My Dirty Fantasies

So I am always curious about what brings people to my blog. It's a most curious thing. I obviously get a bunch of hits when I first post a blog. Mostly from my friends who follow my facebook and twitter. (And the 3 people that follow me on Google+.) I can also see stats on when, where, and what search brought them to my blog. The searches interest me the most, because it gives me a good idea about what interests people enough to have them click on some strangers musings.

This picture is unrelated, but probably will increase
my blog hits by about 7 times.

So what are the most searched for things you ask? Well, you probably aren't asking this, but I'm going to tell you anyway. "Record Player" and "Surfing Unicorn" are number one and number two respectively. Both are from my blog "More Controversial Stuff From My Brain". The third is "Joel Higgins" ("Legend of Immortal Joel Higgins") and fourth is "Atheist vs. Christian" ("Atheists and Other Beliefs") Which by the way are my number two and one viewed blog both getting about 1.5 hits a day. My first ever blog (Blogging) has only 45 hits, and I don't expect it to ever get any more. It is kind of lame with no awesome pictures like the one shown here. Also, on an unrelated note. I do have one search of "skydiving loser" which brought someone to my page. Never have I brought up skydiving in all my ramblings although I probably have mentioned the word loser. I don't understand Google searches sometimes.

Check out my Movember pictures
if you really want to see a narcissist.

The other thing that I have found to the people I have talked to about my blog is that they are most likely to read my blog if it has an interesting title. I am sure this is why "Obamacare Isn't That Bad" despite being one of my personally funnier blogs and why "Language May be Offensive to Some" got 100 hits in a day. This may be why you clicked on this link, because My Dirty Fantasies sounds kind of sexy, and why you are probably disappointed that I've so far only done a lot of self promoting links.

What can I say, I'm a little narcissistic. The truth of the matter is this, this August for some reason I can't fathom, my blog has gotten over 100 hits more than any other month, despite only having one post. So since I have my personal best, I figure I might as well shoot the moon, and try and post something that should get a bunch of hits because it's sexy, fun, and mostly has a great picture of boobs on it. And lets face it who doesn't love boobs. Boobs boobs boobs! The more times I say it, the more likely it is to come up in your search engine. Hmmm... I wonder if there are any other websites that relate to boobs. I doubt it. The Internet is sooooo prudish!

Okay, well enough of the shameless self promotion. You came to hear my fantasies, and as promised you will hear them. (At least the few of you who actually read this far with out getting sick of the above prattling...

Nothing says sexy like Houndini's magic tricks...

I hate to say it, but my fantasies aren't exactly "50 Shades of Gray". In fact I've never read it, nor do I have the desire to. I understand the basic premise, and while I am sure this craze of "Mommy Porn" may be a band wagon worth hopping on, I probably won't be anytime soon. What does interest my more is the psychology of the dominant/submissive relationship mentioned in the book (at least I am told), and what draws people into these roles. Do people actually want be beaten and humiliated for fun? Do they hate their lives that much, or have so much guilt over past events that the only way they can feel better is to be on the receiving end of a restrained beating? Do others find the only way to feed their ego is to be punisher? Do they feel so powerless in their public life, that the only way to even things out is to reverse that role?

I'm sure there is way more to it than that, but my fantasy is less about experiencing that, but more about understanding it. In fact about understanding everything that people do. A colleague of mine last week admitted to me in a casual conversation that he had a copy of "Mein Kempf". Realizing what he had implied seconds later, he immediately tried to justify why he had a copy. He explained it was because he wanted to see what a mad man had been thinking and that all dictators should be scrutinized. He needed not justify himself, as I completely understand that feeling.

STEAMROLLER!!!!

If I had to make the proverbial genie wish, I think that I would wish to know and understand everything. Everything from the minds of the evil, religion, science, and the most mind boggling of all, women. Having thought about this, I do understand that if I were to have this wish come true that I would probably be confined to a mental institution shortly thereafter, as to know the absolute truth, and then try to survive in a world laden with lies would do nothing short of drive someone crazy. Still to know everything without doubt, without hesitation, without any sort of candy coating would truly be my number one fantasy.

The writers fantasy has me looking disheveled, and smoking a pipe.

The other major fantasy I have is to get paid for writing. This blog is a lot of fun and all, but it would be sweet to make money for it. I'm not about to give up a good career and put my family at risk or anything on the whim of a pipe dream, but I really do enjoy writing, so if I could get paid a wage that I could survive on, that would be my on my fantasy list.  In fact, I think all you freeloaders should stop reading my blog for free, and start sending me quarters.  (Email me at mattclaus74@gmail.com if you'd like to send me a quarter.)  Other fantasy careers include, baseball player that hits only home runs, hockey goalie who break dances whilst saving every puck, professional vacation go-er on-er, Joel Higgins' personal assistant, and guy that gets paid to surf YouTube.  If anyone wants to offer me any of the above jobs, please email the above.

