KNOWLEDGE BEYOND REASON

A Hypo-Thesis on Cold

2010-05-29T12:09:00.013-04:00

Open a science textbook and it'll tell you (on the first page if it's a good one) that weather is a thing. A philosopher will tell you things change, which is the number one problem with weather: it's always changing on us.

As of today, it is May, a month known for its flowers brought on by rainfall from the previous month (or so the saying goes). But I know May for the pollen that comes along with these flowers, and worse, the ominous, foreboding heat that warns us of summer's inevitable arrival.

So we find ourselves in an undesirable place, my friends. Winter is long gone, and in its place we have plants overgrowing onto the roads and consuming our babies, and hot, hot heat that's only going to get worse.

Times like this, I lament the days of just a few months ago, when the trees stood bare-ass naked, embarrassed constantly by onlookers who mocked them. When the days were shorter, and the sun set at a decent hour. And when if you praised the Sky King, he rewarded you with a day of snow.

It is easy to look back on those days of below-50-temperatures now that high levels of humidity threaten to drown us in moist air. The wet, sticky, heat surrounds you, suffocating your mind and robbing you of all rational thought (I have reason to believe this condition led to the creation of Crocs). In autumn and winter, the thin air provides mobility, the chilled oxygen pokes your face, alert you that you are, in fact, alive. Perhaps more alive than ever before.

Blame summer.

It isn't simply due to the Hot Days' arrival that I find myself longing for autumn and winter. I miss the beauty these seasons bring with them. There is no greater weather phenomena than a sunny day with sub-50-degree temperatures. There's just something so wonderfully paradoxical about that kind of a day; when the air is crisp and pure, and you can "see you breath" every time you exhale. You find yourself wondering "How can it be so cold when the sun is shining so bright?" Add the festive colors of autumn leaves all around you, maybe a nice breeze, and there's no better place to be, for you are witnessing what I believe to be a natural splendor. Like when a hobo takes a bath. That kind of splendor.

Cold weather is also for the brave and daring. Only those with strong convictions dare walk outside in the cold of winter without a shirt. Most of the time, you'll see these brave souls at football games, obnoxiously jumping around and hollering. But they must do this, for if they stop moving for even a second, they are liable to freeze to death, and that just ruins your whole weekend right there. (I suppose the summer-equivalent to this would be wearing many layers and coats. But I've yet to see anyone try to pull that off.)

Yes, the cold is no place for wimps or grandmothers. Those who point out the obvious the very microsecond they set foot outside by proclaiming to all within earshot "IT'S COLD!" Thank you for the weather update. Now stop complaining, you're ruining the fun.

It is truly unfortunate we find ourselves on the precipice of summer. As fun as it is, summertime is not as great as the six months that follow, though we must not forsake this time of year, for without it, we wouldn't love the cold so much. Not to mention, this is the best time to eat ice cream, and everyone loves ice cream. For now we shall soldier on through the heat, for we know what rewards await us 3 months from now. Stay frosty, my friends.

Facts about America's 46 States and 4 Commonwealths (Part 1)

2009-03-14T23:15:00.006-04:00

Since the days of manifest destiny, a time when everyone in America thought it’d be a good idea to have two oceans, America has grown into the beautiful massive cow-like (Florida is its leg and nothing else) creature it is today. To date, there are 46 whole states and 4 commonwealths, or quasi-states, along with that magical rectangular district beneath Maryland. Of these 46 states and 4 commonwealths, about 19 of them are worth keeping around. Maybe 23 on a good day. But we must not discriminate, for these less spectacular states are the glue which holds the country together.

Then there are the hideous growths that are Hawaii and Alaska, which make America look like it’s still in the awkward stages of puberty and has attempted to cut its own hair and failed miserably. In the great Ikea coffee table that is America, Hawaii and Alaska are the extra pieces left over upon completion, so they were stuck on anyway so as not to be wasteful.

But I am not going to satirize Hawaii, Alaska, or even New Jersey. I am going to instead give you KNOWLEDGE BEYOND REASON about all of America’s beautiful states, quasi and real, for if you are like me, you are fascinated about the diverse landscape and culture of our United States/Commonwealths, and you yearn for more information about their origin, strange mysteries, and alarming horrors.

Alabama - First up is Alabama, a state in the South that borders the Gulf of Mexico, which is paradoxical when you think that no one in Alabama has ever seen a Mexican before. Alabama is an oddly shaped state, with that squid-like mouth protruding from its southern coast and whatnot. In all, Alabama is a basic, middle-of-the-pack state. Not good, but not terrible, and certainly not great. Though, Montgomery serves as a Mecca to those close to the civil rights movement. You can still see parts of the buildings there permanently damaged by high-pressure fire hoses.

Alaska - “Cold” is fair word used to describe the state of Alaska, a.k.a. North Canada, a.k.a. East Russia. Alaskans are known for their easy-going nature, love for the outdoors, and eighth layer of skin. Also, Alaskan children begin growing their facial hair around age 7, so if you see a small person with a beard comparable to that of Grizzly Adams, it is not a midget. It is a child. Though it is unfair of me to focus so much on the mutant Alaskans. The state of Alaska is actually quite beautiful. There is a plethora of wildlife, with everything from bears to kangaroos (I’m pretty sure they have kangaroos). And in time, they will all evolve enough to know what helicopters are REALLY for. Sorry Sarah Palin (not really).

Arizona - Perversely to Alaskans, Arizonans have only SIX layers of skin, enabling them to combat the extreme heat in the summertime. I have been to Arizona several times in the summer, and while I can’t say that I would enjoy living there, I can say the sidewalk cafés around Phoenix are very cozy. You haven’t lived until you’ve had French toast that was cooked on a sidewalk.

Arkansas - Arkansas is another state that I have graced my presence with. It is most known for the Naval vessel the Arkansas, which is the exact dimensions and the shape of the state whose name she bares. When the rising tide engulfs the shore and the waves roll over Arkansas, will the ship return to anchor there and replace the sunken state?

California - Arguably the greatest state in the union, it has been home to movie stars, presidents, shamed presidents, and more movie stars. There are so many great people from California that it is difficult to choose “California’s Favorite Son/Daughter/Red-headed Stepchild.” Unlike Minnesota, where the answer singular and obvious: Prince.

Colorado - When you drive passed this state’s borders and enter the realm known as “Colorado” (which is Esperanto for “Litter Box Shape”), a sign welcomes you with the greeting “Welcome to COLORFUL Colorado!” And it’s true: The multiple shades of brown convey a sense of what you’re looking at is so colorful, that it must be displayed in monochrome in your mind. Even the brown sign is like this. Amazing.

Connecticut - English for “Connect, I cut,” Connecticut is one of them New England-type states. I don’t know much about Connecticut, but I can at least pretend I do. I know there’s a well known Ivy League school located in Connecticut. I think it’s called State University of New Haven-Northeast Technical Community College. I hear they’re very picky about the type of students admitted to SUNHNTCC, turning away dozens of people looking for “an easy college to go to so my parents will just leave me alone about the whole higher education deal.”

