Annoying Advertising

Have you seen the Ford Edge commercials with the two guys who pull up next to each other, each driving a Ford Edge, going opposite directions, so they can talk about their Ford Edges? I don't understand ad campaigns like this one. It doesn't make me want to buy a Ford Edge, it makes me think these two guys are gay for their cars (not that there's anything wrong with that). It's an interesting look at auto-erotica, but it doesn't make we want to run out and buy a Ford Edge. Here, I'll paraphrase the ad for you:

Guy #1: Did you hear about how quiet the Ford Edge is?

Guy #2: No. How quiet is it?

Guy #1: It's so quiet that it won a quiet contest against a Lexus.

Guy #2: It won a quiet contest? How did it do that?

Guy #1: (sits quietly)

Guy #2: Wow, that's pretty quiet!

Guy #1: That's right. Now let's get out and masturbate on our cars.

Guy #2: Finally!

I'm So High

I've just set a personal record for running mileage in a single month at 80.5 miles. My previous best was 80.22 in November of last year. To some people these numbers are not impressive, but for me they're huge. I started running in 2004 and I'm no phenom, but I plod along pretty well for someone who works a full time job and tries to keep several other hobbies going. This month I also went over 2000 running miles total since starting in 2004, so it's a month of milestones. I've run the Bolder Boulder several times, numerous other 10K and 5K races and a half marathon. But I've never been high.

I've heard of the runner's high, and I guess I expected to experience it before now. I've been running and waiting, running and waiting for 4 years. I think I was expecting a moment of epiphany where I was exposed to some momentous vision or maybe a glimpse of the meaning of life. At the very least I would have liked a feeling of giddyness, like that moment in a bar when you first realize you're buzzed. But what I got was nothing. 4 years of nothing.

This week I think I finally got it. It wasn't what I expected, but at the same time it was better. I didn't learn the meaning of existence, or discover the secret to world peace. What happened was I ran outside myself. I was 3 miles into a 7 mile run when I realized I wasn't breathing heavy, I wasn't straining, but rather I was smooth, fluid and felt like I could maintain that pace forever. I was in the moment, but unaware of the moment. I forgot that I was running. I forgot everything. I just ran. Before I knew it I was at mile 6 and almost done. I had chased, and caught, another runner who held out for a while, then fell back and was gone behind me. I was cruising through that last mile at a 7:30 pace, which is flying for me. And then, the run was over.

It wasn't until I was cooling down that I replayed the run in my mind, and I realized what had happened. I finally got the mythical runner's high. I don't know what went right on this run, or what circumstances aligned on this day, but I know I look at running a little differently now. Today when I tied my new shoes and headed out for 6 miles, I did so not with a time or a speed in mind, but just wanting to run by feel. And I have to tell you, it felt good.

Attack Of The Clones

I'm reading the book America Alone by Mark Steyn. It's a doomsday tome that so far is centered around the fact that the global birth rate is lower than that needed to sustain growth, and the birth rates in many European nations are low enough so that their populations will halve in the next generation. Spain, for example, has a birth rate of 1.1 children per woman - in other words, two parents have 1 child. Use round numbers like 100 parents produce 50 children, and you can see the issue. If those 50 have 25 children, in two generations the populace can't sustain itself economically. The second premise of the book (thus far) is that Islamic people are filling the voids in the population in Europe. Many countries are 40% Muslim already.

The demographics at play here may do more to alter our thinking about genetics than anything else. If people won't have children, or can't have children, why not produce clones? If the technology were there to produce healthy, viable, offspring that were indistinguishable from a normally conceived child, I can imagine that the people on waiting lists for adoption would take them in a heartbeat. The designer children would be, by design, disease resistant, athletically superior, predisposed to higher than average intelligence and essentially perfect in every way a parent could want.

Sure, the ethics of cloning come into question, but if a society was facing extinction, or at least the death of it's preferred way of life, I think the ethical debate would be short lived. People have done worse things in the name of preserving their way of life (the holocaust comes to mind), so why would this be so hard to believe?

GATTACA Is Our Future

I really liked the movie GATTACA. It seemed like a very plausible version of the future, though it went off on the Orwellian theme a bit. That's the problem with movies like that; they always dwell on all of the bad things that come from messing with nature and none of the good stuff. Sure, insurance companies would probably use DNA analysis to remove people from eligibility because of a predisposition to heart disease, but once they have the ability to scan for those kinds of defects, they'll soon be able to alter your DNA to switch that sucker off. People that are afraid of the repercussions should remember that if we learn nothing else from comic books, it's that nearly every time someone has had some sort of DNA altering experience they wound up with a super power.

To get past all the liberals and the ACLU law-dogs, the science nerds will focus their DNA altering skills on two things to start with: boners and baldness. If they find a way to switch off the baldness gene the lawmakers will fall all over themselves to allow the work to go forward. Fix erectile dysfunction and you've got a gold rush on your hands. Once the train's in motion, we're only a frogs hair away from ending other scourges as well...horrible genetic betrayals like being ugly. Imagine a world where you go to a bar and all the girls are pretty, and not just at 2 AM. In other words it would be like Salt Lake City.

