The Next Big Thing

we interrupt this blog for a special keynote speech from Jony Ive, Senior Vice President of Design for Apple, Inc. : "What we wanted to do was create something really special for transportation in this new millenium. Here at Apple we've wanted to create something new and innovative. You know, transportation is something many hold really dear to their hearts. In this new century we wanted to tackle space exploration from a totally new perspective. When we imagine all the stars and all the possibilities our species have yet to conquer, this is the base from which we can begin to create something really special. And I think we've done it. We started with a new vessel from which a team will conduct a new mission. Using the newest and most advanced hardware we could patent, our designers have engineered something really special. A vessel capable of interstellar travel. Using our newest A12906 processor, this intergalactic exploration platform will reach the farthest galaxies enabling us to explore strange and different worlds. Possibly new life and new civilizations. Here at Apple we want you to boldly go where no other man has gone before. We call it the iStarship E. This ship is the most advanced and capable starship our universe has ever seen. With its sleek and bold presence you'll know that Saturn or Ursa Minor are really only the beginning. We're really excited and we've already begun to apply for patents for the next starship. When our founder dreamt of controlling this world, we wanted to go beyond that. Now, with a warp drive and self-containing shields, we will control the universe. And the controls utilize that touch interface that you've all grown to love since the introduction of the iPhone. I really believe this changes everything. Again." So, there you have it. The newest product went beyond IOS 7 and kicked NASA's butt. Next week's blog will concentrate on Apple's newest creation - they've taken a car and used the robotic vacuum cleaner Rumba and created something even more special. And they're calling it the iCarumba. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Politically Speaking I Don't Like You

Anonymity is the best disguise. At least that's what Herbert Hoober once said. He wasn't really known for anything. He joked that the only thing that separated him from being president was a "b". No one really knew him except for a few fellow park bench bird feeders in central park. Everyday, around 11am, he would sit down with the rest of the bird feeders in central park and spend a few minutes throwing bread crumbs to those nasty little creatures. He would supply the bread and the birds would pelt my car with their refuse. Not exactly the best situation but he did own the car wash down a couple of blocks and he would give me free tokens as a way of saying "I'm sorry". Of course I would still take out my bb gun around 11:30 everyday and try my luck. Stupid creatures. But Herbert was an idealist. He would ponder the greater meaning of life and give you whatever he came up with. One day, quite by accident, he was hit by an exterminator while crossing the street. Obviously the exterminator felt that it was a waste of his time and resources to try to get rid of the birds when Herbert and his buddies would continue feeding them on a daily basis. Herbert felt no ill will towards the man but the lawsuit he filed against the man's company certainly helped in buying the daily bread and a car wash. And Herbert would recognize these funny little moments and say something extra ordinary such as "Money doesn't grow on trees but it helps buy bread." He was a pure genius. And it was little euphemisms, such as that one, that would cause you to scratch your head a little and then laugh your butt off when its true meaning hit you on the side of your head. Usually the same side you were scratching to begin with. Yeah, everybody who knew Herbert would tell you the same thing. Herbert was way ahead of his time. But that's only because he would set his watch ten minutes fast. And Herbert was always doing stuff like that. If he had a faucet leaking he would take a big hose and fit it over the end of the faucet and run the hose outside over the the neighbor's door downstairs. Then he would call them up and ask them if it was raining. Pure genius. But there were few who really knew Herbert. He was a quiet genius. But he was always reflecting on the nature of the world and our part within it. He would never let a moment go by that had extra ordinary potential. He was very sensitive to such moments. One day, several years ago, while plowing the garden on his roof, he stopped and looked out over the horizon. He chuckled to himself and went on. He was always doing things like that. And he was quite the innovator. For years people had buckled or tied their shoes. Herbert was tired of wasting all that time. At first he developed the velcro strips to hold the flaps together. And then it hit him. Reaching into his kitchen drawer he pulled out the magnetic discs he had been saving (I'm not sure what's all in that drawer but it nearly falls out everytime from the weight) and he sews them in one side. Then he took the broken fork he'd been saving (in that same drawer) and developed the first magnetic flap fastening system ever for a shoe. Of course it wouldn't catch on until a Nike executive just happened to be walking in Central Park one day. But Herbert never really wanted money. He just wanted something easier that would work for him. It was this same attitude that created the hostility Herbert felt towards politics. Anytime someone would bring up an election or some other mention of politics Herbert would say the same thing. "They're just a bunch of jerks without the expertise of even trying to be jerks." That was one phrase of Herbert's that took a few years to really grasp the true meaning Herbert was intending. Herbert had no love for any of the process. And it was personal. Herbert had lost his wife to politics. One day, while Herbert was weeding his garden on the roof, he heard his wife of thirty three years yell out the window, "I'm leaving you, you Schmuck!" and that was the last he ever heard from her. It wasn't until years later that he learned the awful truth of the cabinet position she was chosen for and had left him for. Secretary of the exterior was not a well known position but a position none the less. And he was never sure how she was qualified for such a post or how she even knew the president. But Herbert vowed that day to never forgive the president or politics in general. For Herbert, even though he couldn't stand the old hag, was still a man of principle. You don't just leave your husband after two or three decades 'cause the president asks you to. And especially for a post that no one's ever heard of. Herbert died a lonely and fruitless man. He would always regret never planting any fruits in that garden he loved. But the Herbert we remember was a man who would always be remembered for those free tokens. Now I have to pay for those car washes. But my aim with the air pistol has gotten a lot better. And the birds are a little bit more skinny. Sometimes you just have to let life catch up to you. Or set your watch a few minutes slow. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