Delaware - Chronologically first, Delaware is famous for being crossed by George Washington. Since we all know that story, let me tell you of the strange and forgotten lore of Delaware’s magical and sometimes cursed Twelve-Mile Circle. The Twelve-Mile Circle is the northernmost geographical border of Delaware. There is one section of land outside the circle which was claimed by both Delaware and Pennsylvania. That’s right, LAND CLAIMED BY TWO DIFFERENT STATES. Certainly this caused unbearable political tension between the two states, and it most likely led to a Cold War between the two (More interstate Cold Wars later. Yes, there’s been more than one!). Unfortunately, a Cold War focused on a small piece of land isn’t very… explosive, and the dispute was settled in favor of Delaware in 1921.

Florida - Florida is America’s hind leg. Its four major cities each encompass a different attribute to its complex character. Miami is the immigration port/cocaine capital. Orlando is a magical land where dreams come true. Jacksonville is the most populous city, thereby containing the most old people (explorers speculate THIS is the location of the Fountain of Youth). And Tampa is where disappointing sports franchises are born.

Georgia - The state of Georgia, also affectionately known as “America’s Australia,” since it was first colonized as place to send prisoners when overcrowding occurred in other colonies. But that was long ago, and now Georgia is the Peach State, and the reminders of this are all over: subdivisions, highways, malls, streets, statues, landmarks, and even old ladies are named some form of “Peach.” As if to say, “Hey, you’re in Georgia, the Peach State. Just in case you forgot.”

Hawaii - The isolated paradise that is Hawaii. Its natives are known for their knowledge of the ocean (it surrounds them, after all), philosophical adages, and use of repeating vowels in names (take “Liliuokalani,” for example). Hawaii usually minds its own business as it hangs out there in the Pacific Ocean, just doing it’s thing. But sometimes a family member decides to get married in the most remote location possible, while still keeping within US borders. So they go to Hawaii.

Idaho - Also known as “Ireland,” Idaho’s well known for its potatoes. Most people who have not been to Idaho do not know of its natural beauty, rolling hillsides, and puzzling geographical shape. No, most people know Idaho as the butt of their juvenile “Idaho? You the ho!” joke, which was admittedly funny in eighth grade, but now is obvious and produces zero laughs. In reality, Idaho is an underrated state. Its capital city, Boise, is enriched with Native American and Native American Exterminators history (the Oregon Trail passes through part of the city), which is lucky for them, as half of their economy is based on tourism. Visit Boise today and receive a free “I (potato) Boise” visor when mentioning this offer!

Illinois - Illinois is so corrupt, it refuses to be pronounced the way it is spelled. The same goes for every city and county therein. In fact, Logan county is so corrupt that it is actually pronounced “Harris.” I admit I know little more about Illinois than that. I have never been to Chicago, but I hear that the winds from Lake Michigan have it blown clear over to Clark City, Missouri this time of year.

Part 2 coming soon. By which I mean months from now, when it's done.

Hippies: An Exposé

2009-01-20T20:53:00.006-05:00

In the summer of 2001, I traveled to San Francisco with my family for a vacation. I was looking forward to seeing the Golden Gate Bridge, cable cars, and that silly winding road that serves no purpose save for testing your car’s ability to sporadically turn left and right, just in cause such a situation arises in your daily life.

But overall, I was most excited about the prospect of seeing hippies. I was in their city of origin, after all, so I wanted to meet the Hippie Czar, who I heard lives in a home constructed of hemp located deep within the San Andreas fault. You can imagine my disappointment when my parents shunned the idea of meeting a hippie inside an active fault. But I remained steadfast, and thought seeing just one regular hippie would be a fair consolation.

However, during the entire duration of the trip, not one single hippie was seen walking the streets of San Francisco. I don’t know why this was; I had thought San Francisco was the Mecca to all freethinkers. Perhaps they were in disguise? I looked out for any suspicious moving plants or trees with eyeholes, but saw nothing. I finally came to terms with the fact I would not see any hippies.

Looking back, the whole trip was a disappointment: The Golden Gate Bridge was about as exciting as a bridge and the steep grade of the city gave me a constant sense of vertigo. Golden Gate Park was flooded with wild Jack Russell terriers, the cable cars (not the drivers, the actual cars themselves) went on strike, and the only Painted Ladies I saw were some boring old houses. The closest thing to a hippie I saw was a homosexual prancing down the street.

In time, I accepted that the hippies did not want to be seen. Although I was just a boy then, I am certain the hippies’ foresight abilities allowed them to see what I would become: a messenger of harsh, unyielding truth and hilarity, so I hypothesize they did not want any more bad press. And this is understandable. But not acceptable. So...

HIPPIES! I’m calling you out!

Note: The proceeding is a completely biased, un-researched, false view on hippies past and present. The views expressed are not necessarily those of the person making them, for he is spiteful toward a subculture that really didn’t do anything to him, regardless of what he says.
Please keep this in mind and enjoy.

First off, did you know hippies are not technically human? Well, not all of them. But the earliest types of hippies were classified as a humanoid species: humanlike, yes, but capable of superhuman feats. These feats include: high tolerance for drug intake, multiple states of consciousness (such as “dead-asleep” in which the person has no pulse, but is somehow just sleeping), mastery of German engineering, celestial cartography skills, tie-dye sight, flower power, and extreme powers of non-conformism. Scientists have studied the mutated DNA of early hippies, attempting to retrace its origin. Though there are many theories, most biologists agree the source of the mutation was probably a result of bestiality. Most likely a drunk guy with a rhino.

In any case, these “first” hippies are now extinct; methodically wiped out by Richard Nixon’s undercover agents, who infiltrated the hippie subculture. Many men died over the course of the operation due to extreme acid overdose and subsequently exploding as a result. However, Nixon’s agents were eventually able to sabotage the hippies’ organization from the inside out by depriving them of the drugs their bodies had become dependent on.

Though the real threat were the humanoid hippies, the actual hippies that were human beings were almost just as dangerous. They followed the precedent set by the first generation hippies, just without the high tolerance for drugs and super powers. Regular hippies experimented with LSD and other psychedelic drugs, trying to enter alternate states of consciousness. When this did not work, they’d just had sex with each other.

They would also take part in the irritating act that is civil disobedience, chaining themselves to trees and planting random plants on freeways and in baseball parks. When they weren’t being a nuisance, hippies would protest whatever the government was doing that particular day or just voice their opinions on the most mundane of subjects, just to show how non-conforming they were.

Embracing eastern philosophy, the hippies set up a social system, whereas drug dealers were lower class along with protesters (better known as “crowd fillers”), poets and singers were middle class, and famous poets and singers were the highest in the system.

It was this generation of hippies that set up San Francisco has their headquarters, allowing their sphere of influence to reach all nations around the world and making hippies and global annoyance. A hippie Czar was appointed, then assassinated. When the second Czar was appointed and assassinated, it became clear the hippies had to move underground.

In the early 1980’s however, the hippies began to lose their voice in America. But they thrived in unstable nations like Russia and Germany, where they would graffiti on various stone walls and metallic curtains. Literally and figuratively. But for the most part, the hippie movement in the USA was old news, replaced by the Reagamaniacs, who, as the name implies, loved Ronald Reagan. But then again, who didn’t?

The hippies almost completely vanished the next decade. Some say they were forming a massive army forcefully take back the spotlight. Others say they were off smoking marijuana in a far off land. But, the truth is the hippies had grown up: they quit the drugs (on weekdays), cut their hair, bought a suit, and got a job. Kudos to you, hippies of the 1990’s. You were clearly the best decade of hippies.