Really The Biggest Loser

I don't want to sound like a stand up comedian here, but have you heard about this product called Alli (Orlistat)? It's a "weight loss aid" that works by preventing the absorption of fat in your intestines. Sounds reasonable, except for the side effects.

With most drugs you have a litany of side effects that are either mild enough to be acceptable or are so far out that you can't imagine it will happen to you. Things like "some people taking Zibulox experience tingling in their fingers." If Zibulox prevents hemorrhoids and the trade off is tingly fingers, that's a deal. "More severe side effects include the growth of rectal gnomes who will keep you awake mining your feces for corn to make E-85." Now, that's just something that won't happen to me....after all, I haven't heard of that on the news, so Zibulox is still getting the green light from me.

Not so with Alli. This is straight from their pamphlet (emphasis is mine): "The MAIN side effect occurs when you eat a meal with too much fat while taking Alli." So far that's not promising because that seems like something that is likely to happen. It goes on: "If so much fat is blocked that your stool can't absorb it, you might have side effects." The flyer then explains that they prefer to call them "treatment effects." Then it hits you with the whammy: "These include loose or more frequent stools that may be hard to control, or gas with an oily discharge. The excess fat that passes out of your body is not harmful. In fact, you may recognize it as something that looks like the oil on top of a pizza."

What the fuck kind of pizza do these people eat? To summarize, when you're taking this weight loss supplement and you eat a meal with too much fat (which is what got you in trouble in the first place) you are likely to either have frequent diarrhea, shit yourself or have oily farts.

Bruce: "Hey Bob, looks like you sat on an oily piece of pizza. Quite a stain on the seat of the old pants there."

Bob: "Nope, that's just an oily discharge from a fart. It sure looks like the oil on slice of pizza though. Thanks to Alli, I'm farting myself thin!"

Bruce: "I just threw up in my mouth a little."

If this thing starts to take off, I'm buying stock in Kimberly-Clark, the maker of Depends. Now, more than ever, they're not just for people with bladder control problems!

That's a shame

"That's a shame." Seinfeld used to say that whenever one of Kramer, George or Elaine's schemes went awry. I have decided that, like Seinfeld, I am not a nice person. It's not that I'm mean, so to speak, but I am just indifferent about other people's plights. I was pulling around a traffic circle the other day and a guy on a mountain bike came from the side street into the circle, and he was really flying. I had a fleeting thought of "He's going way too fast." Sure enough, he got to the opposite side of the circle and wiped out. He got up, looked at the scrapes on his elbows and knees, and pulled his bike out of traffic. Rather than stop and ask if he was OK, I just thought to myself "That's a shame," and kept on driving. It wasn't until later that I wondered if he was hurt.

Another example...while stopped in traffic, I noticed a guy gesticulating wildly at the lady in front of him. Normally I disregard this kind of stuff, but we were too far back from the light to make through on the next green light, so I figured this would be good entertainment for the next few minutes. He was still waving and pointing at the woman in front of him. She was driving a Jetta and had a bike on the rack on the roof. Also lying on the roof was her bike helmet., and that's what the guy was trying to her. My first thought was "Oh, that sucks for her." Again, I didn't think of helping her, or telling her (I could have as I was in the lane beside her), but I was merely content to observe.

So this guy was trying to get her attention, and she finally acknowledged him. She opened her sunroof and grabbed the helmet, lifted it up and it caught tight on the bike rack. She tugged on on it a few times to demonstrate that she had latched the straps of the helmet around the rack, then closed the sunroof. I have no clue why she would latch the helmet to the roof rack rather than tossing it in the back seat, but I think this is the crux of why I don't ever do things to be nice. First of all, people do so many stupid things that you could run out of daylight trying to help them all. In reality, you may think you're doing someone a favor, but whatever they've done, they've done on purpose. Or they're embarrassed by what they've done so they act like it was on purpose. Either way, you've got nothing for your trouble but a disdainful look from someone who was bothered by your intrusion.

Obviously, if someone was hurt badly or being attacked, I wouldn't hesitate to help. Otherwise, and maybe I'm just jaded, but unless someone actually asks for help I'm content to observe and if something goes badly, well, that a shame.

Splatterpoop And The Adult Diaper Dilemma

I called my friend Derrick a couple of weeks ago. He's just had his second kid and we haven't talked in forever, so I rang him up and we talked for about an hour. It was great catching up with him, but he left me with a nagging question. Here's the situation...

He's got a relative who is getting on in years and has to use adult diapers (don't chuckle - we're all headed there!). His wife was talking about this relative to another relative and asked if, when they saw him the other day, he was "poopy." Derrick's whole point in telling me this is that it's pretty common to refer to a baby as being "poopy" when it needs a diaper change, but it's kind of disturbing to refer to an adult family member as "poopy." There has to be, he said, a better word for it.