The longest runway

In my mind a creative force reckons with a factual mindset. For me I love technology and dreaming of the what if's. But there are parts of my brain that isolate the crap that goes beyond imagination and creativity and I file it away under impossible. Then there are the files that go beyond impossible. It's kind of like the "Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me" bin. The kind of stories in movies or clips in videos that require me to dig into that bin and take a look so that the whole premise will pass muster and I'll be entertained. So, how important is it for me to be entertained? That's the question. I do like to be entertained. I enjoy a good movie or tv show or youtube video. But it's not so vital for me that I put my brain on hold and allow myself to drop several i.q. levels so that something will make sense to me. This seems to be occurring at a high rate in the movies coming out of Hollywood (and elsewhere). If the premise is so beyond reason to begin with then I'm okay to allow my creative mind to ponder a possibility. Such as the case in the recent Oblivion movie. Our world had been destroyed in a world war with aliens. Ok. No facts to back up any of the story. It was a sci-fi movie. I can go in to the movie and allow myself to journey to another time in the future and see the what-if's. I'm really ok with that and I love the possibilities. Then there are the movies like Life Of Pi. There's no way an island was filled with lemurs and eats it's inhabitants. But it was a fantasy movie with a really good story line and great visual effects. Really liked it. Then there are the thriller adventure type movies. No, a man can't jump from 20+ stories and somehow fly/maneuver through the air and hit the top of a car with his back into it and not suffer internal damage. Unless you're Bruce Wayne. But it's ok because he's a superhero. You want him to be ok. You want to know that some men are beyond mortality. But then there's the "jumping the shark" moments when you either shut your brain down and forget all of the rules of physics and allow a movie to feed you a huge line of manure. This recently happened in the newest installment of the action packed thriller (there were probably 45 minutes of action and several moments where I dozed off) Fast and Furious. Fast and Furious 6 has fast cars. It had those moments where the cars were going fast. And occasionally every car was flipping over and crashing. Then there were the moments where the cars were revving their engines and then they were going fast. But there where several moments where I closed my eyes just before stupidity closed in. (Warning!! The following is a movie spoiler but does it matter?) Van Diesel leaps from his car on the interstate (actually he's propelled forward from his car as it crashes) and flies across an open space of interstate that's suspended several miles up from the earth and catches in mid-air the love of his life as she's propelled off her tank as it get stopped from dragging a car on a wire that gets caught between the supports of the interstate. As he catches her in mid-air air he continues across the open (mile high) meridian and lands on top of a car that had stopped moving at just the right speed. (I forget things such as if the car was stopped or moving but my brain had stopped functioning at this point.) As the two look crazily at each other they get up as if they just tripped on the sidewalk or something. I believe I actually closed my eyes before they landed because I knew exactly what was gonna happen and my brain just couldn't take any more stupidness. It was beyond the realms of possibility and I just couldn't do that much more impossibility to my brain. That was one of many impossibilities that the movie wants us to forgive so that we'll be "entertained". There are moments such as two men fighting on top of a freight car careening down the tracks going over 60 miles an hour that we can forgive because somehow it is possible. Then there are the movies which have us believe that the human body can endure fist fights that seem to last 20 minutes and suddenly the fatigue catches up to them all though the first two minutes should have done them in. We can forgive these scenes because they enhance the story/adventure and add the thrill in thriller. Or there will always be that moment when little Johnny (who should have died somewhere between the opening credits and 15 minutes into the movie)gets the magic cure that saves his life and we see the happiness that follows because it would have been too sad for Johnny to have died at such a young age and now the mother and the stranger (who's fallen in love with the mother and now loves the son)can start their new lives together. The mother and the stranger met on the bus or at the bus stop or she spilled coffee on him as she was waiting on him at the restaurant where she makes minimum wage but somehow her son is able to stay in the hospital for months waiting on "the cure" to happen. It's all so far fetched but we allow it. It's for our entertainment so we forgive them for lying to us and pushing the boundaries of our creative processing. But please don't push a 25 mile long runway on me. (Warning!!! Another spoiler for Fast and Furious 6 that doesn't really matter because you know there cars are just too fast to lose.) So, the last car chase begins down a long runway. A runway that stretches from the airport and goes 20+ miles across flat land without hills or waterways or animals or trees or villages or convenience stores. For 15 minutes these cars are racing down the runway and the plane just can't take off. This cargo plane filled with a couple of cars (one drives off the plane and it's still too heavy) and some wooden cases and some plastic cases. But don't add the weight of a couple of grown men. That's just too much weight. So, the plane keeps taxiing down the runway. At full speed. For 15 minutes. Towing several cars on wires. And being shot at with canonized wire launchers. And no one trying to shoot the tires. Or the cars are not fast enough to get ahead of the plane to shoot the pilots. Or no military intervention from the military who are the ones who have lost the "CHIP!!!!!!". Nope. Just a cargo plane going at full throttle with a bunch of cars following it going at full throttle for 15 minutes. Down a perfectly flat runway without any lights. At night. At some point my brain gave up and I just hoped my soda would out last this final scene. At least a few lucky ones could jump from the cargo hold of the plane several hundred feet above and land squarely into the jeep running at a constant speed under the plane and they land perfectly into the back seat. And only after 15 minutes of going down that runway. But perhaps the most unbelievable part was the end scene where the girl who was living in paradise with van diesel just walks away when the she realizes that the other girl with amnesia should be the winner and so what if they were living in seclusion on a remote tropical paradise. He did love her first and the poor thing does have amnesia. So what if she had everything. After all, she's a cop before anything else. And that's where I was pronounced brain dead. Yeah, I could possibly believe a guy leaping off a crashing car and catching the girl in midair several hundred feet off the ground and crashing into the other side of the interstate onto the windshield of a car. Yeah, I could possibly believe a 15 minute runway and the ultimate ball of fire as the plane immediately explodes and is fully engulfed and of course the hero walks through 2000 degree flames. But you honestly believe I would believe a woman living in paradise would just walk away to her cop "family" and let him continue on with the girl who is suffering from full amnesia? I can only take so much. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

The school bus or traveling psych ward?

As any good driver would do I slammed on my brakes as I noticed the school bus sign swing out. As the little man stepped off the bus I felt his gaze turn upon me. He couldn't be more than 8 years old but his eyes held the wisdom of the ages. As he looked at me I suddenly felt very alone and afraid. There was a hidden power in those eyes. Someone, somewhere, once said, "Don't give him any sugar. It'll make him hyper." And it is still true today. The boy did not take another step toward the house for what felt like an hour until his father called to him from the front porch. But I could not leave for the sign still remained. The symbolic "STOP" that was of the highest authority in our land. And he could not turn his gaze from me. We were in a silent war brought upon us by no one really. I did not choose it neither did he. I wasn't really sure why he was looking at me. What had I done to him? He would not turn and simply walk to his house. What was keeping him so curious about me? What was to be my fate? I had literally met thousands of children in my travels but none as strange as this young man. Would I have the courage to go on? Would his father be able to get his attention so he would just go inside? How many other victims would suffer the poisonous stare from him? Perhaps it was the thoughts I was thinking prior to stopping. Could he have heard what was playing in my mind? Did he know my little skit I was playing out when I saw the bus come to a stop. The little skit went something like this: I was enjoying a brief excursion to pick up parts for the work I was doing on a street not too far from the street I was currently on. As I saw the bus coming to a stop and the sign swinging out I came up with a funny little scene in my mind. I was talking to an unknown, unseen passenger and I was talking about the rules of the road. "Sure", I said, "you have to stop but there's no law that says you can't wail on your horn to make them hurry up across the street." I chuckled to myself as I saw the shocked look on the unknown, unseen stranger's face in the seat next to me. "Yeah, just wail on the horn and yell obscenities until they hurry up and get across." I even described a scene where the cars front tires were locked up and smoke was coming from the back tires. The children would run across, driven by the fear of being run over, when the brakes finally let the smoking tires in the rear engage the pavement and the car would careen forward and the wide eyed expression of the child as the car lunged forward. "Ha, ha, ha" I laughed out loud as my van came to a halt and I watched the child exit the bus. Then reality came crashing down all around me as I could not escape that cold, deadly stare from one as young as this one. "But there's no way" I said to myself. "He couldn't have read my mind. It was just a funny little skit I was imagining just to entertain myself." But somehow, through an unknown ability even his parents weren't aware of, little Johnny had read my thoughts and felt the fear from my little skit. And then the fear turned to rage as he got off the bus. And the rage identified it's cause. And that cause was me. So for the next hour we did not dare move. My foot was firmly planted on the brake and I monitored the gas gauge to insure I would not run out while we were locked in this stare down. His father called multiple times and then, as I felt the final strands of lifeforce about to exit from me, the child turned away and waved to his dad and began the walk down the sidewalk to his house. But he did make one last stop. And took one last look. As my van approached 90 miles and hour I knew I had escaped with my soul in tact. But it will be a long time before I venture back to Webster street. And never will I watch any more children come off the bus. From now on I'll just pay attention to that mounted, swinging stop sign to allow me to continue. If I've learned one thing from this experience it's this - don't dare to dream when the school buses are out and about. He may be riding and waiting. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