It was also in the 90’s that a new hippie began to flourish. The “modern” hippie. These hippies were born in the mid-70’s, so they had no firsthand experience of the real hippie movement of that time. So they modernly read about it. On the internet. Pathetic.

Today, the modern hippies are so non-conforming that they have begun to run for public office, just so they can change policies and laws to their liking. This is both stupid and ingenious all at once, as the changing of laws creates an endless cycle of non-conformism and subsequent law reforms. The dexterity of this endless cycle is, I believe, more accidental than anything else. You hear me, modern hippies? You got lucky.

What does the future hold for the modern hippie? Will their culture make a comeback and once again try to overthrow the nation’s government? Would America stand a chance against an army of acid-driven hippie soldiers? Does anyone even care? Whatever the future holds, one thing will always be clear: Hippies have been, and will continue to be, a pain in everyone’s ass.

Note: The preceding was a completely biased, un-researched, false view on hippies past and present. The views expressed were not necessarily those of the person making them, for he is spiteful toward a subculture that really didn’t do anything to him, regardless of what he says.
Thank you for reading.

Your Holiday Gift-Getting Guide

2008-12-14T21:01:00.003-05:00

The merry holiday season is here, so it’s time to pretend to be happy and act like you don’t totally hate your family in the hopes of getting awesome gifts from them, since the key to a merry Christmas is based solely on CHRISTMAS HAPPINESS (aka presents). But there is a science to coaxing your family so they spend money on you. The holidays can be a volatile time as well, and experience is everything. Fortunately for you, I possess both the holiday know-how and KNOWLEDGE BEYOND REASON that will instruct you on conning your loved ones for presents.

First off, it’s important to go after family members with money: Maybe a rich uncle, pensioned grandma, or internet-mogul cousin. It is best if they’re the type of family you rarely see save for the holiday season and know nothing about the type of person you are. These are all great bases for your gift-getting, and probably where the best presents will come from (I’m talking iPods, bazooka launchers, homunculi, cars, and even Third World countries).

Do not make the mistake of going after a cousin with a part-time job, as any gift they get you will always be crappy electronics or even worse: something homemade. Also, do not rely on your parents. Their job is to get you clothes, and that’s all they’ll be worried about. Oh, and don’t trust your siblings as well; any presents they give you are either rigged to explode or coated in lead, since they’ll be trying to get you out of the picture once and for all.

Now that you know the basics, you can move on to the finessing of your rich, rich family members, while still watching out for the competition wanting to kill you. Acting is an important skill here, and it will do you well to take some “Pretending to be Someone Pleasant” classes down at The Learning Annex (and don’t even tell me you’re already a good person worthy of awesome presents, because you aren’t). There are many ways to approach your wealthy relative about the upcoming holiday season. Try these subtle hints mixed with flattering compliments:

“Might I say to you, dear Grandma, that your poodle hair is a look befitting a queen? Also, in the spirit of the Christmas season, would you consider buying a Marquis Jet for your dear grandson?”(Grandma will have no choice but to oblige to your request, for she will be FLATTERED beyond recognition. It is also important to remember that, while Grandma’s poodle hair isn’t a look befitting a queen (maybe a janitor’s broom, instead), lying is VITAL if you’re trying to get a Marquis freaking Jet.)
“Hey, Uncle Stew. I read in Forbes Magazine your multi-million dollar business is being investigated for fraud and money laundering. That’s great, just great. I always knew you were a good business man. By the way, I’d like NBC for Christmas.” (Although the FBI investigations may put a damper on Uncle Stew’s holiday, your acknowledgment of his business skills will be more than enough to get you on his list of people to buy gifts for. Unfortunately, Uncle Stew may not be around next Christmas, so don’t be afraid to up to ante for this year (maybe ask for CBS instead?))
“Nikko, my cousin! Your twenty-three hundred dollar suit hides your hunchback very well. I can hardly notice it! Since it’s the season of giving, I was hoping you could get me a Swedish supermodel. (It’s subtle and, assuming the suit really does do a good job of concealing that hunchback, flattering. Perfect, everybody wins.)

Ensuring your happiness come Christmas morning is not all fun and cons. After all, you’re not the only one vying for the attention of a family member, and at times, things can get pretty dangerous. You’ve got to watch out for those homicidal siblings of yours, not to mention sneaky cousins, desperate uncles, conniving great-grandparents, the outcasts that are your step-cousins, and those sketchy-looking second cousins.

Surely they are all out to get you either (a) out of the picture, (b) “taken care of,” or (c) left out in the desert with your desperate uncle, who in turn will eat you to survive.

It’s important you know your enemies, so you can always be one step ahead of them. Watch out for any inauspicious tales your cousins may tell about that time with the rake and the homeless man down at the park. That will definitely be a back-breaker, as your perfect-person persona you’ve worked on so tirelessly will be unveiled for what it truly is: a facade.

Blackmail is also a popular tactic used to block CHRISTMAS HAPPINESS, especially by those shifty great-grandparents (espionage is their specialty, after all), so it will be important to dig up as much dirt as possible to use as leverage should such an event occur. You can use this blackmail to form an alliance with another relative, or lower their Christmas expectations.

This competition with other family members also makes it challenging to not seem greedy. Often times a competing relative will low-ball the rich one, as to seem modest and not taking advantage of their prosperity. This will lead to a bargaining between you and your rich cousin/uncle/grandma and you will probably end up with a crappy BMW instead of that Lamborghini you wanted. A failure on paper, but that’s okay; there’s always next year.

This low-ball tactic may seem like a dick-move, but it evens the playing field. While I don’t recommend it as part of your defensive game plan, you should consider it should things get out of hand. That, or a candy cane that you’ve fashioned into an acute stabbing device (It serves as a camouflaged weapon WHILE retaining its deliciousness!). Just remember to keep them in one piece. It is the holiday season, after all.

If all is done correctly, and you’ve conned to the fullest extent of reason, and you’ve kept your evil kin at bay, then your Christmas will be a prosperous and profitable one. Keep in mind when weighing the success of your holiday that family togetherness and world peace has NOTHING to do with anything. It’s all about the presents! But this should be obvious.

It is true that Christmastime is the most wonderful time of the year. It is a time when families create a pseudo-utopia, in which everyone gets along and buys gifts because someone was born 2,000 years ago. All in all, Christmas rewards the masters of manipulation. With this knowledge in hand, you too can become a master, which ultimately leads to CHRISTMAS HAPPINESS.

Disneyland's Dark Secrets

2008-11-26T00:25:00.007-05:00

I can recall several memories of my childhood involving Disneyland and my many visits there. For the most part, these memories are all good and happy, which is why they are now repressed into the deepest corner of my mind. As a boy, I was, like many others, naïve and ignorant, but now it all makes sense to me.

Walt Disney’s Magic Kingdom is as littered with dark secrets as the park itself. Though Mr. Disney truly had honorable intentions (it is just a rumor that the creation of the park was an attempted coup d’état against the Jews’ stranglehold on Southern California—but it is true that Walt Disney hated them for it nonetheless), the insatiable greed of his successors has resulted in the cover-up of many hidden truths. For instance:

The park was built on the burial ground of a forgotten Mexican army, which was built over the site of a Native American village (in order to keep any evil spirits at bay, the park enlists the services of over fifty shamans and voodoo masters, though sometimes ghosts can be seen haunting the children of “It’s a Small World”).
The children of “It’s a Small World” have been animatronics since 1997. Heretofore the children were actually immortal elves in captivity.
In the Matterhorn lives a real yeti. His name is Toby. He likes basketball.

