No Shit

March 31, 2006

Here’s one for all of you out there who still believe in the Easter Bunny and Jesus. Science wins again.

Prayer ‘no aid to heart patients’

Praying for patients undergoing heart operations does not improve their outcomes, a US study suggests.

A study found those who were prayed for were as likely to have a setback in hospital, be re-admitted, or die within six months as those not prayed for.

The Duke University Medical Center study of 700 patients, in the Lancet, said music, image and touch therapy did appear to reduce patients’ distress.

Heart experts said patients could benefit from feeling more optimistic.

Therapies such as prayer and homeopathy are widely used, although past studies looking at the impact of care on patients’ health have had mixed results.

The results of this study contradict earlier findings from the same team which suggested a drop of a quarter or more in “adverse outcomes” – including death, heart failure or heart attack.

However, that trial involved only 150 patients. Other research since has found no evidence of any benefits.

Without beef, why live?

March 27, 2006

Looking through the headlines after work, I realized that if ever I had a soul mate, it was probably the 60 year old jobless alcoholic from Ahmedabad, India who set himself on fire today. The headline reads “Drunkard kills himself over meatless dinner”.

AHMEDABAD, India (Reuters) – A jobless alcoholic burned himself to death after his wife refused to serve him meat for dinner, Indian police said Sunday.

Sixty-year-old Mithailal Ram Sanjivan doused his body with an inflammable liquid and set himself ablaze outside his one-room house in Ahmedabad, the main city of western Gujarat state.

Police said the victim, who had been without a job for years, and his wife, Geeta Sanjivan, 54, had a scuffle over the dinner menu.

The wife refused to cook meat as they could not afford it.

Irritated by this, Sanjivan locked her in the house before setting himself on fire outside.

I shed a tear for you, my brother. If only you lived here in America. Whataburger Wednesday and some Natty Ice would have treated you well. A moment of silence, please …. …. ….

Moving on, here’s a video that takes place in the late 70s when cocaine was just completing its grip around the noses of the masses. The horrors of the 80s would soon follow. I think it encapsulates both the fortunate and the unforunate side of the era in one fell swoop.

The tagline read: “It appears as though this band had $10,000 to shoot a video and spent $9,975 on cocaine.” I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I hold cocaine responsible for everything that went wrong in the 80s. That’s why I refuse to partake of its powers. Neon pink, orange, and green outfits… perms… cold war. Ugly narcissistic things, really. There were a few good things to come out of the decade — the Garbage Pail kids, Hulkamania, and myself — but aside from that, it was a tragic 10 years. I truly believe that if cocaine continues to flourish in our communities, we will have an 80s-esque revival, and we will all be in a world of shit. Stay away from it, kids, for the sake of everyone, everywhere.

This last one reaffirms that…man, there are some fucked up people out there. And they shouldn’t be allowed to play Resident Evil 4 or watch Dawn of the Dead. Some asshole thought he was Leon and unloaded on a bunch of “zombies” in his house. Then he killed himself (probably because they wouldn’t drop gold or ammunition for him to pick up). Thing is, it was a zombie dress-up party and none of them actually wanted to eat him. Depressing.

Police are investigating the fatal shooting of six young revellers at a house party in the US city of Seattle.

They were killed, and two others wounded, when a fellow guest went on a gun rampage before finally killing himself when confronted by police.

They were at a “zombie party”, where guests wear make-up to make them look dead, in the city’s Capitol Hill area.

Police are baffled as to what sparked the incident, which took place in the early morning as the party wound down.

“We have absolutely no idea what the motive is,” Seattle police chief Gil Kerlikowske said. “These appear to be almost execution-style shootings. He expended a large number of rounds inside that house.”

The victims were five males and two females, aged from their mid-teens to their 20s, police said.

“It was a zombie party. People had a lot of make-up on,” Mr Kerlikowske said. “There was fake blood squirted, and people were made-up to look as if they were dead.”

I like this BBC story on US military technology. Imagine future battlefields with swarms of deadly attack-moths raining down on our foe. (Better watch out, China — unless you have a surplus of lightbulbs or headlights, you’re so screwed.) Well, it is now possible. As you read this, our government is even developing ways to use the butterfly as a bomb detecting recon unit. Scared? You should be!