8 tracks and dvd's

As I've mentioned before the hardest part about playing chicken is getting the head movements down. They do this rocking thing with their heads from the neck and it's not the easiest imitation. But I digress ... Mortality is the word for the day. Mortality this and mortality that. It's a curious word filled with t's and a m and several vowels. But the meaning of the word is definitely a finality to the human existence within the usual life form we humans take on. As we visit this place called earth and confuse the crap out of our parents for the first twenty years or so it becomes evident that the passage of time and the evolution of music media continue on. It was really Thomas Edison that invented the first iPod. Consisting of a metal dough roller and a needle to record on the metal dough roller the first Dubstep album was completed. He would later invent the cylinder phonograph in 1877 which would lead to the 8 track a few short years later. Thomas was the first of many to "rock out" but he did it before anyone else ever thought of banging their heads or trying to be cool. He would also invent the portable mister to help oneself cool down on a hot summer day. But this was done more out of selfish reasons rather than motivated by a heart for society. His mother called him one of the most selfish people she had ever met up until the day he introduced her to dc voltage while she was taking a bath. Elephants did not fare any better by his experiments with ac current neither. But this had to do with Tesla and his new ac motor. Tesla believed that ac current was a better form of electricity and could be transmitted much simpler and cheaper than dc. It was their collaboration, much later, on several rock albums that the true genius of Edison and Tesla was seen. Highway to Hell and Hell's Bells would become two of their best selling singles under thier synonym AC/DC. But music has taken on many forms in its recorded media. From the Victrola to 8 tracks to bluegrass music our entertainment forms have been varied throughout the years. I, myself, can remember shopping at our old Walmart for single 45's while Mom completed her shopping for the week. With my one dollar allowance I could buy songs from the old Bee Gees (not that Saturday Night Fever stuff - I'm talkin' OOh, You're a Holiday, Everyday) and classics like Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody which was actually sold in two 45's because the song was so long. The second record contained illustrated instructions for proper head banging during the musical interlude found at the 4 minute mark. I still have my signed version from Freddie Mercury stored in a security deposit box at our local bank. It is a shame I had to break it in two to fit in the box but you do what you have to do. My brother would also shop for music and we would yell at each other "Hey, that's mine." or "Get your x?!&ing hands off that 45, it's mine." Or "If you don't put that down I'm gonna cut you." Those were fun days filled with memories of cigarette smoking cashiers who would throw your new found treasure into an old paper bag and ask if there was anything else you were gonna buy. Many of those cashiers are gone now. I like to think they're in a better place like Shopko or JC Penney's but I digress ... Music has changed much now. At this very moment, as I sit here in my boxer's with no shirt on, via the wi-fi, I can download music onto my phone without having to smell a single cigarette. The world continues to turn and the music marches on. Much like a marching band. And we wait in anticipation for the next form of media our music will take on. Someday it may just be implanted wirelessly into our brains via bluetooth or redtooth or greentooth or whatever else color tooth there may me. But it is exciting to dream and imagine where our music will come from. And what experimentation will provide us with our next entertainment. 'Cause we are bored very easily nowadays. It takes a lot for us to get excited about a new song or new artist because every Tom, Sally, and Lachocolate out there is a potential "unknown" just waiting to be discovered. And their 356 youTube videos they've posted of their newest cover songs will guarantee their stardom. Or American Idol or the Voice or Sweden's Got Talent. They'll be found and there's no stopping them. And once their privacy and sanity is gone (Have you seen Taylor Swift lately?) they'll be another name in a long list of names in our pop culture annals. But so goes fame and fortune. And so goes our sanity. As I mentioned so long ago, mortality is the word for the day. Because in the end the music will live on whether it's on a cassette tape or 8 track, digitized and scrutinized. But we are just mortals. And our mortality never outlives the music. So go ahead. Bang your head like there's no tomorrow. Because this could be your last day. And Wayne's World is still the best training video for correctly banging with Bohemian Rhapsody. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

The Greatest Scientific Breakthrough Not Yet Achieved

The thirst for knowledge would forever stir the creative and analytical mind of Dr. Terrence B. Davidson-Meyers, Jr. It drove him to research in the areas of mind control and altered-pacificitic altruism. In fact, no one had ever heard the term altered-pacificitic altruism until Dr. Terrence B. Davidson-Meyers, Jr. had coined the term in the early 90's. It was just one of those things. But the real story here is the breakthrough, perhaps the biggest breakthrough in research and development of any kind in the twentieth century, that the good doctor discovered quite by accident. And as with many discoveries discovered quite by accident, Mr. Dr. Terrence B. Davidson-Meyers, Jr. would not understand the full ramifications of his discovery until the end of his life. It was just one of those things. So, as the story goes, Dr. Davidson-Meyers, Jr. was working on a formula for dry roasted chocolate. A few had attempted this marvelous delicacy for many years but no one had refined the dry roasting process necessary for chocolate. This is what drove the good doctor more than anything. The desire to create something few had attempted and even fewer would recognize for its greatness. The doctor didn't get out of the lab much but when he did he never failed to make it to the 7 eleven for a quick fix of chocolate. It was the melting part he hated the most. Many an afternoon he would reach into his pocket after remembering he had some chocolate only to find a soggy mess that had melted inside his pants. And if it was one thing Dr. Terrence B. Davidson-Meyers, Jr. could not stand, it was a soggy mess in his pants. So, out of desperation for a solution the good doctor used the cancer research money he had been funded with to solve this dilemma that pierced his very core. How many times had he went to reach for that tasty treat in his pants only to pull out his hand covered in a huge brown concoction. The time was right and mankind would just have to wait for the cure for cancer. There are moments when we receive such clarity, such insight into our own well-being and this was one for Dr. Terrence B. Davidson-Meyers, Jr. So, like any good researcher knew, the answer could only be found through buying more equipment. It was at this moment our story takes on a new twist. The doctor understood a lot of chocolate would be required but forgot, temporarily, the effects of chocolate on the human digestive system. He also temporarily forgot that 7 Eleven was closed for the week for repairs from the incident involving the broken brakes on the bulldozer working across the street. He also temporarily forgot his diabetes. But, all of that did not matter at all to our story. It was the bathroom break that he would have to take before he went to the 7 Eleven. His favorite breakfast consisted of two bowls of Count Chocula breakfast cereal and this would result in a 10:am bathroom break every morning. But, in his excitement upon starting his newest research project Dr. Terrence B. Davidson-Meyers, Jr. forgot about his daily 10:am break because it was only 9:45 and he would never jump the gun on things of this triviality. So our doctor was out the door on his latest mission. It wasn't until 9th and Edwards street that the doctor was reminded of his 10:am routine. He ran. He ran as fast as he could back to the lab but alas he was too late. As he got off the elevator turned backwards toward the unfortunate people who shared that elevator ride the brilliant doctor came up with another breakthrough in a long line of breakthroughs. He would solve the dilemma that faced every man, woman, and child on this planet. The equalizer of the rich and poor. The trait we all had in common. Some refer to it as the poopy dance. Others refer to it as the "I gotta go and you have to let me in now!" yell. But we've all been there. The need to evacuate the waste products that have accumulated within our own body. So the doctor started his newest research in a two step process. One -understand the electrical impulses that cannot be overridden by any internal command from our brain. Two - develop an internal mechanism by which we can control when and if we evacuate those waste by-products of food and drink intake. The doctor would spend the remaining years of his career to find such an answer. After 40+ years of funding, de-funding, gambling, begging, and borrowing Dr. Terrence B. Davidson-Meyers, Jr. had the answer. It was a warm brisk morning on April 5th, 2036 that Dr. Terrence B. Davidson-Meyers, Jr. exited his lab and walked briskly down the street to his favorite 7 Eleven for his daily fix of chocolate. Triumphant and jubilant the good doctor had the answer. A little bit of mind control combined with self-hypnosis and a pill he liked to call anti-laxative, Dr. Terrence B. Davidson-Meyers walked happily down the street toward his local 7 Eleven. It was at that very moment that luck and a sleepy taxi-cab driver would meet Dr. Terrence B. Davidson-Meyers, Jr. on that fateful day. The doctor would never wake up from the coma and would die seven years later with a secret he alone would know. The answer to the most common problem mankind had always faced and never conquered. He had the answer but like any foolish mad scientist will tell you it was his and his alone. No one would ever see the notes or find the hard drives he kept the files on. No one would steal his greatest triumph. And no one would ever know without his name being known as the founder of Terrence B. Davidson-Meyers, Jr.'s alpha derivative. The hours of waiting for the bathroom would have been saved for millions. The untold accidents from drivers speeding home to go #1. All of this was the dream for Dr. Terrence B. Davidson-Meyers, Jr. and no one would ever know he had solved this greatest problem for mankind. It was fortunate that 10 years earlier his young assistant, who had diverted money to the cancer research the lab was originally given, had worked tirelessly towards an answer and discovered the cure. But true greatness can only be measured by the amount of benefactors of such work. It is true that his assistant was responsible for saving the lives of millions. But who can measure the suffering of billions who have ever stood outside the only bathroom door and yelled, "Hey, what the heck are you doing in there? Are you gonna be done soon?" Only history can give us the answer. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Let me be clear on this