Do not be fooled. This is not Toby.

There is a basketball hoop inside the Matterhorn.
Sleeping Beauty Castle doubles as a VIP room for celebrities who suffer from narcolepsy.
“Big Thunder Mountain” dares you to hold your hands up for the entire duration of the ride. You cannot do it (without losing a finger at least).

New Orleans Square foretold of Hurricane Katrina when on August 28, 1965, a plumbing miscue flooded the area. Said chief plumber George Nader: “We were definitely not expecting that."
The creators of the “Alice in Wonderland” ride were high during the designing process.

On several occasions, a Dumbo elephant has broken free from the “Dumbo the Flying Elephant” attraction and escaped, taking the people inside along with it.

Tom Sawyer’s Island was closed briefly after it was revealed a crazed child abductor named Injun Joe was living in one of the island’s child abductor-friendly caves.

To date, 23 people have been reported missing after entering the line to “Indiana Jones.”
The safety instructor who greets you before you enter the “Star Tours” attraction has a hilarious hairstyle by accident.
In Mickey’s Toontown dwells a master swordsman. Legend has it that if a park guest ever defeats him in a duel of plastic light-up swords, he will tell you the secret of how to attain the high score in “Buzz Lightyear Astro Blasters.”

The Teacups attraction was cleverly added to keep the park’s restaurants afloat.

The tram from the massive parking structure to the park entrance emits a narcotizing scent that renders the victim obliviously happy.

This last bulleted note requires further explanation. As you can imagine, the spell that Walt Disney cast over his theme park to make everyone happy-go-lucky did not last forever. After 1975, the Magic Kingdom seemed to be more of a Regular Kingdom, so a tireless effort was made to restore the happiness back to Disneyland. This feat was accomplished by drugging the guests before they would even enter the park. This is why the parking structure was built, and why you love tram rides.

Along with a sense of utter happiness, the fumes from the tram create an impulse to spend all your money whilst in the park. The greed of this generation’s Disney family knows no bounds, and as time has moved on, prices on everything in Disneyland have climbed. Their goal is to (a) rid you of your money then (b) throw you out of the park. They can achieve the latter in a number of ways:

After an agent (guy dressed as a lovable Disney character) spots you without any money, they will alert HQ. It will then be announced that a parade will be starting shortly, and “parade officials” will set up the route for the parade. However, the route will always be directly in front of you and eventually you find the only place you can go is out of the park.

They're always watching...

Once you are determined penniless, a celebrity decoy will be deployed. Actors hired by Disney will follow him or her around screaming, “Oh my God, it’s [insert celebrity name here]!” Feeling nosy, you follow along, entranced by how this celebrity can lead a normal life. You notice how they smile and enjoy the theme park just as any regular person would. As you stalk them on the “Autopia” ride, you see how even celebrities can be bad drivers. There is a humanizing aura around this star, and you begin to realize that being famous isn’t a life of constant glamour, as sometimes they do ordinary things like you. After a while, you decide you’ve had enough stalking for one day, and it’s time to go back to your own routine, but then you realize you are no longer in the park. You are back at your car.

The swordsman from Toontown kills you.

THIS is the truth I have bestowed unto you. Feel free to go to Disneyland. I won’t stop you. But be cautious when you do travel to the Magic Kingdom, for who knows what other secrets lay beneath the secrets I have already told you.

Now if you excuse me, I must prepare myself for when (not if) the lawyers of the Disney family decide to sue me.

Some Notes on Trumans

2008-11-15T19:50:00.012-05:00

In a previous article, I briefly mentioned the existence of human-tree hybrids bent on the DESTRUCTION OF HUMANS. I’m sure the knowledge of their existence has troubled you for some time now, and I realize it was inconsiderate of me not to elaborate in full detail about this threat. So here is all you need to know about human-tree hybrids, better known as "trumans."

As you may have already figured out, the word truman is a portmanteau combining tree and human, so cleverly devised by the mad scientist responsible for their creation, a man who is unnamed and unacknowledged, for history often overlooks the deranged. While the accidental creation of trumans (and the subsequent explosion of the secret underground lab (as per the Mad Scientist Code of Ethics and Insanity)) is an interesting story, it is anything but relevant. All you need to know is that it happened, and now human-tree hybrids want to kill you.

Trumans are not like you and I. This should be obvious. That is, unless you’re a truman. And if that’s the case, STOP READING THIS NOW.

Over the years, trumans have been able to evolve to better blend in with us human types. These days, it is nearly impossible to differentiate between a human (friend) and a truman (wants to kill you). Though when first spawned in the 1860’s, trumans had a hard time fitting in and being inconspicuous about their deathly intentions.

Trumans appeared all over the United States almost all at once. In those times, they actually looked like the horrible love child of a human and tree, and they were very disturbing. Abraham Lincoln was alerted of the presence of these strange creatures, but was far too occupied saving our nation or something. So instead, Vice President Johnson was to decide the fate of the trumans.

Meanwhile, the trumans themselves had unified and demanded the DESTRUCTION OF HUMANS so trees would once again rule and blanket the world. Johnson called for a meeting with the truman’s leader, Gnarls Barkley. The meeting, held in Appomattox just weeks before the South would surrender there (Johnson had told General Grant that it was a nice town with plush hotels and that he should check it out someday), accomplished nothing, but the trumans successfully bribed Andrew Johnson in exchange for assistance in the DESTRUCTION OF HUMANS. Then a truman disguised as John Wilkes Booth assassinated Lincoln so that Johnson would be President.

But the trumans, who were still a young (sapling, if you will) race of gross humans, underestimated the democracy of the United States. Once people noticed Andrew Johnson was not only filthy rich, but that the trumans were still around town killing humans, and that Johnson himself seemed to be systematically trying to kill humans, they had the new President impeached. Luckily, a truman was able to infiltrate the Senate and save President Johnson by casting the vote that would keep him in office. A disaster narrowly averted, but a failure to destroy all humans nonetheless.

After their plan was unveiled, the trumans were cast away from civilization and the knowledge of their existence kept secret by the Department of Agriculture. The trumans were exiled to the Alaska territory. There, they continued to plot the DESTRUCTION OF HUMANS, and quickly began evolving into a less disgusting form. Eighty years later the ageless trumans, in their new human forms, finally slipped out of the Alaskan forest; out from under the watchful eye of the Department of Agriculture. It was time for them to become more humanlike: marry humans (whom they would later kill when the time came), take human names, do human things, and hold human POSITIONS OF POWER.

Harry S. Truman, though terrible at picking codenames, was appointed the new leader of the Truman Alliance to Revive Trees (or TARD) after Gnarls Barkley stepped down to become a songwriter (Unfortunately for Gnarls, he was killed by two rappers in 2002. They then stole his identity and formed a musical collaboration in his name). Truman’s job was to be elected President of the United States so that he may initiate the DESTRUCTION OF HUMANS. Truman first became a Senator as he tried to build “experience.” In 1940, the time came to run for Senate again, but the outlook was bleak as two other candidates appeared better suited for the position. Truman killed these men and once again became Missouri’s Senator. Four years later he was chosen to be Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s Vice President. Though hesitant at first, Truman took the opportunity to become the second-in-command behind the feeble FDR. It didn’t take long for Roosevelt to be reelected and then die, making Truman the first truman President ever (but not the last).