My final fantasy is to have this picture stolen and made into a best selling t-shirt...

Number 1 image on Google for Surfing Unicorn!!!

That's right, I created it, and people keep searching for it.  I don't have nearly the ambition to do anything with this.  Sure I stole the image of the wave and the unicorn, but I put it together and added rainbows.  I would absolutely and positively stoked if someone put this on a t-shirt, and sold it.  I don't need credit, I don't need money.  All I need to know is that someone loved it enough to do it, and someone else thought it was good enough to buy.  I tell you what, if anyone wants it, send me an email, and I'll make it at cost.

Oh yeah, one more wish for a fantasy....

BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!  BOOBS!

Be careful what you wish for....

Generation X - Still whining after all these years.

Some things stick in my mind and I'm not sure why.  One thing I loved as a kid was Mad Magazine.  I don't even know if Mad Magazine exists anymore, although I'm sure that it's on the web somewhere.



Smells like Nostalgia

It really was quite a brilliant magazine, and I enjoyed everything about it.  I would digest every article.  Even though today's generation doesn't really ever need to know what a magazine is, I'd recommend checking it out.  One particular joke I recall was " "It's scary to think that tomorrow's teenagers will have to come up with music loud and distasteful enough to offend parents who grew up loving the Beastie Boys." I still remember all that joke after years, because it always made me think what would offend my generation.  The truth is the Beastie Boys were certainly not the most offencive band my generation produced, although they did encourage me to fight for my right to party.  Still that's pretty standard.  Twisted Sister also told me I didn't have to take it, Motley Crue told me I had to smoke in the boys room and Weird Al told a generation to Eat It.


What really stuck out though to me was that Baby Boomer writer was really out of touch thinking that my music was loud and distasteful.  I'm sure that he listened to some crap like the Rolling Stones, Beatles, or perhaps Mozart, you know, those OLD people.  I listened to Megadeth, RUN DMC, and Right Said Fred.



Brilliant Lyrics and totally
heterosexual music. 
(Not that there's anything
wrong with that.)

But his generation always had bad things to say about us X'ers.  We were lazy, unmotivated, didn't want McJobs, and we were a bunch of whiners. 

The Baby Boomers have all the good jobs.  We'll have to take care of the ageing population when they retire.  Your killing the environment and the O-Zone.  You old fogies are selfish and you don't understand our generation man!  We're not lazy, we just have nothing to motivate us. 



My point is we came off as a bunch of lazy self-entitled whiners, misunderstood by the old fogies, refusing to grow up and take responsibilities, and thinking that plaid shirts and Doc Martens were awesome. 





Spoiler Alert:  They totally are!

I think in retrospect we had some pretty good points though.  The Baby Boomers really were a pretty hefty generation that learnt that birth control meant a higher standard of living.  Less kids meant less had to be spent on kids.  A generation that started out protesting Vietnam police actions and living for peace love and dope, ended up being the corporate climbers and being the selfish generation, living for 'me'.  Yuppies was an evil word, and that's what they were.  (Not you mom and dad, you did great.)  ;)

Over all we felt forgotten, we felt lost, we felt like we had no direction.  We yelled loudly and no one payed attention.  One thing though...  We would NEVER grow up to be our parents.  We'd show our kids how be awesome, and give them the respect we never got.

Fast Forward 20 years...

We're all winners here!

Kids today don't know how good they got it!  Talk about a selfish generation!  For some reason they all expect to succeed without trying.  They are willing to knuckle down and work for a living.  They do nothing but play video games and text on their phones.  They don't listen to reason.  For some fool reason they think that everyone deserves a trophy even if they come in last place!  We raised a generation of wimps, and how on earth do we expect them to take over our hard-earned middle management jobs when these snot nosed kids can't won't even flip a burger.  I'm sorry, but updating your 'Myspacebook twitter' account and typing with your thumbs doesn't count as a skill.

 

And while we are on the subject, learn to spell and use grammar.  Acronyms are not even on the radar in real English.  If you have to type things out, learn how to properly articulate yourself using real words! 



God Damn Right!



Back in my day we played outside, got in trouble, didn't wear helmets, climbed trees, ate mud, skinned our knees, and got minor concussions, and we liked it that way.  We survived.  We are still here.  Today's kids are so mamby pamby, I swear bubble wrap is going to be the next fashion trend.  (In fairness though, to all who make this argument...  Those who didn't survive those childhood adventures aren't here to give the other side of the story.)  When I was a kid I walked to school by myself or with a friend at the age of 6.  It was probably 500 meters away.  Can you imagine that happening today?  The parents would be arrested.

In retrospect, I'm pretty sure the greatest generation whined about the Boomers, the Boomers whined about the X'ers, and we whine about the...  Well, what the hell do you even call them?  Gen Y?  Milliniumers? FaceBook generation?  Pick a name already!  Or do we have to do that for you too!