Sometimes we find out quickly. Other times we find out after years of being lied to and the lie is so convincing. I'm the type of person that scrutinizes everything. Really? Two for one sale? How much is the normal one for sale for? Do I have to buy two and then get one free or do I just pay the price of one and you give me two? Does the warranty still apply for both? Is there a warranty on the watches you're selling out of the back of your truck? Will you be here next week if there's a problem with either one? These are the questions I ask now. When I was younger I fell victim to a scam while I was in the military. Can you imagine a young man from west central Illinois without much life experience with a military haircut on a beach in San Diego would be the target of a scammer? Well, it happens. I was sold a camera (it still sits in my dresser drawer as a reminder of life when you could still buy rolls of film) and it came in a packaged deal. You had to take photos with the thing. And, there were literally thousands of dollars worth of coupons for developing the film. It came in a bag and a three ring binder filled with coupons and coupons of developing credits. You just had to take the pictures. Now the camera itself was a nice camera. It even had this circle that you had to adjust just right with your manual focus ring so that you were taking the most awesome picture you could imagine. And you only had to find a store that took that coupon or mail the roll of film off with the coupon and hope it came back developed. And there were hundreds of coupons in that three ring binder. So, if you did mail off the film, with the hopes it would return, you had to pay the postage to mail it. And then you had to wait the week for it to be processed. Now, imagine going through that today. We can't even wait the twenty seconds for a photo to upload via the wireless routing or data connection on our phones. And then, after twenty seconds, we feel fulfilled. Because the memory is documented. But twenty five years ago, actually closer to thirty, there was no uploading or cloud memory or the word digital was something you mentioned in front of alarm clock or wristwatch. We have changed in the past thirty years. Some for the better but a lot for the worse. And we're more tired. We push ourselves and fill our hours with so much nonsense and extra stress that really is unnecessary. For example - two guys open facebook accounts. Two girls open their own facebook accounts. The girl notices the other girl has posted a facebook pic with the guy in it. But the girl really likes the guy but the other girl doesn't know this but thought the puppy running in front of the table where the guy was sitting was adorable. The first girl confides in her best friend, the second guy I mentioned, that the other girl is uploading pictures of the guy she really likes but can't tell him because he doesn't have a public profile. Now the other guy feels a little threatened by the first girl I mentioned because he has a secret about his feelings for the first guy I mentioned but doesn't have the courage to make his orientation public on facebook yet so he secretly has a crush on the guy that the first girl has a secret crush on. Now, the second girl has a crush on the second guy I mentioned and doesn't know that he's on the fence if he's fully gay or just unsure of who he is. Now the first guy, without knowing any of this drama, decides to look up people from his old school on facebook but wants to keep his profile private without attracting any "loons". Without realizing what he's doing he invites the third girl (I hadn't mentioned her yet) to become his friend because he's mistakenly requested her friendship even though she isn't the same gal he was originally thinking of. But the third girl is friends with the second girl and without knowing what she's doing, accepts the friend request from the first guy which infuriates the first girl who is already friends with the third girl who has no idea that the first girl, who she friended because they used to work together at a Taco Bell when they were in high school, has a stalker thing going for the first guy. The first girl decides to slash the tires of the third girls car and the officer who shows up to take down the information is the second guy I mentioned. When he recognizes the third girl from the his facebook friend's pictures in the first girl's account he starts to realize who she is and decides that the third girl needs to come in to the precinct and answer a few questions about where she was the night before when he notices her McDonald's uniform and remembers a report filed about a robbery involving someone in a fast food restaurant uniform who stole a wallet from some guy (not part of this story) in her neighborhood. So goes life with facebook. But we're killing ourselves through unnecessary stress. And the scams perpetuated on the internet are countless. Everyday, if you actually looked at the spam heading in your email account, you would see offers for many cures and money investment schemes and other offers too good to be true. And we think it's just mostly on the internet. But we have it in real life also. Ever listed an electronic on craigslist? Oh the joy of weeding out the terrific, too good to be offers to pay extra for your item if only you would ship it to their half-brother who just took on a missionary journey for his church and they just left on a business trip and can't pick up locally. What!!!???? You'll pay me an extra two hundred dollars to ship it and all I have to give you is my paypal account information? What a deal. So life is exhausting even when you're just trying to clean the closet out and get rid of that extra iPhone. What has happened? And we fight off the scams so much but the really big scams are treated with an air of calm and rationality. Well, he's the president and I'm sure he knows best. Surely the I.R.S. wouldn't use their influence to ruin a man's life through audits just to facilitate the results on an election. I'm sure the United States Attorney General wouldn't lie to the public about something as serious as a gun program gone bad. But we, (not me because I'm pretty vocal about these scammers), just accept the scam and try to go on. Life is filled with too many important things like facebook and angry birds. And has it really been two days since Twitter heard from you? What kind of uncaring, out-of-date recluse are you? If only we paid as much attention to the head guy in the White House as we do to our friend's newest uploaded picture. But we can actually say something to them can't we? We can actually start a fight with that uncaring radical who accepted that friend request from the dirtbag who broke up with us twenty years ago but what can we do about the unimportant things like the leadership of the country we live in. I'm just a waiter in a family restaurant and they're gonna do what they're gonna do in Washington. And even here in our local politics the machine continues to grind away at our freedoms and economy until it's just another day in the neighborhood. What can I do? I gotta keep working and buying groceries. No matter how soon the wheel is gonna fall off we are afraid to rock the cart as they say. The rabid dog isn't biting me so why would I want to poke it with a stick. It might turn it's crazed eyes on me and then I'll have to protect myself proactively. So scams are scams and we just try our best to not get taken by the promise of an internet email. But the really bad scams are so bad, so complex, so dirty, and so ingrained into our world we choose to not see them anymore. And the few who do make a stand for the rest of us will be executed after the next convenient agency meeting of the minds controlled by somebody but not the President of the United States. Because that would make him no more better then that guy that just sent you a friend request you never even met before. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Patience is a virtue or picking dingleberries on a cool spring day