The idea is to slice into the pupa during metamorphosis and insert a chip for the butterfly to form around. Later, when the delicate insect representing everything peaceful, free, and beautiful in the world emerges from its pupa, it will become a ruthless bomb sniffing battlefield buddy, controlled remotely by the chip deep in its being. It could also be equipped with microphones or cameras.

Did anyone ever watch or read All Quiet On The Western Front? The last thing we need are a bunch of butterflies zipping around our soldiers in our war zones. We all know what happened to Paul. “Don’t reach for the butterfly, Paul, don’t…shit, too late. :(”

DARPA has a history of destroying innocent things in the name of Freedom, however, so I have the utmost confidence that they will make this butterfly scheme work. They are known as ruthless cat-bombers and as the mentors to many Dolphin assassins. See for yourself:

WWII: Attach a bomb to a cat and drop it from a dive-bomber on to Nazi ships. The cat, hating water, will “wrangle” itself on to enemy ship’s deck. In tests cats became unconscious in mid-air

WWII: Attach incendiaries to bats. Induce hibernation and drop them from planes. They wake up, fly into factories etc and blow up. Failed to wake from hibernation and fell to death

Vietnam War: Dolphins trained to tear off diving gear of Vietcong divers and drag them to interrogation, sources linked to the programme say. Syringes later placed on dolphin flippers to inject carbon dioxide into divers, who explode. US Navy has always denied using mammals to harm humans

Other attempts:
-Arpanet information processing system – a precursor to the internet
-Self Healing Minefield – the mines reconfigure themselves to fill gaps when one or more are stepped on
-Brain Interface Programme to wire soldiers directly into their machines
-Mechanical Elephant to penetrate dense Vietnam War jungle. Unused
-Policy Analysis Market – online futures market where “traders” wager on future terrorism and assassinations
-Computer game, Tactical Iraqi, to teach troops how to decipher Iraqi body language

The mechanical elephant idea kind of amuses me. “We can’t get the dastardly Viet Cong with napalm, Agent Orange, or tunnel rats, but we’ll damn well get them with robot elephants!” Now I see why we lost the war.

The idea on that list that does scare the shit out of me, though, is the self healing minefield. That just sounds frightening. The thing I don’t get about it is how we can make a minefield that repairs itself mid-battle, but we can’t find a way to detect mines in postwar zones so children don’t step on them. They’re banned for that very reason by most of the world, and yet…well, whatever. DARPA knows best.


Ooooh, one… crowded hour… would lead to my wreck and ruin.


Happy St Patty’s Day

March 17, 2006

St Patrick’s day. Guinness and The Dubliners. I’m thinking about the lyrics to some of these songs, because I’m actually listening to them for once. Weila Weila Weile — the hell is this song actually about? I just realized tonight that it’s probably about a woman killing her own baby with a pen knife and throwing it in a river. Yeah. Then she’s hung for it. The Dubliners sing this with an entire crowd doing the chorus like it’s an age old family tune to warm the heart or something. And that’s why I love them. Irish folk music offers some of the best songwriting & lyricism around. They don’t just write songs about love or broken hearts — their songs are stories about death, famine, war, prison, robbery, betrayal, and getting drunk. Sure, you have songs like Black Velvet Band, about your love for a woman and how she destroyed your life, but it’s also about being sent to prison for seven years because you were holding a pocketwatch that wasn’t yours. That’s Irish.

One of my favorites is Seven Drunken Nights, which is about coming home to find your wife in bed with another man. Your wife denies everything, even the man lying in bed next to her. She knows you’re drunk and can’t see straight, so she claims her lover’s boots are Geranium pots, his coat is a blanket, his pipe a tin whistle, and his hands on her tits are just a nightgown… and only an Irishman could get drunk enough to see any of that. So, here’s to them and their green hills that I wish I could walk on again.

And here’s a joke worthy of the day:

Paddy Murphy is sitting at the pub drinking his Guinness when in strolls a drunken man. The drunk takes a seat, turns to Paddy and says, “Your mom is the best fuck in town.”

Paddy says nothing and continues to sip his drink. The drunk continues, “I just fucked your mom eight ways to Sunday. She was begging for more.”

The entire bar is hushed, waiting for Paddy to snap and beat the man. Paddy says nothing and continues to drink his Guinness.

“This is how I fuck your mom,” says the drunk, swaying against the bar. “She likes to fuck like a dog.”

Paddy has enough. He pounds down his drink and turns to the drunk.

“Go home,” he says. “You’re drunk again, Dad.”