Talking 'bout my g-g-g-generation

I did figure out one thing for sure.  What kind of music will tomorrow's teenagers have to come up with music loud and distasteful enough to offend parents who grew up loving the Beastie Boys?

You win this one Millennium generation.
You win this one.





Obamacare isn't that bad.

Hey all,

I just wanted to send a quick note to all my American friends now that the Supreme courst approved Obamacare to let them know it's really not THAT bad.

Known for founding the UN, Universal Health Care,
and holding pencils like cigarettes.

Despite the influx of tweets threatening to move to Canada (http://www.buzzfeed.com/daves4/people-moving-to-canada-because-of-obamacare), you should know that we have socialized medicine in Canada for a few years.   In the 60's our beloved Prime Minister Lester B. Pearson introduced it to us Canadians as a way to offer everyone, even those crazy Newfoundlanders a way to afford needed health care. Although 'Pearsoncare' was hotly debated, his minority governement was able to push it through, despite only having 43% of the popular vote.  As this was 1966, it was largely one of the contributing factors to the beginning of the "Hippie Movement", and perhaps one of the main reasons that now medical marijauna is now legal in Canada.  (Ed. - Citation Needed).

Anyhow, now that we've had it for a few years, I figured I could give my pals south of the border a little real insite into what Governement Health Care really means to Canadians, and not what you hear on your polarized news networks who pretty much tell you it's the work of the Devil, or a gift from a non-deity based miracle.

Drink beer and set off fireworks, or I'll send the armada!

First thing you should know is we are not a Democracy like you, we are a federal constitutionally monarchy which means we still have to worship the Queen.  This is done every May on Victoria Day weekend, marked be copious amounts of beer and explosives, which may be one of the main reasons we all need so much health care to begin with.  This means of course that our head of state, the queen, as represented by our governal general, can dictate who gets what health care based on a decision made on cases which must be brought to her on an individual basis.  All cases must be made in person without legal represntation.  If the health care needs are related to a voice related injury, (E.G.  Screaming too much at the local hockey team to 'Get off your asses and skate, eh!'), an official crown voice may be appointed for represntation.

But don't get me wrong, it's not that bad.  I'd say at least 75% of all applications are approved, and the other 25% are generally only denied because it's almost tea time, so they are just trying to rush through.  You can apply again in 6 months, or as little as 3 if you lose a limb directly due to the denial.

State of the art transportation and medical care facility.

After you get your application approved, you are put into a first class ambulance and brought directly to your local health care facility.  The triage nurse will look at you within 6 hours of your arrival, and generally tell you to put some ice on it.  Seeing as in Canada we have plenty of ice at all times, we find that this actually negates many of the more expensive health care costs.  As well it can be accomplished anytime by going outside an rolling around naked, which is something we Canucks enjoy doing regardless.

If indeed this doesn't resolve your medical emergency, you are given a medical grade Molson Canadian, to take off the pain, and given a cot, and 3 warm blankets.  You are then slid into a room with a TV to watch a hockey game or if that's not your taste to listen to Nickleback, Anne Murray, and the Tragically Hip.

The doctor, (his name is Maurice), generally gets to see you in about 7 hours and then fixes you, pats you on the head, gives you a governement approved lollipop and a perscription (in french and english) for medical marjiauna and a case of Molsons and sends you on your way.  Obviously, you wife is waiting for you, and you have to get back to your lumberjacking duties.

Now I kow what you're saying...  'Matt, that's all fine and dandy, but all those high tech medical procedures must cost a fortune, and there is no way my Blue Cross will ever approve that, even if the government pays for it.' 

Ed, our extremely friendly tax collector.

Well, not to worry friends!!!  It's all FREE!!!  The perscriptions, the dog sled, the ice doesn't cost you a thing.  Well, that's not entirely true, we do have to pay our taxes.  However, at a reasonable 95% of our salary, that's nothing!  Consider all the benefits we get for it.  Socialized health care, paved roads, education, subsidized curling matches, welfare, our arts and music council, Maurice and Ed's paycheck, an annual tribute of 5000 beaver and baby seal fur coats for her mejesty, and if there's a little left over the Prime Minister has a poutine party at his place, and EVERYONE is invited!  Well, not the natives, they don't HAVE to pay tax.

All in all, it's a win/win for everyone, and those evil insurance companies don't make a penny.  And really we're not 'Pinko Communists'.  We get to own land and start businesses, we can work as hard as you want and make as much money as you want. The great thing is in the north, the sun doesn't go down in the summer, and doesn't come up in the winter, so you work 6 months straight, with 15 minute breaks, and then you get to sleep for 6 months.  That's a lot of cash let me tell you!

Anyhow, you can see it's not really that bad.  What's more it works.  Our average life expectancy is 80.7, yours is 78.7.  Our infant mortality rate is 4.6% yours is 6.4%.  Our football teams are so healthy they only need 3 downs to make it 9.144 metres, yours needs 4 downs to make it 10 yards.  As you can see by these World Health Orginization standard measurements, you need to step your game a little bit to get on the ball.  I think Obamacare may give you that edge.  It's going to be okay, I promise you.  Your little brother in the north is doing just fine with it, and it is not because we only have 400 residents here, it's because the system works.  Now you'll pardon me, I have to go take my government sponsored meds, grab some potato chips, and go watch Cheech and Chong.  Now that's a great Canadian!