Unlike most people I was born in an elevator on the way up to the third floor of our local bank dropping off samples of cardboard for the bank manager's wife who happens to love cardboard. So, even from an early age, my life seems to be filled with waiting. I wait in line at the bank. I wait for the mail. I wait for a line to open up at Walmart and watch Hector and his wife jump in front of me in the line that just opened up. As I get older I should be getting used to the wait. But it would seem the opposite is happening. Perhaps it's an accumulation of hours of waiting that have done in my patience capability. Watching the young enter into the new world of waiting gives someone such as me, with a little wear and tear, the urge to scream at them and yell, "Get out of line while there's still time. You're young and you have your whole lives in front of you. Don't give in to the lie. You will get older and more frustrated. No one cares how much your feet hurt or back aches. You're gonna be listening for hours to automated answering services when you call customer service. There's still a chance to get off this ride. You're young and hopeful. Look what it's done to me. I looked like you once. There were no lines running across my forehead and bags accumulating under my eyes. This is just the beginning of a slow painful death and you still have a chance. Run, Forest, Run!!!" Forest Gump was right but he stopped the speech a little bit too short. My momma always said Life's like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get. But one things for sure. Once you eat enough of life you're gonna get the runs. But Forrest was right. Every time you step into line you just never know who you're gonna meet. Could it be that elderly lady who waits till the cashier's placed the last item into the bag when she remembers she has to find her checkbook and start filling out the check. (We've all been there. Her hand trembles as she battles the arthritis and bad reading glasses to make out her illegible writing. Then, after hours of trying, she hands it to the clerk and asks if they'll fill it out for her.) Or the young mother with one too many kids who always has that one that likes to stare at you and you feel the glare pierce through your very soul. Or the man who knows for a fact that the item was definitely $8.73 instead off $8.98 and could they check that price for him? Yes, life's a box of chocolates that you wish were small little grenades you could lob at those people as you feel that last ounce of courage fade away as they've taken another five minutes of your life you will never get back. It is in these instances that I begin the dream sequences of my life. Those moments when I ponder life, the universe, and everything. I dare to dream an alternate reality. A place where I magically transport to the front of the line. Where no one's ever heard a child scream at the top of his lungs that he's tired and hungry and just wants that candy bar you promised him if he was good. A magic place where seating is provided and no one would jump in line ahead of you and everyone keeps track of who was before them. A place where people remember where their check book is and have their money ready to pay upon completion of their shopping checkout. A world where a CSR is really a customer service representative and not some small asian lady from Hong Kong who is just trying to make 12 cents that day by working for a phone company half way around the world. That's where I go to hide while I wait. And then, every so often, it happens. There isn't anyone else in line and the little light is on indicating the line is open and the person at the register gives you a little smile and says, "I can take you right here. How are you today?" And they immediately and expertly drag your items across the scanner and you're walking out the door not sure what universe you just left but you feel better for the experience. Or that moment when you hear the business answer your call and the person sincerely wants to help you figure out why you're favorite show can't be displayed on your tv. Or that moment of ecstasy when your order is all there when you get home and there's napkins and ketchup and everything and you know someone with an i.q. in the triple digits was working that day. I do believe many alternate realities exist and somehow we cross over to a reality filled with caring and responsible intelligent people who just want to work to benefit society as a whole and not collect a paycheck in anticipation of that next job where they'll finally receive the fame and fortune that should be theirs rather than another 8 hour day filled with people with little patience left. I know I'm not alone but on some days the world seems so alien to me I just wonder how far I was under when "they" took me and transported me to this harsh and desolate place where the I has taken over the WE. And so I wait for the return visit. When I was little I would stand so quiet in line for my milk. The cook would smile at me and say, "There you go little one." Life wasn't so bad in that line. But that was 40 years ago and now I wait in line at Walmart for my milk. At least there's the dingleberry hunt to keep me occupied. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Genetics cannot be influenced by your breakfast cereal

There are two types of people. I could give you examples of this type versus that type such as fry people versus baked potato people but that's been way overdone. Actually it boils down to common sense. For years now, scientists have been proving this theory by contacting the federal and state agencies requesting grants for this or that research and there are those who lack enough common sense who give these scientists the money while the scientists kick back in their laboratories and watch the Jerry Springer show. As far as they are concerned their research is validated without lifting a vile or a beaker. And, thus, is the pudding with the proof. Common sense is the one attribute of the human experience that cannot be bought, taught, sold, borrowed, manipulated, or copied. It cannot be surgically enhanced or increased with medication. It is the rarest possession a person can own and cannot be stolen. The only thing that can influence a person's measured abundance is the other human commodity we call feelings. You're angry - you kill. Common sense would tell you that it's not worth it to go to jail. You fall in love with that looney woman that walks and looks like an angel but has an i.q. of 85 and lacks the ability to understand the universe outside of her 5 ft. radius. Common sense is important and valuable but we give way to the heart and hormones. And political rhetoric. We oooh and aaaah over pretty words and what we want to hear and somewhere within are cerebral cortex something misfires and we hush our brains and that voice from within that tells us this man/woman is lying to us. We just can't seem to find the high ground upon which we were meant to stand. The slop bucket tastes good when you're hungry. Like hungry for hope and change. When the world doesn't make sense and those words seem to be correct but there's no common sense to them. Then there are those who listen to the common sense and appear to be callous and cold to the influence of those silver tongued snakes in the grass. For years I sensed (common sense gives you that sixth dimension where there's no actual smell but you know the rhetoric stinks) that that charismatic man was gonna lead our country down a dark path that may be impossible to back track from. I verbally warned people. I rolled my eyes whenever I saw his face on a magazine cover or the latest droolings from some "news" outlet on tv. Where was people's common sense I wondered? How did we go down the rabbit hole and get past Alice? Why is gasoline at such a high price when we could produce it so cheaply from our own vast resources? Where is the common sense? Now genetically we have changed as a species. You can't add all those chemicals and introduce emf fields from all the electricity wired throughout our country without modifying the genetic structure of its inhabitants. Give a little thought to the glass of water you just drank. It's filtered poop. Or the cob of corn you ate at that cookout last Saturday? But that's fresh from the farmer's market you say. Well, unless it was organically grown in the purest soil without influence from the polluted air or treated water it was given to grow, you ate a product that was treated with herbicides, insecticides, ammonia, and probably a hundred man-made chemicals that has changed it's genetic structure. You chose (common sense is overridden by the body's need to replenish it's energy source) to eat that. You even added butter/margarine which came from a cow or taken out of some vegetable or plant the margarine was made from. Now consider that cow and what it was fed. Pretty unpure stuff I imagine. So goes our food chain and water we depend upon. And we've altered nature in the name of science and society. It is in our need to prove ourselves with scientific research and bettering our society that common sense left the house so long ago. So, as I said, it really does boil down to two types of people. Those born with common sense and those who are lacking of it. And the problem, at it's very core, is the inability of those with common sense to override these choices made out of pride that effect the general population and those who fundamentally already lack common sense and genetically produce more offspring who contain even less common sense. The term "good head on his/her shoulders" has lost its relevance. We may have the good head but our hearts and pride get in the way of what that head should be telling us. And we continue to prove our superiority over all the other species to the point we are killing ourselves off through genetic modification. Our hearty and rational selves are going away in the name of science and progress. When will it end? What will bring about our demise? Well, a few key scientists, using "free" grant money which came out of some very wealthy, charitable redistributors in Washington, are working on that as we speak. They've given up on finding a solution. They're just trying to figure out the date and time of our demise. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Past, Present, and Future