I have been pondering over this off and on since Derrick and I spoke. With the baby boomers growing older, there is going to be a glut of people who have to go the diaper route in the next 10-15 years. And Derrick is right - I can't see myself asking my mom if my dad is "poopy." I decided that this is a linguistic hole that needs to be filled.

I asked a few people their opinions about this, and I learned a few things in the process. First, not everyone is comfortable talking about poop at work. One person even told me that this was "inappropriate" right before they left to use the rest room. I could almost smell the irony.

Then there's the other extreme. Some people had poop stories at the ready, like they'd been waiting for the right time to use them, and here it was. My favorite was this one, mainly for the visual: "I have a friend who lives in England and he goes to Europe all the time. He told me that in Holland they call diarrhea 'splatterpoop.'"

I haven't been able to confirm that, but it sounds right, and I can certainly get the mental picture. But I digress....

Today's question: what should it be called when an adult has crapped their diaper?

The Debate I Want To See

A lot of politics today is not conducted in Washington or in the state capitals, but in the mythical land where reason is often suspended. I'm talking about Hollywood. I find it strange that people in the entertainment industry are lent such power, but they fact is that they easily gain entry to people's houses where most politicians find the doors shut and locked. People get excited to watch The Daily Show, but most won't even set their Tivo for the debates.

Now, I'm a conspiracy theorist when it comes to the entertainment industry. I think that the actors, comedians and their ilk have a deal with the liberal politicians. The politicos want to play at being loved entertainers, while the entertainers want to pretend that they have something substantial to say. The American public, for a large part, want to have someone lead them to a conclusion so they don't have to think or pay attention, or learn anything...it's almost like people say "Tell me who to vote for and I'll do that on my way to Carl's Jr."

I have a great sense of humor, but in Hollywood there's an agenda to much of the programming, and it leans in one direction, while a few people, like Dennis Miller go against the grain. That's a dangerous move in the entertainment industry, but he makes it work.

So here's the debate I would like to see - Dennis Miller vs. anyone in Hollywood. Colbert. Stewart. Lewis Black. It's amazing to me to see Dennis Miller now - he's full of conviction, and his whole ideology changed after 9/11. He levies criticism where it's deserved, but he sticks to his guns about his beliefs, and doesn't sacrifice his country's soul for a laugh.

Technology - To Die For?

How far would you go to retrieve your cell phone if you dropped it? Would you stuff half of your body in a storm sewer to get your phone back? If you said "yes" you should read this story: http://www.fdlreporter.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070607/FON0101/306070031

This guy actually DIED trying to get his phone out of the storm sewer in front of his house. I think there are a couple of lessons here.

1. Don't drop your phone in the sewer.
2. If you do, don't just dunk your head in there like you're bobbing for apples, unless you have someone there to help you get out.
3. Lastly, if you're THREE HUNDRED POUNDS maybe you should get someone smaller to go spelunking. I mean, really - isn't that the kind of thing people have kids for?

Flying Cars!

The future, as I envisioned it when I was 10, is almost here! The Terrafugia Transition flying car is on the horizon. Here's a video clip of how it works: http://www.flixxy.com/terrafugia-transition-flying-car.htm.

Imagine being able to fly wherever you're going...flying over all of the traffic, by-passing red lights, rude drivers and speed traps. It would be awesome...but it won't work. I can think of several reasons why.

First, like in the video, you would have to have a place to take off and land, and that would require order and patience to get to your turn. This would be inconvenient, especially considering that people can't wait 5 seconds to allow you to pass without pulling out in front of you. Last Saturday a woman passed me on the inside (I was going 10 over the limit!) and passed the car in front of me through a turn lane so she could turn right at the next light. Neither me nor the woman in front of me were turning, so this gal saved herself exactly no time as she wound up precisely where she would have been had she been driving the speed limit. Pardon the pun, but in an airborne vehicle this kind of "driving" won't fly.

Second, people cannot (in general) manage well in two dimensions, so I doubt that they'll do better navigating in three. For instance, many people cannot merge into traffic from a side road without causing congestion. Some will actually cause accidents because they hesitate or actually stop in the merge lane. In an airborne vehicle, hesitation means plummeting to the ground and dying. Inability to negotiate traffic means collisions. Collisions in an airborne vehicle mean, again, plummeting to the ground and dying.

Third, I imagine that the permits required and the requisite insurance would be more expensive than the average person would want to pay in both time and dollars, especially since a percentage of the population won't register or insure their cars today. At $148,000 the vehicle itself would cost more than some people's houses. That may be the only thing keeping it viable - only the truly rich could afford it, and they'll probably have a trained driver/pilot to ferry them about.

It's OK to dream though, and for a $7400 deposit and the patience to wait until 2009, the Terrafugia Transition makes this dream almost a reality.