If he had a medical grade Molson's, he'd be fine.

Language may be offensive to some...

OK, so before we start today, I need to warn you, my language may not be completely clean and G-rated today.  I may say some words that you might not like.  Heck, I may even go so far as to offend you with symbolic pixels which will cross your eyes.  Shucks, it may even strike a nerve and cause you to blush, become enraged, and write a letter to the editor insisting that I be taken off the air, and my sponsorships be cancelled. 

If this sounds like something you don't want to read, please stop reading now.  If you keep reading, I take no responsibility for what you may happen to read next.  You have been warned.

(OK really?  How am I not supposed to take responsibility, I mean I wrote it.  I take full responsibility.  This is mine, and I own it.  Your offence is your own, but these words are mine, excluding any quotes you read.)

You've been warned...

When I was a young lad of about 7 or around there.  I was in my Sunday school office with my sister and mother watching her count the offering.  My family was always active in the church, and it was my mom's job to do the accounting of the Sunday school offering, and watching her do it gave us something to do between Sunday school and the service. I don't remember the details of what happened next, but needless to say my big sister did something to me which caused me some level of distress.  (I was a brat, I probably deserved it.)  What ever it was she did, I could not let this offence pass without standing up for myself, but what I could I do?  I was in church, my mother was there, and I was surrounded people who I'm sure would disapprove of the violence which I'm sure she deserved.  She was also 4 years older than I, and tall.  My butt would have been well kicked I'm sure.)  I decided the best course of action would be to express my dissatisfaction in words.  Strong words.  Words that would hurt her, break her, and ultimately show her the error of her ways and bring her to apologise to me for whatever great wrong it was she had committed.  Once again, with my mother there I couldn't drop a huge bomb, so I decided to ultimately censor myself, and with great and conscientious thought I told her to 'F' off.

That's right...  Right there in the Sunday school office on the holiest day of the week, I said the letter 'F'.

The effect was not quite what I desired.  My mother shot me a look of all looks, packed up the money, grabbed me and pulled me out of the office like only a mother can.  Her peers I'm sure were there, which added to her embarrassment and fuelled the addressing I got there-after.  I was delivered to my father for punishment.  My father looked at me with disappointed eyes and told me we were going to have a little chat when I got home. 

Through teary eyes, I explained that I had made a conscious decision not to swear, and chose the letter 'F' to specifically not swear.  It was explained to me that even though I had only used the letter 'F' the meaning behind the word was quite clear, and that it should be considered just as bad as if I had actually said the word.  (Next time you hear anyone say the phrase 'The 'N' Word', remember that.)  Now although this was the 70's or maybe early 80's and corporal punishment for kids was still quite accepted, I did not get a spanking for this one.  My Dad had a way of sitting you down and calmly explaining why what you did was wrong, and why you needed to be punished in a calm and rational way.  I never really listened, I just kept dreading the spanking that was to be coming.  Fear is not responsive to rationality.  Anyhow, in this case no spanking was issued.  I'm sure all you children of the 80's know what standard punishment for bad language is.

Suck on this!

That lesson always stuck with me for some reason.  I guess my parents did a pretty good job after all.

Now a division of the
language police.

Anyhow, I'm not sure if you are aware of this, but recently a small town called Middleborough passed the following:  A $20 fine on public profanity.  Yes that's right, in Middleborough it is now against a town by-law to swear in public.  (Do you call them by-laws in the States, I don't even really know.)

My Dad once told me that swearing is lazy, and there are always considerably better words in the lexicon to establish a feeling of emphases, which is when swearing is most commonly used.  The other common use is shock value, which once again is kind of lazy.  I mean if I wanted to shock you, I'm more likely to tell you what I think about environmental laws than I am to swear.  Besides, it offends way more people.  Regardless, the good people of Middleborough are no longer even allowed to be lazy.  In fact, the bad people in Middleborough aren't either.

Mr. Rogers HATES ambiguous laws

I'm pretty sure that somewhere in there this is against the American Constitution.  You guys down there take your freedom of speech pretty close to heart.  Us Canucks have mostly the same law, but it is limited to denial of hate speech, which I have a bit of a problem with.  I mean I can say words which are considered hateful, but if it can be proven that I said it with the intention to be hateful or something like that I can be charged?  I don't know, it is a weird law.  I try not to say anything that might be misconstrued as hateful, but I certainly use words which offend.  You figure out the difference. 

My question is this...  What is the limit of your swearing threshold.  What might be offensive to one person might be perfectly acceptable for another.  Did they have to write all the offensive words down on some charter?  If not, then it's left to interpretation of what is offensive.  If so, does that mean every time someone reads the law aloud, they have to be fined for each offensive word?  What about words that kind of sound like swearing? 