The concept of time has been the subject and review of philosophers and scientists since man could communicate with each other. Very few understand it but all are consumed by it. The thought of time, the passage and misuse, is so ingrained into our thinking that the brief lapses in conscience that provide an escape from it are so valuable to us we pay top dollar for it. So, in this blog I will reveal the secret of time itself. Take a minute (five minutes for those of you who are really slow) and ponder the complexity of time and boundaries we lie within in its grasp. Try to go one day without looking at a clock or other form of timepiece and allow the seconds to unravel without your participation. As an adult, under its constraints, it's virtually impossible. Time is the master of most and the refuge of all. It is a concept so familiar yet so strange and deceptive. Many do not feel they have enough and others wish it would unwind at a faster rate. So what is this thing called time? Is it a dimension by which the universe, and all that is in existence, is defined by? Is it merely a concept of the human reality that is not real at all but rather a biological necessity that is part of our sanity? Did Styx really have "Too much time on their hands"? Is time really the biggest enemy or greatest friend we have? The idea of time in a structured form is different than time in our structure. The basic explanation of time can go something like this - Time is a measurement in the parameters based upon man's position within the world he lives in. So, based upon man's measurement which is controlled by the alignment of matter within the universe such as the rotation of the moon around the earth, the earth orbiting the sun, and the sun's travel within it's defined field of travel, time itself can only be as stable as the world it exists within. So, much as the world is in decay, time itself is within a ratio based upon that decay or decomposition. For instance, a bouncing ball, unleashed from a starting point will continue bouncing down a given path limited by it's potential energy and will continue but will slow down. A car will start, accelerate, and move forward but is dependent upon the capacity of fuel required to power its engine, and it's ability to remain on a stable course of motion forward. A runner will take his/her initial step but that person's travel is dependent upon the shoes they wear, fatigue, energy stored within their bodies and a healthy burning of calories to enable the muscles and organs to function at an allowable depletion of that energy. Time is under similar constraints but in more diverse complexity. Time, if it has a beginning, must be under the same universal stipulations of all things in a created universe. Even if a theory of a big bang construction of the universe were true, time would have a beginning and thus unravel with the expansion such as the boundaries of the universe have been doing. The perception of time as a constant measurement can only hold in a perfect state if time itself was a force or element outside of a expanding or contracting capsule such as the universe. Under the very law of physics and nature, time would see the same effects felt by the universe if its creation had a beginning. So, under Rueuhy's theory of time unravel, time in a structured form, would have the appearance similar to an old LP album on a record player with the needle being the symbol of the present. The past would be at the greater diameter of the record and the future would be the center of the album. As time was started (someone has to plug the record player in and hit the button don't they) the needle commenced a journey on the outer ring of the record. As time decays, such as the universe is in, the needle moves along the grooves and plays a song that we all hear. As that needle travels it revolves a little quicker as it makes it's journey to the center and it's demise. As we hear the music play, and experience a familiar movement along with the needle, our reality is based upon what our sensory input tells us is happening. We have a sense of time unraveling but relative to us it feels like a constant. If we take ourselves out of the picture, and the bigger picture can be seen from afar, we realize that we are limited to the needle but do not position ourselves at a set point on the record. If that were possible our existence would be in direct violation of the laws of physics and consciousness itself. We feel time drag on based upon life's influences upon us at the given moment and we can also feel time unravel at a faster pace if life's influences push us into a different direction. The only way we could prove this theory on time unraveling would require the observer to step outside of the realm of time and take a measurement from the outside and also take a measurement from a different point of time and do a comparison. Because time is an un-physical element we have no possibility of a true measurement of time but can only incorporate the measurement through our own experience and structure around us. The sun goes up and goes down. The sun travels through the universe. The earth travels around the sun. If time is marked and recorded through these parameters then we do not have a true fix on the movement of time and only a human measurement of it. We base time on our perception and not it's true decomposition. This can be the only explanation for a fixed calender, length of a second, and our feeling that time seems to go by quicker every year we live. Time is literally running out and we feel rushed to catch up to it. There is no way to stop it's unraveling and it's a force that is defined within the universe/creation as we can only perceive it. Deja Vu is another concept but there's a lot of stripping involved with that so we'll save that for another day. Which will come sooner than the last one. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Freedom and terror