Now was the time for action. Truman showed no hesitation as he bombed Japan with nuclear weapons TWICE, killing hundreds of thousands. This was a perfect start to the Truman Plan: showing off the nukes would create an arms race that would lead to the destruction of the human race. This didn’t happen as quickly as he hoped, so Truman went to his backup plan: the recognition of Israel as an independent nation. His plan worked this time, as war continues to rage in the Middle East to this very day. Truman went on to execute further human-destroying tactics: defense cutbacks, civil rights reforms, the Korean War in his second term, and Soviet espionage in an attempt to piss off the Russians and cause a nuclear war. This plan failed.

Late in his second term, Truman’s secret agenda was slowly becoming public, and an angry human attempted to assassinate the 33rd President. The attempt failed, but other controversies had blemished the administration. Truman ran for President in 1952, but lost to someone who didn’t want to kill everyone. Figures. Truman spent the rest of his days consulting young TARDs and trying to stay active in the DESTRUCTION OF HUMANS, but had been worn down by his Presidency. He wrote a 1,023 page report on his tenure as President and sent it to the next leader of the trumans, Kevin Plank (Plank would take a less direct approach as leader, becoming an entrepreneur whose company sold clothes to people who tackled each other for a living). An exhausted Truman would die in 1972 in Kansas City. He was the last truman to take such great action toward the DESTRUCTION OF HUMANS.

Today, trumans are everywhere. They take the form of many different races, but one thing remains constant: they are endlessly plotting your death. You may think you are safe from them. You are wrong. It’s that kind of sense of security the trumans have worked so tirelessly to falsely create. You must always be wary, and never stop suspecting.

There are, luckily for you, some telltale signs that someone you know is a truman. These signs include the changing of hair color in the fall, and the ensuing molting of that person in the winter. Then in the spring, their hair will grow back. BE AWARE OF PEOPLE WITH THESE TENDENCIES.

Another way of making sure your friend, cousin, spouse, or parent isn’t a truman is to check their name. Trumans are notoriously bad at picking human names, and will therefore choose ones relating to trees, plants, and such. Some common truman surnames are: Truman, Ivy, Woods, Branch, Bush, and the obvious Iamahumantreehybrid. Before you ask, no, Truman Capote wasn’t a truman at all. And yes, Tiger Woods is (notice how he methodically wears down the spirits of his fellow golfers).

This brings me to my next sign. Trumans tend to be in the public eye. Celebrities, singers, athletes, political figures, authors, and the occasional murderer (understandable). Trumans do this so that you become entangled within their web of deceit that will eventually lead you to your doom.

HOWEVER, some trumans also lay low and cause the DESTRUCTION OF HUMANS on a much smaller scale. These are the most threatening to you. These are the trumans you may know and love (gross). Trumans usually befriend you at a young age, so be wary about people you’ve known for a while and your own child’s close friends. This is how they create that false sense of security I mentioned. Watch out for people who are able to stand very still for a long time, and who do not like to go outside at night (this is because they are unable to photosynthesize). Trumans also develop at a rapid pace, so keep an eye on those freakishly tall twelve year olds.

Trumans also care deeply for the environment. Take note if the person in question doesn’t live in a log cabin or a home constructed of wood. Also, watch out for people wanting to save the rain forests, protect landmarks, have a garden, and celebrate Arbor Day as if it were Christmas or an ACTUAL holiday.

One final sign you should know about, must only be used as a last resort: if you cut them in half, they have rings you can count to determine their age. This also is a dead giveaway they’re a truman.

NOW YOU KNOW THE SECRETS THAT THREATEN YOUR LIVELIHOOD. BE CAUTIOUS AT ALL TIMES!

A Halloween How-To: Scaring Children

2008-11-15T10:39:00.004-05:00

Scaring children is perhaps the most important thing a person can do on Halloween. It’s a way to set the boundaries of the neighborhood, telling kids that they shan’t be roaming the streets like the feral beasts that they are, urinating on fire hydrants and digging holes in your yard. Not to mention it is a tradition dating back to the very beginning of Halloween, when angry beaten Irish mothers would tell their children to behave or the Great Potato of All Hallows’ Even would bust in their knee caps, rendering the child incapable of praying.

Now I bet you’re asking yourself, “How hard can it be to scare little children on a night as frightening and dark as Halloween?” I would gladly explain if you would only stop interrupting me with your schizophrenic outbursts. Though you may think it to be a simple process, it is actually an intricate system comprised of different preparations based on the children’s race, gender, religion, personality, affiliations, and perhaps occupation (if you’re scaring in the 1940’s).

Here enclosed are some tips, tricks and situational practices for you to review before you partake in the Halloween tradition of scaring children.

COMMON CHILDREN-
SCARING TACTICS

The “JUST TAKE ONE PLEASE”
This is easily the most successful way to scare a child. Begin with placing a treat no child can resist (like, an apple or maybe some pennies?) in an unmonitored bucket on your front porch. This is what is known as the “bait.” Place a note on or near the bucket explaining that you’re not home because your eczema is flaring up and you had to go to the hospital. Furthermore, express to the children that they can only have ONE (be sure to bold, cap, italicize and underline this to show you mean it) treat. Since no child can resist not only disregarding an adult’s orders, but having a crap load of candy, they will almost 99% of the time take more than ONE treat. You WANT this to happen, because it leads to Phase Two of your diabolical plan.

Although your note to the snot-nosed ones claims you are at the hospital, you must remain at your home (this is called LYING and is the base of all pranks and scaring of children, so get used to it), hiding in the shadows and observing the bucket. Once you see a child taking more than their fair share, you must act swiftly and quietly. Follow the child while remaining in the darkness, and wait for your time to strike. When their bag of Halloween goodies is unguarded, swoop in and take back the extra candy from them. Place a note in the bag explaining you had been watching the whole time and that you reclaimed what is rightfully yours, and mention how you “got them good” and that they are no match for the wit and will of a grown-up. Throw in that they’re adopted and no one loves them for good measure.

Don’t feel bad. The child deserves it and your harsh, publisher-like criticism will force them to reevaluate their life and they will realize how unruly they were. This is probably the first time the child has been self-aware of their actions, and it is FRIGHTENING. Good job.

“THE MISSING BIKE”
In this elaborate ruse, you must target a child to be scared. Ideally, this child should have a bike, so it is best to stake out your target a few days prior to be sure they have one. Then on Halloween night, break into the garage and take the bicycle. After that, dispose of it properly via car compactor, local riverbed, or give it to your niece as a belated birthday gift.

When the child returns home after a fun night of trick-but-mostly-treat-getting and notices the absence of the bike, they will begin to cry alone in the street. This is when you walk over to the depressed child and ask why they are so sad. After listening to his or her incoherent babbling, assure the kid that it will turn up eventually. After giving them this tidbit of false hope, suggest alerting the proper authorities. Once a police report is filed and things seem to be taking a turn for the better, break out some false statistic about how only 3% of missing bikes are ever found. This will upset the child again. Go on to say that they can never trust the police because they are bad at their jobs. Feel free to instill distrust toward the federal government too (the earlier the better, am I right?).

