a fuck for a long enough period of time for things to not just completely go to shit.  If it’s run by humans, it will invariably be run by fucking morons who find it fun to press an impression of their penis into every cupcake before frosting it.  Lest you think I’m merely picking on men, trust me, it takes an equally fucking idiotic woman to decide to fuck said moron male to continue making useless steaming piles of carbon we call “TSA agents” and other names. 

So, the machines.  Honestly, people.  If you can’t fucking do your job and just keep your fucking mouth shut, maybe we do need the machines to do your job.  You’re not fucking capable of maintaining the level of composure it takes to, I don’t know, hose down a front walk, without making it look like you’re peeing or hawking a loogie and then watching the water spray peel it’s disgusting stickiness from the cement.  You’re part of the problem.  You need replacing.  And for fuck sake, maybe if we programmed a machine to do your job, and made him depressingly unable to refuse commands (You did have it rough, Marvin buddy! They never utilized your full abilities!) , we wouldn’t have this kind of shit happening.

I have already sent my Thank You card to Google, welcoming them as my new overlords, but perhaps I should preemptively fill one in for the machines, too.  Because I admit it, I’d rather take some accidental metalman rapage (yes, rapage, not rampage, as in a robot in a rapey mood) from a miswiring than I would having to deal with your average greeter from Wal-Mart.  At least you know the machine probably isn’t going to twitter about it.  I’m just ready to sacrifice a whole lot to an unknown, heartless machine that trust anything in the hands of the extremely stupid.  You know what I’m talking about.  These people exist, and thinking too hard about it just makes me weep for a time where you’d welcome being shoved out an airlock “for the good of the majority,” just so THIS doesn’t get any sort of job near me:   

You know how I found that?  I googled “poor decision making skills.”  I wish I was kidding.

Using the internet as a spyglass into humanity, I have found the terrors of living in the matrix run by machines is a fucking hell of a lot less frightening than having a pedophile on the child taskforce police department (San Jose), Any Outspoken Anti-Gay Politician (who writes speeches about the evils of homosexuality while a boyscout licks his scrotum), or any single person that has asked an honest question on Yahoo Answers that deals with sex, semen, condoms, peanut butter, being gay, drug tests, or god.  Because those people are too dumb to live.

Calling it a Quirk Doesn't Make You Less of a Twat

Quirk: That set of behaviors that a sorority girl truly beleives makes her irriesistable.  

Personality quirks are just character flaws that you’ve decided you don’t need to work on to improve.  Some inconvenient exception you expect everyone to make for you because you’ve declared… it’s not an area you plan on improving.  That’s it, there’s no more evolving or growing to be done there, it’s now just the cutesy little detail that makes you unique. 

I know someone that “hates surprises.”  It’s full spectrum, from not liking to have someone throw them a party that they didn’t get to help plan, from not liking presents, because as they put it, they don’t like the expectation wrapped around what might be disappointment and then having to pretend they’re thankful.  Now, I don’t know how you’d go about changing that, but it seems to me that it’s masking being a self centered little twat by calling it a quirk.  But even worse, because it’s labeled a quirk, the “I hate surprises” is the end of story.  No “I need to learn to be grateful when put on the spot!” nothing like that.  And because it’s a QUIRK they believe it excuses them for being ill mannered!  What the fuck?

I suppose when you embrace your quirk as your identity, you see no interest in changing it because somehow it’s defined you, but don’t expect people to be impressed if you’re just using it as an excuse to be a lazy fuck of a human being.  Mo’Nique or however you spell it… her quirk after Precious and the Oscar nominations was that she didn’t shave her legs.  And my god, when they showed a pic of them, THOSE LEGS WERE YETI.  A few months later, I caught a story that said she’d started shaving, which all I have to say is hooray for her husband that his wife was publicly shamed into recognizing that little quirk wasn’t cute, it was lazy and gross. 

Snookie’s “quirk” was that stupid fucking poof of hair.  Lo and behold more public shaming, and she hasn’t worn it since.  One could argue Jennifer Grey’s “quirk” was her nose, and having it fixed made her too ordinary.  Yet Pamela Anderson’s 2 quirks were the only thing that got her recognized. 

I think there’s 3 types of quirks.  The odd habit, the psychological/dysfunction habit and simply a fucking bad habit.  A quirk is that thing that makes you different, makes you stand out, that little tidbit of against-the-grain that you don’t apologize for having because really, it’s a part of you.  Or, perhaps, not something you can do anything about but just part of your uniqueness.   I have a friend that sneezes tiny sneezes in groups of 3 or more.  Never less than 3.  It’s totally a quirk, and kind of a cute one.  She’s completely hostage to it… so when I start laughing when she sneezes, there’s not much she can do while involuntarily spasming to my amusement.  I have another friend who sends out solstice and equinox letters that I always look forward to receiving.  It’s certainly one of the best quirks I’ve ever found in someone, these beautiful, creative letters of artistic poetry and creative uniqueness.  My husband told me if we divorce, he’s fighting for full custody of this friend, but I stand solidly by my claim that he was my friend property before the marriage and I will retain him should the marriage end.  

Those are the kind of odd quirks that romantic movies can make you hate… it’s the Reality Bites scene with the guy who says “bless you” when you sneeze, or better yet, he remembers YOUR quirks so he shows up with your blatantly retarded coffee order, just right.  The movies may have soured them… but these quirks, they’re the good ones, or can be. 