The following is an account of an episode that occurred in a pasture located near the house I grew up in. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. While helping my grandpa, who's name also happens to be the same as my name, except he actually had a different first name but went by his middle name which is my first name, I got the urge to drive my grandpa's truck. Now, I was five years old and really didn't have much driving experience but he was grandpa so they are pretty open to everything the grandchildren ask for. So, very innocently, I asked him if I could drive his truck. "Sure little buddy." That was him joking around with me but I was being serious. So I asked him if he was fully insured and who his agent was and he just told me that he didn't need any insurance in the pasture. Funny how some things come back to bite us in the butt but I digress ... Anyway, he had parked the truck on a hillside and left the keys in the ignition. It was the early 70's and in a pasture and the biggest threat back then was Tommy McGrady but that's a whole other story. So, there I was, with my grandpa's permission, and a 1970 Ford F150 pickup. Not really sure if the year was 1970 but it was pretty close. And the keys were just dangling. And I did have his permission (please note the previous reply from my grandpa when I asked if I could drive his truck was an approving "Sure little buddy"). So, while he was busy with the cows I walked up to that old white beast (the truck not Tommy McGrady) and tore open the driver's side door. Now, being five and only two feet tall did not dissuade me from driving. In fact, I didn't think much through at that moment. All I remember was Grandpa said Yes!! So I crawled up that big step and crawled up onto the seat. There I was. A driver. Now, I was pretty sharp for a five year old but had never received a driving lesson before. No one explained to me proper braking or use of the accelerator pedal. But I did know this - if you turned the key to the right it would start. So far so good. I turned the key. The engine started and there was a grinding noise accompanying it. So I let go of the key. Now I was pretty focused so I didn't see my grandpa waving his arms wildly about but as an adult I can make that guess. Nor did I hear him shouting crazily at me. But once again, as an adult, I can probably guess that as well. Now, as an inexperienced driver I wasn't really aware of mirror position or proper seat alignment or anything like that. I was five and my feet didn't even touch the pedals yet. But, I could stand in front of the steering wheel and I could pull that lever down. I didn't really understand a gear shifter or the politics of drive and reverse but I did know from watching my dad and grandpa that if you wanted to drive that lever had to be pulled. Unbeknownst to me, my grandpa had already started running up the hill to stop me which I really would have enjoyed as an adult now if I could travel back in time and watch this unfold. So, the truck was now in drive. The other unknown factor I left out was the angle and slope of the hill the truck was parked on. It was facing downhill and there was a little bit of a slope to the hill. In fact, there was enough of a slope that it was unnecessary to even step on the accelerator. As I said before, I had never taken a single driving lesson and already the truck was in drive and I was driving!!! How exciting. I could barely see out the windshield but I did hear the banging on the side of the door. My grandpa, in his late 40's or early 50's, (it was the 70's so who can honestly remember?) was running alongside of the truck as it was starting to build up speed. I believe the only thing that saved us was me pulling the steering wheel and the truck started going back up the hill. I was not able to step on the accelerator but grandpa was able to finally open the door and stop the truck. The barn at the bottom of the hill would have stopped us and I do believe that would have made for an even more interesting story but the facts are what they are. I don't remember much after that. I don't remember Grandpa yelling and screaming at me or being dragged through the pasture back to my house. I don't remember if Tommy McGrady ever showed up. But I do remember that first moment of being behind the wheel and the feeling of being able to go anywhere. It has stayed with me to this very day. Also, that look of terror on my grandpa's face as he was running alongside the truck and pounding on the driver's side door. That look has always stayed with me. So, from my earliest memories come freedom and terror. I guess they had their grip on me all the way back to when I was five and they've never let go. Which is good in some ways. But now, when the moment is right, and some unsuspecting elderly gentlemen is walking on the sidewalk I'll yell "Catch me if you can" and drive off. There's still that look of terror but it will never match that look from so many years ago. And the freedom has lost its glimmer as well. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Do it for the children

One of the most effective tools in the arsenal of advertisers (and I must include charitable organizations) is guilt. How often does it play a role in our lives? Well, if you don't know the answer you're failing at being a compassionate and understanding human being. And this is basically how guilt works in the commercial world. The commercial world is basically the world filled with commercials. Even drive-through's and convenience stores play at our heart strings. Have you ever got the munchies cravings around mid-morning and decided to stop at your local gas/convenience store? You walk in and there's a shamrock shaped paper lining the wall near the cash register with the latest test of conscience. If you cared you would purchase this shamrock piece of paper because we'll put your name on it so society will know you're not a low life who can't afford to pay a dollar to show your allegiance with the latest non-profit organization our corporate executives have decided would look good to promote. Or the big glass jar with the 3" x 4" paper taped to the side for the next surgical procedure a customer or friend will undergo that you almost push off the counter as you're just trying to pay for your soda? This is where it gets interesting. When asked about the person whose face is plastered on the jar the attendant will inform you in one of two ways - they don't personally know the person but heard they're a good cause or the person is their best friend or sister or uncle who raised them after a tragic auto accident killed their parents. They will have an answer and it will make you feel guilty if you leave without dropping your change in the jar. It has become very common practice at McDonalds to ask for a donation for something every time you go through the drive-thru. In fact, your order is not complete until you've been asked if you would like to donate a small, one time only donation, of one dollar to the Ronald McDonald playhouse or some other organization that McDonalds is affiliated with. And that's not all. At the pay window you will see that a permanent structure has been built into the wall to catch your change if you happen to drop it in the correct moment. And let's not forget mother's day and valentine's day or the other commercial holidays that have been invented to make us feel like we're pathetic wretches if you we forget or do not purchase the "just right" gift and card that is required after living past you're tenth birthday. What kind of human being forgets or doesn't buy the right gift? How could you be so unkind and uncaring to not spend hours and money looking for the perfect gift. And then the reaction when your mother knows that "yes, my Johnny does love me and he went all the way with a Hallmark brand card". Or how many men have faced the wrath of a forgotten anniversary or birthday or valentine's day all together? The scenario goes like this - Johnny, or we'll go with John, has a deadline at work and goes in early to try to finish by the deadline set forth by his boss (who happens to have a mother). John skips lunch and works extra late because the boss (who loves his mother more than John loves his mother because the flowers that John's boss purchased were $20 more than John paid) has made it perfectly clear John will lose his job (which means losing his house and car and groceries and whatever else John uses his paycheck for) if he does not complete the assignment. John leaves work that night triumphant in the knowledge that his family will remain secure and the bills will be paid. John drives home (dinner will be cold or non-existent but that's okay, he still has a job in the morning) with a feeling of oneness with the universe because he's accomplished the impossible and his boss won't yell at him in the morning. Of course his boss will just say "Looks like you finished that assignment. Thanks." and that's all John really needs. But when John opens that door and sees the special pizza his wife had delivered and the cheese has gotten cold John suddenly loses his grip on oneness with the universe and realizes something is wrong. John asks his wife what's wrong and then comes the response every husband dreads. The words spoken hundreds of time but rips out the heart just as often. "HOW COULD YOU?" John immediately goes through the thought process of what has been done in the last week that he wasn't careful enough to cover up or clean up. What could he have done? Did he forget to pay a bill or did an old girlfriend from 20 years ago, who just divorced her husband and now is trying to reconnect with Johnny, call the house that day? What did John do? Then John starts to realize all the hints he'd been missing that his wife had been throwing so evidently at him for the past week. "Isn't that a beautiful blouse? she said the last time the two went shopping? Or how about the conversation she started during the episode of the show John had waited a week to watch and regardless of whether the commercial was on she was gonna find out if John remembered that little restaurant they found on their honeymoon? Of the calender with a date circled but nothing filled in? How could John forget? The anniversary. How many clues must a woman leave for her man to remember a date from twenty years ago that had no correlation with any of the other 364 days that year or any year but is supposed to be the most important day in the history of mankind? What was John's wife supposed to do? Tell him bluntly "John, our anniversary is in two days and if you take me out to dinner that night and buy that blouse that I pointed out and said "I want that blouse and it would make me happy if you purchased it for me"???? How could John not see the clues and follow the complex strategic game of chance his wife so carefully plotted out for him? No wonder John works so hard. If he cared about his wife at all that date would have been his focus for the past 365 days because it only happens once a year. What an uncaring and unloving man John is!!! So, as with John, our lives are filled with reminders everyday and every chance possible about how much we disappoint and let down our fellow man in this slow, self-centered world we live in. Didn't answer that text message within a minute? Well you must not care. Didn't stop at the light and blazenly drove through and cut off a more centered, caring driver because you're 5 minutes late to your son's graduation? You just really don't care do you? And the signs and clues are obvious to everyone, aren't they? So next time you want fries with that Big Mac you better have an extra dollar because that Fortune 500 company that you're buying those fries from will have their minimum wage worker ask you if you love your fellow man just as much as the driver in the car ahead of you. Try to care a little bit more if you're just trying to get a quick bite to eat because you spent your lunch hour getting a card for your secretary on Secretary's day. And then realize you're a cow because it's uncaring to belittle your secretary calling her a secretary when really she's an administrative assistant. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Google + is not for me (Or "Why I don't believe in Iron Man")