On that note, leave the child. Now that he or she knows that there is no higher authority to put trust in, the child will lose faith in society and become insecure of their surroundings. Perfect. The child will not be able to sleep ever again, because you have impressed FEAR and UNCERTAINTY in them.

“THE ARNOLD PALMER”
Dress up as Arnold Palmer on Halloween night. Sit out on your front porch and wait for kids to come up to you wanting candied treats. If one of the ignorant children asks who you are supposed to be, answer the question truthfully. They will most likely reply with, “Who is that?” If that happens, rest assured everything is going as planned. Explain who Arnold Palmer was: pro golfer, 2-time winner of the British Open, 92 victories, and other fun facts. Odds are, if you are boring enough, the children will be completely disinterested, and state, “Golf is boring.” This is when you strike! Say, “Well, maybe it is boring to you now, but when you’re older, you will enjoy it.” The children will then proceed to run away screaming at the top of their lungs.

Terrifying, is he not?

The “UN-HAUNTED HOUSE”
Fix up your garage as a haunted house for Halloween night. Put a sign up enticing locals to come see it if they dare. You should dress up accordingly: Frankenstein, Dracula, or Arnold Palmer… any of those will do fine. Use fog machines and strobe lights outside to get them on edge and also to weed out the epileptic kids. This is where you must gather a group of them outside and start selling your haunted house as the scariest thing ever. Be sure to get their hopes up really high (don’t be afraid to throw in some lies here).

Now, when the garage door opens, the kids will find the entire haunted house destroyed. Surely their disappointment will be palpable. You must act surprised, and say “It must have been my pet puma! He is always ruining my haunted houses!” The children will understand, as they know how ornery pumas can be. You know you’ve done a good job of disappointing them when one kid says, “This is Halo 3 all over again!”

The children will go on with their night, unable to shake the cloud of letdown over their heads. Nothing will be fun, and the night, ruined. Seeking solace, the children will ask their parents why such a thing happened. If they’re good parents, they will tell their kids disappointment is a part of life and to get used to it. The prospect of further letdowns as big as the haunted house and Halo 3 will surely rattle their tranquil foundations.

TIPS FOR
BEGINNERS

PREPARATION
As I mentioned before, preparation is vital to this system. The tactics described above will not always go as smoothly as illustrated. You should practice every situation imaginable, even the ones that seem absurd. If you are unable to successfully execute a tactic, you will lose all respect and authority within the neighborhood. If this happens, you are best off MOVING to another city or state and starting over from scratch.

Another extremely imperative aspect of child-scaring is to NEVER underestimate the children. You must be wary of groups of children who could be the Little Rascals reincarnated. These children will be slick and tricky, and probably be expecting you to try to scare them. Probably they have slingshots just in case. If you feel like you can handle them, go on with your tactics, but be CAREFUL. If you end up tarred and feathered, don’t come crying to me.

IMPROVISATION
This goes hand-in-hand with preparation. If you are prepared, you will be able to improvise mid-scare. For example, if you are trying an “un-haunted house” and you notice a group of Rastafarian children, don a bald cap or shave your hair on the spot and claim it was a lion that ruined the garage to further impress fear into their dreadlocked heads. It pays to do research and tend to details.

Also, if you are doing a “missing bike” scare and you see a group of children together dressed as football players, don’t be afraid to call and audible by scrapping the current scare (even if you are in the late stages of it. Remember: it’s best to scare as many children as possible. If you feel you have time, you can come back to the “missing bike” scare later) and changing into your Arnold Palmer costume to initiate an “Arnold Palmer” on the football players.

TEAMS AND GROUPS
If you’re feeling nervous about going out on your first child-scaring Halloween, feel free to invite friends in order to “spread the wealth.” This is highly encouraged, as it will cover more children in the area and therefore spreading more fear.

For additional fun, form teams to compete with your friends to see who can scare the most children. Construct a trophy or use a fear-paralyzed child as a token of victory. It’s all about fun, after all!

Again, Halloween isn’t just for children. It’s really for adults who wish to scare children senseless. The smart kids are the ones who join in with the adults next year while others learn the hard way. (I recommend using children to scare other kids, but don’t overdo it, because soon enough those greedy bastards will want to start getting paid.) Just remember what has been taught to you and you will be scaring children in no time!

Paper! And its Hidden Agenda Regarding the Destiny of Humans

2008-11-14T20:45:00.007-05:00

Whenever I go into a library, I am instantly overcome with an unsettling feeling deep inside me. I begin to wonder, “Was it that red taco I ate that is causing so much discomfort?” Probably.

However, I realized recently that even when I do not indulge in the consumption of rainbow tacos do I still feel the pangs of uneasiness upon setting foot in a library. A sensation of an ancient duty that has yet to be fulfilled. This happens ALL THE TIME.

I am certain this has happened to you as well, which would explain why no one ever goes into the library. But why, you ask. That’s a good question, I answer. In my quest for KNOWLEDGE BEYOND REASON, I have uncovered the truth of why no one likes to go to the library.

It begins not with the construction of the first library some who-cares-billion years ago, but with the first war waged between man and nature. The genesis of our hidden destiny can be traced back all the way to the first spiteful chop of an innocent tree.

In the late third century western Europe, an epidemic of deathly and worrisome proportions came about. I’m talking, of course, about the manifestation of trees. Word first came about that the overgrowth of trees had turned the entire island of England into a forest filled with devolving humans. For people on the mainland, the number one priority became the containment of trees.

However, the trees had plans of their own: world domination, of course.

Verily, war ensued, and the humans won handily. The trees were no match for the intelligence and mobility of the humans, and their “Make leaves fall on them to death” tactic proved ineffective. So a treaty was to be signed declaring trees were to be at the mercy of humans. The treaty was titled the “Very, Very, Very First Treaty of Paris.”

(Today, the honor of this treaty is in jeopardy with the rising numbers of human-tree hybrids bent on the eradication of the human race so trees may prosper once again. You may know these people better as “environmentalists.”)

And so it was that humans and trees were able to coexist once again. Kind of. The humans became concerned that the trees may be plotting revenge. So the humans chopped down millions of innocent trees to protect their position of power. The murdered trees were all made into paper and kept in an underground cavern in present-day Andorra.

It was decided that the paper would be used for the pages of the Bible. This seemed like an honorable way to honor those honorable arborous victims. But suddenly, an old wise man appeared in the cavern with a warning to the humans:

“Heed my warning… The bark of the innocent must be cautiously dealt with to
avoid the wrath of those who wish doom to the world of Man. Never must the ink
of indifference touch these humble pages. Their slate must remain blank, for the
emptiness speaks volumes far beyond that of any written word.”

The old wise man was immediately killed for trespassing. However, some of the humans could not help but consider the man’s words. Others wanted to get the pages out of their secret cavern because, honestly, it was a waste of an otherwise perfect secret cavern.

Needless to say, tensions began to rise between the opposing views. Those loyal to the nameless wise man, or “Pagists,” believed the pages should remain blank just in case. Those who wanted the pages to be made into books, the “Sepragists,” just wanted this whole tree bullshit to come to an end. It wasn’t long before another war was imminent.