"The bastard took his bitch, a shih tzu, to chase the cock and some balls around the park, but ended up in some pussy willows being carried by an ass." 

Perfectly acceptable and clean sentence in the English language, but might cost the speaker $140! 

Uh-ho-ho-ho, I am dirty, no?

An speaking of the English language...  What if our friends in 'La Belle Province' visit the small town of Middleborough.  Perhaps they see a small carving of a seal for sale in the downtown area, and delightedly exclaim... "C'est la phoque!"  For those of you who don't speak the language, sound it out, and pronounce it a dirty as you can!  There, now you've said it correctly, and you may owe your town $20.

The real problem as I see it is not that the citizens of Middleborough don't want people swearing, heck I even get that.  The problem is that it is against the constitutional rights of the citizens of the United States of America, and since the fine is only $20 it is not worth ever fighting in a court of law.  It is just another tax grab against the lazy, the people with rich lexicon, and the French.  I hope they are putting the monies towards something useful at least.  I mean, you know the government.  Always models of efficiency when it comes to our tax dollars...

Simpsons, brilliant satire

The Joy of Life

I haven't admitted this to many people, but I have become a pusher.  That's right, I dispence artifical joy.  What's worse is I enjoy doing it, I have for years.  I don't really feel guily about it, I know that my pushing makes people happy.  They get addicted, they want more, they want to get that feeling again and again.  It doesn't hurt anyone, or at least it hasn't so far.  They tell me they want to go higher and higher, but I have my limits.  I always try and keep things safe.  Most of my experience pushing has been with young girls, but I don't discriminate.  I'm not sexist, it's just where the opportunities lie.  I have pushed for young boys as well, just not often.  Also, I will continue to do so as long as I can.  As long as they let me, I'll keep pushing just to hear the giggles and laughter as the rush takes over, and for a moment they feel as free as if they are flying.  I know one day Madelyn won't need me anymore to push, but for the time being it's my job, and I love it.

The seedy underbelly of the playgound

I might be wrong, but I think that's what everyone wants isn't it?  I mean, maybe not the kind of joy that I dispense at the swing set, but some sort of rush, some sort of joy, some sort of escape from the everyday mundane existence.  It's the thrill that brings us joy.  Maybe it is the rush of adrenaline from floating in the air in the playground.  Maybe the sense of self worth that washes over you when you accomplish something hard.  Maybe it's the explosion of sensation that washes over you when you try a new or favourite food.  All addictions seem to be related to a rush of joy, if only momentarily.

I personally sold my soul to the devil to learn how to do
the cube.  Just so I could impress people into thinking I'm smart.
I fooled them all!

One of the bigger joys we have in our society is stuff.  Owning bigger and better things.  Cool cars.  Big TV's.  Suckier vacuums.  Beautiful shoes.  The latest movies and video games.  Collections of almost anything you can imagine drives people forward in life.  All for stuff.  People would give anything for that rush that aquiring better stuff gives you.  Anything...  Most people dedicate their entire lives from school age to retirement working towards or a career which encompasses over 1/3 of every day of their lives, just to have money to get more stuff to bring them joy. 

You might say to me that you don't.  You might tell me that you work to provide sustainance for your family, and help them to survive, and live comfortably, and that is commendable for sure.  I know I get a sense of self satisfaction and joy knowing that my kids aren't going to starve, and that my eldest daughter can go to prom.  Irregardless of the nobility of my motives, I'm am still brought joy by doing it.  I am still giving up my life for joy.

Almost as much joy I get from pissing off the grammar nazis
by saying 'irregardless'.

Still, how much do we have to give up for joy?  Does stuff make you happy?  I hear people say no to this question.  Stuff if anything makes you unhappy.  The thrill of getting it, and initially enjoying gives you a momentary rush, but it only lasts for so long, and then it's on to the next thing.  It's the same with Madelyn and her swing.  Today she's happy to be pushed, and go higher and faster, but eventually that won't be enough.  Eventually, it'll be taller slides, and hanging upside down on monkey bars.  Merri-go-rounds.  Rollercoasters.  Skydiving.  All for the thrill of the adrenaline rush.    All to find the joy in life.  Even those that sacrifice themselves for others to get that smug satisfying feeling of knowing that they've good.  It's satisfying because although you are giving of yourself, you get joy out of it.



Cheesy nostalgic joy for Gen X

I don't begrudge anyone their joy by the way.  I feel that as long as you aren't hurting others the pursuit of your joy is paramount to your existence on the planet.  I don't want to come across as a superficial asshole telling you to give up all your worldly goods and live in peace and harmony not shackled down by society's desire to fit in by needing more things.  If base diving off of cliffs makes you happy, by all means do it.  You should be able to live your life anyway you choose as far as I'm concerned as long as the joy you derive doesn't come at the expense of someone who is not willing.  (Go ahead and drink 20 beers, smoke 5 joints, and eat a deep fried Mars bar if you want, just don't skip your daughter's play and make her cry.)