Anyway, on to non-Irishy things. I’m not a really a big Southpark fan, but I thought it was worthy of noting that Isaac Hayes, a follower of the Church of Scientology, decided to quit his job as the voice of Chef due to “bigotry” not long after the episode that made fun of Scientology. Big surprise.

Again, I don’t watch South Park, so big deal — but fuck Isaac Hayes. Fuck him and Scientology. I don’t think most people really know what Scientology is all about. It’s very deceiving. I, for instance, assumed that Scientology was based around… you know… science. I figured it was some sort of spirituality that was based around reasoning, or fact, if that’s possible. The idea that the universe is an infinite expanse and that we know very little about life and that maybe there’s a god or something, kind of like the opposite of the bible. That’s not what it is, though. It’s a religion based around the souls of dead aliens who shoot out of Volcanos, and some other evil aliens, and 747’s flying around in space. I’m not shitting you — especially not about the 747 thing. That part cracked me up, because they’re totally serious. Here’s an artist rendering of the alien space shuttles L Ron Hubbard speaks of:
See? I wish they’d call it Alienology or 747-in-spaceology or something better — something that would give your average person an idea of what it was actually about. Instead, you hear “science” & “Tom Cruise” and figure it might be something new, radical, intelligent. Oh, how wrong you’d be.

You’d either have to be a crackhead or a puppet following the Hollywood herd in order to keep appearances to ever even think about signing up. My guess is that Tom Cruise is just a crackhead, and the rest of the actors fall into the puppet category. They must have seen him jumping around on couches and screaming about it or something, and they decided to become members themselves. But who really knows. All I know is that it helps solidify my belief that religion is garbage for the weak.

Links of the day:

1. I have to commend this man on his ambition. He types in the drink he wants and the computer spits it out for him. Neat. At the same time…why bother? Constructing a computerized bar is cool, but when it gets destroyed because you’ve vomitted your fancy robot-mixed drinks all over it, you’re likely to be a little upset. I say just do it the old fashioned way — open the fucking bottle and let ‘er rip. The beauty of drinking is that it isn’t complicated.

2. My favorite part in the following video is when he pulls out the two berettas from his back like John McClane in Die Hard. Yippee Kiyay motherfuckers. I would have hated this crap when I was in school, but I guess it does sort of prove a point:

3. Last but not least, while our senior citizens here in Florida can’t drive or vote worth a shit, they can pump iron like nobody’s god damn business, so think twice about assaulting them. Plus, they have huge, weird old tits like this woman, and nobody wants to be tackled by that.


TITUSVILLE, Fla. — Police say three robbers were armed and dangerous, but a 5-foot-1-inch grandmother-to-be was tougher.

Iris Davis, 62, of Cocoa, tackled one of three fleeing robbery suspects after a chase and crash in Canaveral Groves on Wednesday.

Davis is a state champion bodybuilder.

“I love to work out. I love the way it makes me feel,” Davis said. “I was born to compete.”

Three robbery suspects led police on a 75-mph chase that ended in a crash in front of the business Davis manages.

“I just couldn’t let the guy get away,” she said.

If there is a great big god somewhere up there beyond everything our puny minds can comprehend, sporting a big Santa Claus beard, I’d like to think that he’s more interested in things like getting people absolutely shitfaced for free, rather than obsessing over who’s going to hell or heaven for this or that. When he casts down his wrath, it is a wrath of pilsner and hops which tastes delicious on our mortal tongues. Otherwise, he sounds kind of like an asshole.

I have reason to believe this might be an act of god — either way, it makes me want to move to Norway:

OSLO, Norway — It almost seemed like a miracle to Haldis Gundersen when she turned on her kitchen faucet this weekend and found the water had turned into beer.

Two flights down, employees and customers at the Big Tower Bar were horrified when water poured out of the beer taps.

By an improbable feat of clumsy plumbing, someone at the bar in Kristiandsund, western Norway, had accidentally hooked the beer hoses to the water pipes for Gundersen’s apartment.

“We had settled down for a cozy Saturday evening, had a nice dinner, and I was just going to clean up a little,” Gundersen, 50, told The Associated Press by telephone Monday.

“I turned on the kitchen faucet and beer came out.” However, Gundersen said the beer was flat and not tempting, even in a country where a half-liter (pint) can cost about 25 kroner ($3.75) in grocery stores.