The Pagists needed to get the “Sacred Pages” out of the secret cavern. They figured this would protect the Pages, and get the Sepragists to shut up about the cavern. So in the dead of night, hundreds of loyal Pagists infiltrated the secret cavern and took all the Pages they could to their secret forest hideout in Azerbaijan. It took twenty-three trips from Andorra and back to get all 3,770,469 pages safely away from the grasp of the Sepragists. At long last, peace would finally reign.

The Elders of the Sacred Pages (the original Pagists) appointed scholars to protect the secret of the Sacred Pages, for someday the Sepragists would grow tired of their spiffy underground cavern and want to finish what they almost started.

Centuries later, the Sepragists DID grow tired of their cavern (it was all eroded and gross. Not to mention there was a leaky ceiling and it was no longer a cool place to hangout, dance to some classical music, and hook up with fair ladies anymore.), and DID want to finish what they almost started. So naturally, they went to the most likely place they could think of: some stupid forest hideout in Azerbaijan. And you know what? They were RIGHT.

The Sepragists—which now consisted of writers, anarchists, and Hummer-drivers—proceeded to cut down all of Azerbaijan’s forests much like their predecessors had. After months of destroying the oxygen-producing trees, the hideout was found. The two sides began to fight to the death to protect the Sacred Pages. Through their extensive knowledge of the most annoying type of torture—the paper cut—the Pagists emerged victorious.

However, the Pagists knew the Pages could no longer last in a secret hiding spot in a third world country. But, you may ask, if you can’t hide something in a secret hiding spot in a third world country, where can you hide it? Relax; it’s quite simple if you think about it. So think about it.
Did you guess: Make up some boring, uninteresting place that actually covers up your secret? No, you didn’t. While you lack ingenuity, the Pagists did not; they created the “library” to hide Sacred Pages deep in the halls of even more countless, normal pages. Let’s break down the word “library”: LIE is right there in the word, not to mention the very BEGINNING. Who would have suspected that the truth was right under your nose all along? Again, not you.

Millions of libraries were created all throughout the lands of Europe and Asia, each hiding one blank Sacred Page deep within its walls.

The Pagists appointed special guardians of the Pages and the libraries. Meanwhile, the Sepragists appointed special instigators to hunt down and make books out of the Pages. The principles of each guardian and instigator have been passed down from generation to generation, until the morals were etched into the very DNA of the descendants. So you could be an ancient descendant of a Pagist or Sepragist and not even have your true destiny awaken yet! Luckily for you, you can find out if you are one of these people just by reading this list of compiled traits and interests a descendant has.

THE PAGISTS’ GUARDIANS

We’ll start with the guardians appointed by the Second Elders when libraries were first invented. Awaken your destiny; then get off your lazy ass and fulfill it!

LIBRARIAN
They were the literal guardians of the libraries. Librarians were typically old people pulled off the street who hated loud noises and rambunctious children. These old people could not read, but exerted expertise in the arts of chasing children away with sticks. The Elders thought that, in time, the Librarian would transform into a new, wholly person dedicated to the library’s protection.

The modern librarian shows characteristics of the first Librarians, and what the Elders had hoped they would become. Librarians are still old and express animosity toward children. However, librarians today tend to be attached to their libraries, and range from average to above average in literacy.

So how do you know if you are a librarian reincarnated? When you enter a library, you will feel peaceful and want to keep it nice and quiet. You will then begin to “shush” anything that moves. You will also fall in love with the library and never want to leave.

SCHOLAR (aka NERD)
Scholars were appointed the task of “knowledge gatherer,” which was a nice way of calling them “book worms.” The scholars joined the Pagists long before libraries were used to house the Sacred Pages, and were really quite useless at this point. However, the Elders decided to reward their loyalty by giving them this task. Though, in reality, they are just there to be there. Since scholars have a never ending thirst for knowledge, they hardly ever leave the library and therefore are great fillers.

You know you are a scholar descendant when…

-you have a thirst for knowledge that cannot be slaked.

-you feel more comfortable in a library than in your own home.

-you are Asian.

SHAMAN
The Elders were confident in the Scholars’ and Librarians’ abilities to guard their establishments while indirectly protecting the Sacred Pages. HOWEVER, The Elders wished to take no chances in such valuables things as the human race. So they summoned the Shamans to put spells on their libraries, which would keep those with ill intentions and Sepragist morals out of the sacred boundaries of the library.

Today, you may know these shamans better as “publishers.” Yes, the highly paid, cock-blocking, suit wearing, dream smashing bastards of the printed literary industry. Publishers do everything in their power to keep writers in obscurity which would stop them from straying into a library. If you hate people who try to make an honest living by way of writing, then you are a shaman. I wish to no longer speak of this matter.

THE SEPRAGISTS’ INSTIGATORS

Sepragists of today are high in numbers, but are very unorganized. They are also either crazy, very stupid, or physically incapable of even entering a library.

WRITER
These crafters of the written word took an oath long ago to deflower the pureness of the Sacred Pages. To write your message on a Sacred Page is to discover the Holy Grail, or climb the Mount Everest of writing. However, the true destiny of the writer has been doomed to obscurity due to the tricky magic and hurtful criticisms of the shaman/publisher. Writers are unable to enter a library without feeling very sad and confused—which explains my trouble with libraries—much to the pleasure of the shaman.

ANARCHIST
When they first joined the Sepragists, Anarchists were pivotal in… Well, they were just crazy and liked to burn things. As you can imagine, this came very much in handy when it came to burning forests and punching homeless people. Back then, the anarchists were really just freelance instigators. Nowadays, however, most anarchists seem more interested in overthrowing organized government rather than extinguishing the human race—which, they should know, would be the absolute BEST way to overthrow organized government. If you are an anarchist, tell your Nazi friends about this Sacred Page thing.

ARTIST
Long-haired and beret-donned, artists long to paint their masterpiece on a Sacred Page. Artists joined the instigators after shamans made it impossible for writers to enter libraries, which angered Leonardo da Vinci, who hoped to write philosophies and draw out new blueprints for a rocket-powered cow catapult. He then enticed other artists to seek out a Sacred Page. Vincent van Gogh became the only instigator to discover the location of one of the hidden Pages, but lost his ear in a duel with a shaman guardian. Since then, no artist has had the balls to go near a library.
You are an artist if you…

-like to draw.

-enjoy rocket-powered farm animal catapults.

-have no balls.

HUMMER-DRIVER
Of course, back when the instigators were first formed by the Sepragists, a hummer-driver was something completely gross and different than what it is now. Amazingly, their goals REMAIN THE SAME. The Hummer-drivers of today do their part by systematically destroying the environment and voting for Republicans. They pose the greatest threat to the Pagists’ guardians today. How can you be certain you are one of these gun-toting inbred rednecks? Look in the mirror, look in your driveway, or look at your voter registration card.

It is now up to you to fulfill your newly discovered destiny!

Tom Medric: Master of Madness

2008-11-14T10:22:00.002-05:00

For generations, perplexing mysteries of the Tootsie Roll Pop have existed. Here we are, in the year 2008, still wondering how many licks it takes to get to that glorious Tootsie Roll center. But that is not the only mystery. There is another inquiry that has yet to be solved: Who is the madman responsible for the creation of the wondrous candy that bears the question with no answer? The truth will open doors to new perspectives on life, and quite possibly some paradoxes that will haunt you forever. Or not; we'll see.

