Tag Archives: assholes

Baby You Can Drive My Truck

The batter is warmed up, in the on deck circle. I love spring. He even has his Nike batting glove on.

The batter is warmed up, in the on deck circle. I love spring. He even has his Nike batting glove on.

Everyone has a right to my opinion and I carry a toilet plunger to make sure it’s forced as deep as possible down your throat.

I’m talking about, of course, everyone on the internet. That’s pretty much what it has come down to, right?

Take, for example, a video posted two days ago on YouTube of a road rage incident described as “Redneck Road Rage” and “Instant Karma.” The video quickly went viral. As I write this post it already has over 5 million views. Wow.

Click here to be transported to a dream world of YouTube magic: Redneck Road Rage / Instant Karma

According to the description on the video, the woman was forced to disable comments after she was issued “umpteenth” death threats and called “a b!#$h/c$%t/whore/slut” a “billion” times.

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Dear Guru: Offended

dearguru

Dear Guru,

I feel offended.

Signed,
Offended

That’s not much of a question but I’ll take what I can get. -Ed.
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Guru Fieldwork: Anthropology

garbageIt was a Tuesday
A day like another other day
I left my hermit space
For a nation in decay

I know, I know! I deserve what I get when I leave the house. Stepping out into the world is exactly like asking for it.

I can’t help it. Stuff happens. I guess it’s all my fault for observing it. If I was oblivious then maybe it wouldn’t bother me.

But what has been seen cannot be unseen. Leaving the house is where the empirical process of data collection begins.

Sometimes, rarely, it works in my favor. Like two weeks ago when we went to the movies. I had to pee so I walked into the auditorium-sized men’s room. Along one wall was a line of 20 urinals. I picked my spot and made a beeline. Along the way I spotted the guy. You know, the one asshole who exists in every social situation. He was standing at a urinal, doing his business with one hand, and talking away on the iPhone in the other. Millennials call that multitasking. I call it being a dill hole.

That’s when The Miracle happened in the blink of an eye.

Clackity clack clack clack.

The iPhone got dropped. And there it went! Zoom zoom! Clackity clack all the way across that pee-covered bathroom floor. The guy stood there, still holding his other device, and lamely watched it go.

It just goes to show that – sometimes – good things can happen. It was pure serendipity and, for one brief moment in time, I forgot all about pain. I was in the moment.

Last night I left the house again but the empirical results were decidedly not as fun. Not by a long shot.
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It walks like a duck

our-worldI had this science fiction vision once. It’s the farthest corner of the universe. Two humans find themselves in an alien jail. The jail is overflowing with multitudes of strange creatures, life forms and aliens. They all have differing numbers of eyes, noses, mouths and faces. Some are sticky to the touch.

Humans are extremely rare in that part of the galaxy. But, against all odds, somehow there are two of them in the very same jail. The jail is enormous, like eight times the size of the Death Star. That’s because it’s operated as a for-profit enterprise by some alien corporation. But that’s another story.

One day the two isolated humans happen to bump into each other.

In that moment, I imagine they’d find some thread of a shred of humanity and commonality that they would cling to like a life raft in that alien sea.
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The Urinal Problem

urinalToday we study a particular variation of the classic so-called Urinal Problem. For millennia great thinkers like Socrates, Plato, Leonardo da Vinci, Bill Gates and others have pondered the great mysteries of gentlemen’s restroom etiquette. Now it’s my turn to take the problem out for a spin.

The classic definition of the problem, of course, involves an infinite number of monkeys and an infinite number of urinals. It’s easy to see how a problem like that could humble even the greats. In a flight of hubris, even I once made the attempt, and was left humbled and feeling flushed.

For simplicity, we will closely examine a three-urinal subset of n and attempt to fully solve the problem variation.

Abstract. A man walks into a men’s room and observes n empty urinals. Which urinal should he pick so as to minimize his chances of maintaining privacy, i.e., minimize the chance that someone will occupy a urinal beside him? In this paper, we attempt to answer this question under a variety of models for standard men’s room behavior. Our results suggest that for the most part one should probably choose the urinal furthest from the door (with some interesting exceptions). We also suggest a number of variations on the problem that lead to many open problems.

Source: Springer Link – The Urinal Problem. The complete paper is available for purchase.

It was easy to theorize a solution for the three urinal-subset based on the process of elimination (no pun intended). This is also known as The Vizzini Gambit. (See: The Princess Bride.)

Clearly you should not choose the urinal in the center as the next visitor must choose one of the adjacent urinals. Thus, it is obvious that the solution must be one of the end urinals. But which one? Elimination only gets us so far.

As is often the case, field research is required to test theoretical constructs. And that’s where the shit hit the fan. (The results of that experiment are beyond the scope of this article.)
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Audible Ejaculations #graph

noiseTelevision commercials used to employ this rather snarky trick. (No doubt they still do, but I eschew commercial-based television so I don’t really know. I’d rather chew off my own leg and/or mate with Miley Cyrus.)

The trick worked like this:

You’d turn on the TV and select a show. You’d adjust the volume to a reasonable and comfortable level for watching the show.

Then, a commercial would come on and the windows would get blown out of your house. Shellshocked, with blood leaking from your ears due to the burst eardrums, you’d scrabble in vain for the remote control and fail. But it didn’t matter because it was already too late.

Like always, advertising is a subtle business with a deft touch.
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Audacity of Gumption

gumptionI believe that people have the right and freedom to believe what they want. I believe that’s a basic human right.

When I meet someone, who knows what they might believe? In all likelihood they believe in God. (In this country I’d say about a 70 to 80 percent chance.) There’s at least a fifty fifty shot their political party affiliation is different than my own. There’s a high probability they believe in at least one idea that I’d consider wonky. (Bigfoot? Probed by aliens? Michele Bachmann is human? Sarah Palin is a decent hunter because she uses a helicopter?) If you think of the political spectrum as a grid, the odds drop even lower, perhaps 1/16th, that we are in the same general neighborhood.

I don’t worry about any of that stuff. I base my opinion of a person on things like how they act, what they say, if there are nice, sound pleasant and reasonable, rub me the right way, etc.
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