Per Egil Myrvang, of the local beer distributor, said he helped bartenders reconnect the pipes by telephone.

“The water and beer pipes do touch each other, but you have to be really creative to connect them together,” he told local newspapers. Gundersen joked about having the pub send up free beer for her next party.

“But maybe it would be easier if they just invited me down for a beer,” she said.

Yanni Slaps A Ho

March 7, 2006

“His hands are instruments.”

I was looking through Google News today and made my way past the depressing kidnapping and bombing headlines to the relatively hilarious bitch-slapping headlines. While it’s not cool in my book to obsess over stars because of their wealth and status, it is cool to make fun of them because they did something stupid.

If this news story doesn’t make you laugh, then it’s probable that you don’t know who Yanni is. In that case, like I’ve told others: just picture it says “Michael Bolton Arrested in Alleged Domestic Dispute” and then laugh heartily. Same difference, really. You could also use “Kenny G” as a replacement as well. Really, any easy-listening vomit-inducing artist with bad hair will work just fine.


Yanni Arrested in Alleged Domestic Dispute

Yanni Faces Domestic Battery Charge
By Leon Fooksman
South Florida Sun-Sentinel
Published March 7, 2006, 7:54 AM CST

Easy-listening music star Yanni spent a night in jail last week after being accused of slapping his girlfriend during a dispute at his Manalapan, Fla., home.

Yanni, 51, whose legal name is John Yanni Christopher, struck the woman after he told her to leave his beachfront home and she was gathering her belongings Thursday night, a police report said. The woman, Silvia Barthes, 33, of Miami Beach, had a mark on her face and accused him of grabbing her arms and throwing her on a bed, the report said.

The Greece-born keyboardist and composer faces a misdemeanor domestic battery charge. His West Palm Beach-based attorney, Orlando Gonzalez, denied Barthes’ allegations. He called Yanni a non-violent man who would never hurt anyone.

“He’s the most gentle man around,” Gonzalez said. “His hands are his instruments.”

Barthes told police that Yanni was verbally abusive after they returned from dinner. At his house, she was getting her things when he grabbed her clothing off the hangers in the closet and threw them on the floor, she told police. Yanni then gripped and shook her by the forearms, threw her on a bed and jumped on top of her, she said. During the confrontation, he slapped her face, she said.

Police confirmed that Barthes had a swollen and bloody lip, the police report said. Barthes, who declined medical treatment, could not be reached by phone Monday.

Yanni explained to police that she kicked him, even though officers didn’t find any marks on his body, the report said. Yanni hurt his finger from a watch she was wearing, police said.

Yanni and Barthes called police separately, Gonzalez said.

Yanni spent about 11 hours in jail. He was released on his own supervised recognizance Friday, meaning he must check in every week with authorities until the case is resolved.

The musician, who has released more than 10 albums, bought his $7.7 million-appraised home in 1998.

Manalapan Police Chief Clay Walker said Yanni has never been a problem.

“This has never happened before with him in our community,” he said.

It’s Oscar time! Time for Americans everywhere to huddle around their TVs and worship the rich & famous for being rich & famous. What I love the most is E!’s coverage before the actual show. An hour packed FULL of the truly self-absorbed, walking around in expensive clothing and wallowing in vanity. Jeepers, I can’t get enough. They’re wearing bow ties this year, and the women are showing more shoulder and back! I just blew a fashion load!

Sarcasm. Lots and lots.

I just don’t understand the obsession with the stars. I’m beating a dead horse here, because I’ve spent all of my rant-juice on Paris Hilton and her worthlessness in the past, but man, I’m not sure I’ll ever find the answer. I like movies too, but that doesn’t mean I give a crap about the personal lives of the actors in them. Nor do I really care about the politics of studios or academies and the awards that are given out (which is personal, if you ask me). I suppose the average American’s… or Canadian’s or Briton’s… life is just incredibly boring, and getting a peek at the life of someone who is wealthy, famous and good looking lets your average douche feel somehow involved with these celebrities and this lifestyle that they’ll never, ever experience first hand. They get to live vicariously. When Clooney wins a shiney gold award, they feel like they’ve won one too.

Which brings up a whole bunch of other questions, like, why would you want to be one these stars? Are you that unhappy with yourself and your situation? Do you really believe that what’s most important in life is being famous? Your picture beamed into the living room of millions? The short, simple, and sad answer from most people would probably be “yes.”