There are a few of you that secretly put on your Iron Man costumes this weekend and went to the opening weekend of Iron Man 3 - the latest installment of the Marvel Comics franchise that has no connection whatsoever with Pixar. This is why Toy Story 4 - Woody's Revenge trailer did not even premiere. Because honestly, who needs to see a toy come to life when we can watch a full size adult in a costume become a sonic boom master. I did not see this latest installment of the Tony Stark trilogy for several reasons. I washed my hair Thursday night and once it gets wet it takes forever for it to dry. Friday night my car wouldn't start and I dropped my cell phone in the toilet so calling a cab and watching a movie were the least of my concerns. Saturday I was napping all day. I spent the previous night in a frantic search for an all-night AT&T store to replace my phone but there doesn't seem to be one in a thousand mile radius of my house. And I was attempting this on foot because my car wouldn't start. So Saturday I was pretty exhausted. Saturday night my phone finally dried out in the box of rice I had it sitting in but now there seems to be a lack of reception when I make a call. Also, someone stole my car which is a real inconvenience for me and now I have to walk on foot to the AT&T store to find out why I'm getting no reception on my phone. Sunday morning, after walking a 1/2 hour to get to the movie theater I discovered that they don't start movies until after 4pm on the last Sunday of odd numbered months. I still don't understand this policy buy who am I to question the genius of the entertainment field. After walking back to the spot where I last saw my car I discovered I was on the wrong street and my car was actually parked one block over. Suddenly I was really in no mood to watch Iron Man 3 or even go to AT&T. Also, I left my lights on and my battery was dead. This is why I really hate batteries and extension cords. If your battery goes dead and you put the charger on it seems likely you will always need an extension cord. Now extension cords, in and of themselves, are not evil by nature. But I do have a theory they were created by Satan or one of his evil dominion and have caused untold spiritual corruption since the first time someone attempted to untangle one. It's just a theory but I do feel a sense of dread and evil every time I use one. And I really don't appreciate the profanity I hear coming from myself when I'm trying to untangle them. But I digress... Sunday afternoon was spent at home watching the original Iron Man and really starting to wish I had skipped washing my hair Thursday. So I dozed off and I awoke to the sound of a small explosion down the street. This did not play well with my subconscious so soon after watching Iron man. I looked out my front door and the neighborhood was surrounding my car. I hate positive and negative terminals on batteries and the effects of misconnecting the cables from a charger. Now I really wish it had been stolen. So, the movie was out for me Sunday as well. What really startled me was the comments I started seeing from strangers on my Google + app on my phone. Perfectly unknown strangers were commenting on my misfortune about how stupid I was with comments such as "Two negatives don't add up to one positive unless your positively sure about hooking up your charger cables wrong on your car battery" and things like "Hey, two battery cables go in a bar but are hooked up wrong and their dates get pregnant and explode" or this was my favorite "why did the car battery cross the road? To get away from a wrong connection so it won't blow up." I'm not saying they were unoriginal or unfunny but really? Really? That's what Google + is for? So I'm done with extension cords and Google +. Who needs the aggravation when you're walking to work. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

No one likes a loser but you're the exception

In the early 40's, 20th century, a.d., (after the scary Baltic uprising in the lower east peninsula of Pugnet Sound), a new education system was found based on winners versus whiners. It was decided that only winners would be allowed to eat and drive nice cars and collect antiques and such. This program proved effective with minor violence and the occasionally academic scholarship being awarded for "Trying the hardest". "Trying the hardest" title, in many circles, is still recognized today in the "almost" winner category. So the education community recognized that America could only stay strong and robust if the winners who had been vetted through trial and error were in charge of society. Afterall, unless some kind of award is in order for just showing up everyday and trying your best, true winners have proven themselves up to the many tasks facing those in charge. The system was fool-proof with the exception of those who were truly gifted in cheating and the invention of the Dungeons and Dragons board game. Also, LSD and soda pop are now known contributors to the failure of the old system and beer probably didn't help much either. So, the winner versus whiners system was in effect until the early 70's, 20th century, a.d., (after the scary Bolshevic revolution in the upper east side started by George and Weezy Jefferson - a successful dry cleaner known for his bad back and wise-cracking antics). It was there, in a dilapidated one room school house that Thomas Stevens Golshing Sr., father of Thomas Stevens Golshing Jr. who was the roommate of Gary Busey (who missed the auditions for The Buddy Holly Story 4 and is still kicking himself for that lost opportunity), discovered the theory of relative daycare. This new theory lead to the instrumental Dept. of Education ruling in the late 80's, 20th century, a.d., (following the drug induced fog of the 70's which came about from the whole dungeons and dragons war famously played in the garage of Steve Jobs which lead to the invention of the Iscream - a portable device carried by ladies in their walks home from school that would alert them to Dungeon and Dragon players). The Theory of Relative Daycare stated the following hypnosis - the fundamental dynamics of relative daycare is based upon grandparents who are tired of raising their children's offspring and ensures affordable daycare during school hours based upon the future non-wage earning ability of the toddler versus the valued earnings of an actual hardworking student still suffering from the wayward consensus of past success from working hard to achieve goals. Thus, a base scale was born which showed the elevated success story of a daycare student in the child's teen years and offered a falling scale of enthusiasm based upon the tears and sweat of hard working students. A new education system was born. In this new system a child's performance would not hinder his/her ability for receiving funds for food and shelter. The government, under this new program, would advance programs through taxes that would allow silicone valley based gaming companies to expand their success through marketing to the less-abled children. The correlation seen through the profits from these companies and the spending this would produce, enabled the government to calculate increased revenue for the next 40 years. The only variable the government did not see was the havoc this would bring upon the global economic structure and the damage to world markets where countries such as china and japan were still dependent upon the successful education systems in place in their own countries following the structure of "winners versus whiners" formula based upon the old U.S. education system. The federal government has discovered, through government funded studies, that the only way the current system can continue to work is through increased revenue paid to the government so that continued funding can be made available to the system. The studies found that increased funding has a feel-good effect and raises the moral of the workers within the education system thus improving the moral of the daycare teens. If the funding is not provided through pensions and administrative cost-of-living increases, they're gonna feel bad. And if the system is working why would we want to challenge that? My name is Rueuhy and i approve this blog.