I, for one, find joy in solving puzzles, baiting grammar nazis, Ren and Stimpy, and of course pushing my daughter on the swing.  I also find joy in being with my friends, writing, playing video games, and the smug satisfaction in knowing that I'm a good dad.  I'm OK with this.  I find joy in the sun, and in nature, and I like technology, and the cool new toys.  I get a rush from making people laugh, being sarcastic, ironic, stupidly weird, and akwardly rebelious.  I really do think that if I gave up all my 'stuff' that I could find joy just in being.  I couldn't give up my family and friends however, I'm way too addicted to that joy in my life.

Another f***'n uplifting message.

The key I think is not to find your happiness in things or in others, it is to find happiness in yourself.  Whatever that thing is that turns you on.  Whatever give you that rush, it needs to be within you. 

If you are happy being miserable, than be miserable. There is joy hidden in sadness if you want it.

If you can only see the bright side of everything, relish in it.  Just don't expect everyone to see your point of view.

And, if you choose not to find your joy, that is your right as well.  No one can ever tell you what to do it you don't want to do it.  (It's just sometime the consequences suck.)

Personally, I'm going to continue being a pusher.  It just brings joy to life.



#occupy?

The symbol of the 99 percent?

Hello good readers,

Today I'd like to talk about something that's been on my mind lately, and since it's been meandering a lot lately maybe I need to bring it back into focus.

I've really been trying to wrap my head around what the Occupy movement is trying to do.  I mean I understand that they are upset, and staging a protest to let the world know it.  Apparently this is done by drum circles, wearing Guy Fawkes masks, chanting about the 99 percent and engaging in civil disobedience.

A big fan of the pope.

I take small issue with the use of the Guy Fawkes mask.  Guy was not a symbol of freedom from tyranny.  He was not a left wing rabble rouser.  He didn't want anarchy, which I perceive many who use his image believe.  Although, he tried to blow up the British Parliament buildings and remove King James I from the throne, this was not done for the 'people'.  His end goal was to restore  a Catholic Monarch to the throne. 

So his end game was to remove one repressive regime, and restore it with another one who arguably would be more of a puppet to the desires of the Catholic church.  (Who at the time had a pretty bad track record of being nice to the people.)

So when they invoke his image, they are invoking one of a person who was willing to kill to bring oppression upon the people...  But I digress.  I understand the perception of what they think he symbolises, I just find it ironic.

I digress about that, because this diatribe is not about Guy, it is about the #Occupy movement, and what it means.  So the argument goes, at least as I understand it, that 1% of the population control the majority of wealth, and consequentially power in a Capitalistic society, while the other 99% has very little.  This is deemed unfair, expedited by the fact that the 1% doesn't seem to pay their fair share of the taxes.  Of course this has manifested in the things like government bailouts, and the rich using their power to get richer, while the have nots get nothing.

I actually have always thought this meme was dumb, but
who am I to argue with the Internet.  I just never understood
why cats can't spell and have bad grammar.

At least that's how I've been able to understand the argument, but I'm not going to lie, this is a perception given to me by the media.  I am aware that the media has been known to be scummy, and not report the truth, but whatever will sell newspapers.  Well, really though, who reads newspapers anymore?  Some cliches are just over the hill.  I've also heard people interviewed that think the issue is the system of Capitalism.  They think moving to a Communist state would be the best way to live.  When questioned about the USSR or China, they say well, not that type of Communism, they fell to greed and became corrupt, what I mean is REAL communism. 

Ummm, I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure all real communism is pretty doomed to fail because humans are naturally greedy.  It doesn't work in large scale economies, but works well in smaller situations.  For instance a household where all incomes are put into family bank account which is used to pay the bills, buy the necessities, save for the future, and even buy some luxuries works great.  However, when we try and run a country this way, there are too many different ideals on what the resources should be spent on, so a decision maker has to decide what is the best interests of the people.  So this is can be installed as a dictator or a democracy.  Well, we all know power corrupts, so a dictator will eventually use the resources for their own wants and needs.  I'm not sure if a true democracy would work or not.  It seems to me generally the masses would vote for their own needs as opposed to the good of all, so everyone would have mansions and Ferraris, with no food.

As this picture is already captioned, this seems useless.

Capitalism is defined thus:  "An economic system in which the means of production and distribution are privately or corporately owned and development is proportionate to the accumulation and reinvestment of profits gained in a free market."  More or less it equals this...  Greed drives society.  The pursuit of 'stuff' makes you want to succeed.  So you work to make money to get stuff, and that's how stuff gets made and done.  The more stuff you have the better you are, and the more stuff you want, the more stuff you are willing to do for it.  Take away the desire for stuff, and Capitalism fails.   (This is kind of an important fact.)  The thing I love about Capitalism is this.  The desire for stuff forces people to build better stuff in the hopes that people will buy their stuff.  It drives innovation, and ensures that technology moves forward.