It all started in 1931 with a man named Tom Medric. Tom spent his days in his underground laboratory, constantly attempting to invent items that would screw with the general public and people's heads. Many are unsure of why Medric had a personal vendetta against the people of America (Statistics indicate that during the early 1930's, people were the kindest they have ever been), but the truth is he was just a little crazy.

Medric spent many years in his lab, never rising to the surface world, fearing the sun's wrath and people's stares. Tom had focused his inventions mainly on machines and household items that were designed to stop working at critical points or pivotal moments, thus creating madness in factories and homes across America. However, Medric was never pleased enough—he needed something that would ensure his legacy and permanently inscribe his name into history books and the nightmares of children.

After many failed attempts at making menacing machines, Medric had a revelation one night while he ate dinner: food. That was the answer. He could create a candy that children would go crazy for. Literally. He began to plan it out: Though the original blueprints of the candy were lost in the subsequent explosion of Medric’s lab, it is believed that he wanted the candy to have an obtainable goal, but there would be a tedious enterprise one would go through to reach it. Eventually, Tom Medric ended up with what is today known as the Tootsie Roll Pop.

The madness behind Medric’s greatest invention was what would arguably become the most tantalizing question ever asked: “How many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop?” Medric knew it would be asked, and he knew people would want an answer. So, to ensure his legacy, he created each individual Tootsie Pop differently. Hundreds of thousands of different recipes, all with minor differences, filled his lab. This way, each Tootsie Pop would take a different amount of licks to obtain the objective in the center.

Medric sold his invention to what was then known as the Sweets Company of America (later becoming Tootsie Roll Industries). When he sold his invention, he demanded the candy be produced in the same manner as he intended them. He gave the countless different recipes to the Company, who swore to keep his odd tradition ongoing, all the while remaining oblivious to Medric’s true intentions.

Today, all of Medric’s madness has come to fruition: No one knows exactly how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop. Studies have been conducted by universities throughout the country—all yielding different results. Children have been driven to the edge of sanity, licking countless Tootsie Pops countless times, just looking for the same answer more than once. Morally, Medric achieved his aspirations, but family members have tried to keep his crazy side out of the media spotlight, so no one really knows the truth. But now you do.

The Made-Up Truth about Mother's Day

2008-11-13T10:20:00.004-05:00

The origin of Mother's Day has always been a mystery. Many theorists say aliens brought along the holiday from their distant universe. Others will argue that Vladimir Lenin conjured up the idea while implementing communism in Russia. The misguided suggest it's just a nice gesture toward the ones who gave birth to us. I'm here to tell you all those theories are wrong. So wrong, in fact, that the truth must be revealed to you before we all drown in a sea of fallaciousness.

The year was 1903. The bustling town of St. Louis lay in the mid-west as a beacon to those who feared oceans and opportunity. In those early years of the 20th century, St. Louis was not the unglamorous, under-achieving city that it is today. Actually it was; it just didn't have that fancy arch.

Donald Mother was a local businessman who took residence in St. Louis. He was a simple man, with hopes and dreams for the future. He was a thinker and a self-proclaimed inventor. He even took credit for thinking up the automobile. But, alas, Donald Mother was a nobody and therefore no one believed his incoherent rambles about engine parts and combustion chambers. In reality, Donald Mother was the biggest crack-pot in St. Louis.

Mother lived in the attic of the mayor of St. Louis, unbeknownst to the mayor himself. Donald was a near hobo, though he was never classified as such since he technically had a home. But the general public and even the mayor believed he slept in cardboard boxes in the humid allies of town. Mother didn't own a razor, so shaving was rare. But he tried to keep himself presentable by stuffing his overgrown facial hair into his shirt. The townspeople appreciated this gesture.

When he wasn't making up conspiracy theories of stolen inventions and Nazi treasure hunting, he sold used mattresses downtown. Like all nobodies, he dreamed of owning his very own used mattress store. He had a thirst for the good life: Bottomless molasses barrels, a brick home, and a German Sheppard he could call his own. Mother knew that to achieve his hopes and dreams, he would need to work his way up the used mattress corporate ladder.

Mother wasn't the best used mattress salesman. On the contrary, he was quite bad at his job. On many occasions he had given away used mattresses to unsure customers. In defense, he claimed they'd be back since they now had used mattress experience. Although he was costing the company hundreds of dollars, management refused to fire Mother for fear of backlash from the hobo community. Instead, Mother was kept at the bottom rung of the ladder where he would do the least amount of damage to the company.

However, when esteemed Director of Personnel Horace McThomas decided to retire early at age sixty-three, management needed to find a replacement. Without a successor in place, Donald Mother was named temporary Director of Personnel until one could be found. Mother was elated. Finally, he was working he way to the top.

But, like all men who seek power, Mother became mad with authority. He ordered that there be a no-selling selling policy. Mother said that without their used mattresses, people would become desperate for them; and once the policy was lifted, sleep-deprived zombies would flood the store seeking a mattress someone had already slept on. The policy was immediately rejected, and Mother was crushed.

That night, Mother went to the local tavern to drown his sorrows. After several hours of constant alcohol consumption, Mother decided to go home. Drunk out of his mind, he stumbled down the dark streets of St. Louis with an unfinished bottle of booze in his hand. A child waited on a street corner to help the needy cross the road. When the child asked Mother if he needed a hand, Mother broke the glass bottle on a lamp post and threatened the child's life with the jagged shards. Frightened and soiled, the child ran for his life.

Mother arrived at home, the mayor's house, and entered loudly. Trying his best to be stealthy, Mother crept along the foyer toward the stairs. After three steps, he fell over and crashed into the various priceless vases and pottery the mayor owned. When the concerned mayor and his family entered the foyer and found Donald Mother lying atop the broken artifacts, they called for the police. Mother looked up into the eyes of the mayor's startled children. "No one respects Mother," he mumbled. The police arrived and gathered Mother to take him to the station. Mother was put into a jail cell, where he would be dealt with the next day.

When morning came and the cops arrived at the jail to talk to Mother, they discovered his cell was empty. All that remained was the former facial hair of the used mattress salesman. Bewildered, investigators decided the case of the drunken hobo was closed.

No one knows what happened to Donald Mother in that cell. Many have tried to put the pieces of the legend together. Some have claimed that aliens came down and abducted Mother, shaving him before taking him to their home planet made of cream cheese (These are not the same aliens as the ones suspected of bringing the Mother’s Day holiday to Earth. Scientists speculate those aliens’ home world would be made of hugs). Other stories tell of the children of the mayor releasing Mother in the middle of the night, shaving him so no one would recognize him any longer. Whatever the case, the events of that night will forever live in infamy.

Years later, during the Great Depression, the mayor’s son was elected into Congress. Within the first week of his tenure, the mayor's son proposed a new holiday to boost morale the people of America. In his proposal, he stated, "No one respects Mother." Members of Congress saw this as an excellent opportunity for children everywhere to be forced to do nice things for the women who gave birth to them. The date of the holiday would be the second Sunday in May, chosen by the mayor's son for the day of the Donald Mother incident (He didn't remember the exact date, so the second Sunday in May was just an educated guess).

And the rest, as they say, is history. Though the meaning of Mother's Day is sometimes misleading, the sorrow one young boy felt for a drunken hobo immortalized the second Sunday in May. When Mother's Day rolls around next year, listen closely to your used mattress and you can hear the intoxicated mumbles of Donald Mother repeating, "No one respects Mother."