Likewise, there’s a fuzzy line between a quirk and a dysfunction… in fact, sometimes, there’s no line.  There are some habits driven entirely by some dysfunction or psychological hang up.  My inability to sleep with a twisted sheet is certainly one of my quirks, no doubt just OCD behavior but I’ve made the conscious decision that I’m not going to go through therapy about it, and my husband has to live with me suspiciously checking to make sure he actually tucked in the blankets.  That’s a psychological habit, it’s beyond liking things a certain way and gets into needing them a certain way to function.  These quirks are essentially odd habit/interest quirks with underlying psychological cause… you can choose to find them adorable, entertaining, or they’re going to drive you fucking insane and you should break up right now, because they’re not going away without therapy. 

For example, I think there’s a difference between someone having a fear of speaking in front of crowds, and someone having to have the last word.  The former is most likely not something one’s happy to have, the latter is just fucking self indulgent.  If I tell you I’m sorry that I need to stop and get out of the elevator, I probably mean it – I’m sorry… but I’m not going through exposure therapy to get over claustrophobia, because it essentially involves stuffing you into a small space until they rupture the fear right out of you.  I’m apologizing because frankly, I’d rather not be claustrophobic, but I do actually have enough self-awareness to see that it at times inconveniences others if they have to take the stairs with me.   Apologizing for being a rude scumbag bitch when it’s entirely within your power NOT to be a rude scumbag bitch is entirely another thing.  You’re apologizing for shitty behavior as though it’s just one of those lovable things we all have to accept… it’s your quirk! You can’t help it, you just have a knack for cheating on your significant other! Oops!  Love me for who I am!

The bad habit quirk is like a giant pendulum quirk that swings precariously back and forth between the odd habit and the psychological habit, dipping in the middle through a stream of self indulgent arrogance.  The bad habit quirk is synonymous with self-centered rudeness, unapologetic bad manners and the entire id of a reality star.   It’s using the word quirk instead of the more descriptive term, such as a stupid fucking bad habit or you’re just a douche.  Maybe your quirk even has some root in a psychological habit, a fear of abandonment, some bipolar disease… but if your cutestly little quirk is stabbing people in the back and feigning ignorance, expect to be lonely, legally dysfunctional or not.

I’m just asking for some basic fucking self awareness if you have a quirk that impacts other people.  I know I’m a nazi when it comes to how the bed is made.  But in my defense, I try to be nice about it.   I’ll volunteer to do it myself.  I’m not asking anyone to put themselves out, rather to just let me have a smooth surface to sleep on at my own expense. 

Continued Search for the Perfect Insult

Back to the subject of insults, I have concluded that a genuine look of surprise/embarrassment, and the explicit assumption that one is mentally challenged is really the best route.  I am looking forward at some point to saying “oh!  I’m sorry, I didn’t realize they let mentally challenged people [order food / drive / go to the movies / drink in a bar] while unsupervised.  My apologies, of course you’re special*!!”  Note, that last word there is said out of rhythm with the rest of the sentence after a tiny pause.  Yes you are, you’re special. 

The other day I almost got out of my car to go tell someone how special they were because I was just so enraptured by their animated nature.  An SUV attempted to make a left hand turn in front of me, me being their oncoming traffic.  I did what I like to do (far more insulting than the middle finger, I’m telling you)… I wagged my finger at her.  IT WAS FUCKING PRICELESS!  Said fucking moron immediately brings up her own claw, wagging it, and so clearly pronounces “DON’T YOU WAG YOUR FINGER AT ME!”… while poised precariously over a double yellow, foiled at executing a left hand turn against traffic like the fucking idiot she was.  I wanted to roll my window down and say “GASP! I didn’t realize they let the mentally challenged drive!  Kudos for almost getting it!”  I find out later that that woman had so touched my husband’s heart, he’d actually have been okay with me getting out of my car to talk to her, usually a circumstance that makes the pit of his stomach drop out.  So awesome was this encounter that it even led to he and I simultaneously wagging our fingers at each other only to erupt in laughter that we had both decided it was now the best way to insult each other.

Oh man, I need to figure out how to embed a picture, I have the perfect one for right here.

While chatting with my sister, she told me that while on a “transitional” vacation with her husband...as he transitioned from his year in Afghanistan to remembering how to be a husband/father, not always a smooth ride… she had an even better insult story.  I wish I’d gotten more details directly from my brother in law, but I only saw him briefly and didn’t know this happened.  Apparently after telling some kids to splash at the other end of the pool, my sister and BiL were accosted by the teenagers’ mothers, blind with rage that ANYONE would tell their little darlings they were anything other than perfect little snowflakes.  My sister said one of the mothers threw a drink at her husband as he got out of the pool… Remember, the key part of this story is HE HAD JUST RETURNED FROM A YEAR LONG TOUR.  Soldiers aren’t known for having polite tongues.  One of the attackers yells “You’re mother was a whore!” and he responded, without skipping a beat, “I fucked your mom last week.”  Oh yeah, mother jokes.  Always good.  According to my sister, she left the pool and her husband did not return for 3 hours.  I am betting that it was absolutely the best transitional vacation he ever had to take, he had 3 hours to stun an ill-equipped civilian who was being a douchebag.  All of this delivered in a completely calm voice, because, even more insulting, he didn’t find any of them threatening… and that always bugs the shit out of people.  I should have laughed at “Don’t You Wag Your Finger At Me” lady.  That would have been great!

I need to know more details, I finally feel like I have something interesting he and I can talk about when I see him next.  And in the context of excellent insults, I feel that he probably touched upon some excellent tactics.