What the protesters don't seem to realise is the solution is very easy.  Just like in a democracy, everyone gets a vote in Capitalism, however, instead of everyone person getting a vote to elect a single person to do whatever, in Capitalism, we vote with our dollars.  The more dollars we have, the more votes we get.  As a result, what ever stuff is making money, the people who produce the stuff will make more of it.  This is the reason that every new kids movie is in 3D, and that everything else is a copy of Twilight, Harry Potter, and the Hunger Games.

Yes, apparently teenage girls are clearly the demographic
Hollywood believes has the most money.

Just because the 1% has the majority of the money, we forget that they have the least amount of people.  The 1% still only has the need of 1% of the population.  It is the 99% that purchases most of the goods in this world.  They are the ones who allow the banks to charge outrageous fees for the privilege of holding their money.  They are the ones who allow the oil companies to raise the cost of gas to non-justifiable fees simply because a bird farted in Texas.  They are the ones who control what stuff is produced, and ensure that stuff is profitable by buying it.  It really is the best example of how true democracy works.  You can't abstain from voting, unless you are willing to go without stuff.  (More on that in another blog). 

So I guess my point is this.  If the 99% really wants to make an impact, sitting around parks, holding up signs, playing music and smoking weed is doing absolutely nothing except making those who are non-radicals, and the 1% do nothing but laugh at you and dismiss you as dirty hippies.  Dirty hippies who want to reinstate the government with Catholic figureheads apparently!  No, instead of fighting Capitalism, make it work for you.  Bring the corporations who you believe treat the people unfairly to their knees.  Stop voting for them and encouraging them with your dollars, and organise protest that they'll have to pay attention to...  Protest against their bottom line.

Oops!  Sorry, our bad.

For example.  Do you guys remember British Petroleum?  The company which spilled tonnes of oil into the Gulf Coast creating an ecological disaster?  I haven't heard a lot about them on the news lately.  I guess I've been distracted about Kim Kardashinans latest marriage exploits.  Anyhow, BP is one of those companies which I feel probably is as good as any to target.  On the scale of evil companies, they are pretty high on the list.  (Citibank, we'll get to you later.)  If the 99% were to absolutely boycott all BP products, all gas stations who used it, all products that employed it, and companies who advocate it.  Boycott absolutely without question, they would be forced to lower their prices, or risk going out of business. When they lower their prices though, still don't let up.  We are not looking for a short term gain, we are looking to send a message to corporations who say 'F*** you, and f*** what you stand for'.  If the 99% could organise and do that, it would actually make an impact!  It might make others who you feel have done you wrong take notice at the power of the 99%.  And if the happy by-product is I get lower gas prices, well then so  be it. (Damn I am tired of expensive gas).

I could go on, and maybe I will, but frankly, this has gone on too long as it is.  I probably lost most of my readers up around the cat picture, so I will stop for now.  Just also to let you know, I really do believe Capitalism works, and I believe that hard work can pay off in both personal satisfaction and stuff.  I also hate when people say something is too hard, when they really mean I am too lazy to put in the effort to do it.  I love my country, and I love my world, and I know that I have the right to try and change if I want to. 

If more people looked at the 100% of the world than the 1% of their small piece of life, I really think that we could do something a little more effective.

Thanks for reading.

The legend of the immortal Joel Higgins

Hello faithful readers, and welcome to today's instalment of 'The Meandering Mind of Matt'.  I thought about what to talk about today and several topics came to mind. 

Was this about communism or fascism?
I can never make up my mind.

I thought briefly about dwelving into the fact political correctness is just away to eliminate words from the English language.  A tactic used in the novel 1984 known as double speak.  By eliminating words, you then give people less ability to express themselves, and eventually less ability to think for themselves.  However, I'm not in the mood to rant tonight, so sorry rant lovers!

I thought about going on about the concept of infinity, and what it truly means to have something go on forever.  How in an infinite subset there must in turn be an infinite amount of possibilities of combinations, which in turn means that we should have been killed by now by space aliens.

But no my friends, tonight I do not rant, or wax poetic about infinite probabilities and other mathematical geeky things.  Tonight I tell you a story...  A story of this man:


Joel Higgins

Suffice to say, many of you have no idea who on earth this is.  Some of my older peers may recognise this man as Edward Stratton III from the sitcom Silver Spoons.  The character he played was a lovable man child who owned a toy company and suffered from Peter Pan syndrome.  He never really wanted to grow up.  One day he found out he had a child, who in Military school had grown up considerably faster than he.  The sitcom focused on their adventures together.

Also, he drove a kick ass train around his living room.

What you don't know however, is that this man whose real name was Joel Higgins, may very well be immortal.  At the very least, he is one of four potential immortal people that walk the face of the earth to this day.



Plus, Demi Moore's boobies...
So there's that!

Please allow me to explain.  You see, when I was younger I watched this movie called The Seventh Sign.  In this movie, the main bad guy was a legendary person by the name of Cartaphilus.  Cartaphilus according to Christian legend struck Christ at the crucifixion and was cursed to wander the earth forever until revelation happened.  (The second coming of Christ).  So as the movie followed the book of Revelation pretty accurately, then if the Bible is to be believed, then Cartaphilus must still be wandering around somewhere on the earth.  As it happens it occurred to my good friend Rob and I that there was a pretty good chance that it might very well be Joel Higgins.  We realised this because it had become our ritual to watch Silver Spoons at lunch during high school, and whenever we saw Joel on the credits we both acknowledged him as the immortal Joel Higgins.  It all made sense.



Behold the immortal 4

Now, having said that, there were also 3 others that we had acknowledged may be immortal.  The first was Elvis.  I mean, the guy kept getting seen at K-Marts, and on park benches.  No way that guy was dying.  Mel Ott, the famous shortstop for the New York Giants.  He had obvious faked his death in 1958 after a hall of fame career.  Rob and I knew the truth, he lived at the end of Rob's street, and constantly had heart attacks that could never kill him.  We were sure of it.  Rounding out the 4 was Lester Elsary.  He was our grade 10 history teacher, one of the most hilariously abusive and sarcastic teacher I ever had.  Also he was rather brilliant in the field of history, and possibly my favourite teacher of all time.  A perfect cover for a man who was well over 2000 years old!  I'm pretty sure that our legend was built around the biblical Cartaphilus, and the plot of the highlander as I'm sure we talked of their legendary combat against one another, and each was sworn to kill the others on sight!  In the end, the fellow we thought was Mel Ott actually did die.  Elvis lives on.  Mr. Eslary went on to teach at other schools, and now, unless the Internet lies, makes historical models.  But Joel...  Joel is a completely different enigma.

That's right, I'm immortal bitches!

Rob and I went on a rampage trying to one up each other to find Joel Higgins memorabilia in the days before the Internet was mainstream.  I bought CD's with the Silver Spoons theme song on it.  Rob researched and found that Joel had co-written a play called 'The Fields of Ambrosia' which ran for 23 nights in London before it closed.  He had ordered a copy of the CD, and played it proudly.  (Joel actually did a lot of Broadway, and had quite the set up pipes!)  I named my pet turtle Joel Higgins, and then ordered the VHS movie "First Affair" which Joel Higgins played the starring role.   (This was before people ever really bought movies, so it was quite expensive, but well worth the look on Rob's face.)  Rob and my other friend Chris, who was begrudgingly in on the joke sang the Silver Spoons theme song as part of the best man speech at my wedding making me laugh uncontrollably, and the rest of the audience look at each other uncomfortably.  It was glorious!

A must have for anyones library.

That's when the Internet stepped things up a notch...  We both agreed that the winner would be the one who could actually get Joel Higgins to visit us.  (Spoiler alert, nobody has won so far but we are talking immortality here, so we have some time to settle the score!)  What I did do is manage to find a Silver Spoons forum where people openly talked about their love for the 80's sitcom.  I having researched the episodes was able to speak with some level of authority on it.   I spouted my opinions, glorified Joel, and slammed down others who sought to say that Rick Schroeder was the true star of the show.  Oh sure, Ricky was a cute little kid and all, but Joel was f***'n immortal!  I met on the forum a lady by the name of Judith Moose.  Judith was uncommonly knowledgeable about Joel personally.  She was writing a book on Silver Spoons, and spoke as if she spoke for him.  I often wonder how she knew him.  (I've recently found the she founded the JM Media Group and Signing Stars Publishing.)  In December 2003, she published her first book, "Together: A Sitcom Lover's Guide To Silver Spoons".  She introduced me to Joel's Official fan page to which I was the first one to post on his guest book.  I gushed about how awesome he was, and how immortal he was, and how I spent my life looking for him on there, in a way that only a deranged lunatic could.  Then in December of 2001 the ultimate thing happened...  I'm pretty sure I have Judith A. Moose to thank for it.  I received an email from Joel Higgins himself wishing me a Merry Christmas and thanking me for the kind words on his fan site.  Now it is quite possible that it was Rob playing a prank on me, but I choose to think the immortal one actually acknowledged my existence.

I will never die!

I never wrote him back which was kind of an idiot move on my part.  Life moves too fast, and I had other things to worry about, and Joel got moved to the back burner of my life.  (Who am I kidding, I got a girlfriend, and sex became way more important than chasing down the immortals.)  I never got a chance to thank Joel for the letter, or the awesome times and laughs in my life that he unknowingly created.  I never got a chance to thank Judith for actually creating that thrill for me.  I found her on facebook recently, and have attempted to add her as a friend, but I doubt she'll remember me.  So i decided to write this blog to hopefully spread the word, and who knows.  Maybe one of them will see it and know that they are appreciated.

Cheers Joel and Judith!