Thursday, June 7, 2012

Superpowers Battle... Over Twitter


Okay, we’ve been through this before.  I don’t write on this blog very much.  Maybe we can just call it a semi-annual thing.  Anyway, if you happen to be an unusually dedicated fan of blogs with less than 5 posts, or if you accidentally found this because you Googled “The Moose Outside” then you’re in luck!  I actually have something to say.

Now, I’m not a very cynical or fatalistic person (which explains my lack of material for blogging), but after reading the following news article, my faith in humanity has been shaken to its very core.  While perusing through YahooNews, I came across this headline: “US Won’t Stop Tweeting China Air Quality Readings.”  How could I possibly not read this?  Sure enough, the story was simply too hilarious to have actually happened.

As you may expect, the whole thing reads like a couple of high schoolers fighting with each other.  Keep in mind that this is between the United States and China.  They’re kind of a big deal.  The article doesn’t go into detail.  All it says is that the US embassy in Beijing has been sending daily tweets of the city’s air quality and that China isn’t happy about it.  I assume the whole thing went down with some American diplomat tweeting, “OMG It smells like all 1 billion people ordered the moo shu pork for dinner #chinasucks”  China’s spokesman, Wu Xiaoqing, gave a long response which basically said, “Mind your own business.”  America gave their final retort by saying that “Washington would have no problem if Chinese embassies wanted to start monitoring air quality in the US capital and sending out their own reports.”  Witty, but also a little bit catty.  Basically it’s the perfect argument for a 16-year-old girl.

And this leads me to the problem that I have with this whole story.  I am of the firm opinion that nations should not be using Twitter.  In a political system marred by controversy following the advent of the sound bite, how could you possibly expect anything positive to be said in 140 characters or less?  Eventually, diplomacy would completely break down.  China would resort to calling us “#capitalistpigs” and we’d respond by calling them a bunch of “commie f**s” and then that would be it.  We may backtrack and delete the post.  But it’s too late.  France saw it and now he’s telling.  Stupid France.  So there, WWIII begins with a catfight and ends with a nuclear holocaust.  And frankly, how does an entire country tweet anyway?  Is there a guy who’s appointed to be the blurbal embodiment of America?  Is it his job to assess American sentiments and condense them into 140 coherent characters?  That would be an interesting one.  “Brushed my teeth, kicked some terrorist’s @$$. Tonight i’m gonna pick on china for being dirty @mericaftw”

If you want to read the article:

http://news.yahoo.com/us-wont-stop-tweeting-china-air-quality-readings-030537350.html

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Scrambled Priorities

Okay, so I know it has been a very long time since I’ve posted anything. I apologize to both of my avid readers for my lack of inspiration. It is very difficult to write regularly without a specific theme. Political bloggers write about the politicians that they hate, fashion bloggers write about the styles that they hate. There isn’t much that I hate consistently enough to be able to post a weekly blog. However, yesterday, something happened that really got me thinking. Someone egged my car.

Or rather, someone tried to egg my car. When I walked outside yesterday morning, I found a smashed egg on the pavement under my car, just in front of the back right tire. Apparently, somebody had attempted to throw an egg at my car the night before and missed. And this is exactly what is wrong with America today.

This mystery vandal obviously lacked the motivation to properly deface my property. Only one egg was used and was not thrown with any care. What the vandal needs to understand is that his service comes with certain expectations. When somebody tells me that my car has been egged, I am expecting to spend a couple of good hours hosing down the car. This is not what I received. Instead, I received nothing more than an obstacle to walk around before hopping into my car and driving to Subway. What does that do for me?

Vandalism is not the place for cutting corners. Only using one egg demonstrates that the perpetrator was more interested in saving a buck than in sending me a message. Throwing the egg so carelessly shows that he feels his time is more valuable than mine. What is this world coming to when everybody is looking out for number one? Pretty soon, Halloween TPers will merely leave a single roll of toilet paper on my doorstep with a note that says, “Gotcha.” I don’t want to live in that America. I dream of a land in which vandals value quality, not efficiency. Where the message sent is more important than the money saved. Where disregard for personal property actually means something. That’s the America I want to be a part of.

Friday, September 23, 2011

One Bad Apple Ruins the Whole Bunch

Now, many people use blogs for political purposes. I try not to be one of those people. I'd say that with my solitary blog post not being about politics, I've got a pretty good track record. This being said, sometimes political issues wind up being a source of comedy. In these cases, I just can't help myself.

Take this story that I literally just read. Basically, the state of Texas has ended their policy of fulfilling a death-row inmate's last meal request before his execution. This debate stems from a list of expensive meal requests, particularly from one James Byrd. This man, awaiting his execution, ordered "two chicken fried steaks, a triple-meat bacon cheeseburger, fried okra, a pound of barbecue, three fajitas, a meat lover's pizza, a pint of ice cream and a slab of peanut butter fudge with crushed peanuts. Prison officials said Brewer didn't eat any of it.”

Of all the evils in the world, this one tops them all. Byrd is obviously unconcerned with the feelings of others. I mean, it’s one thing to strap a man to a pickup truck and drag him along the road in a fit of racial hatred. But once you ungraciously raid your host’s refrigerator, that’s just plain rude.

That being said, it wouldn’t be fair to punish everyone because of the actions of a single individual. This is America after all. I’m sure there are a lot of polite murderers out there on death row who would ask for nothing more than a small salad and be happy to get it. But who’s giving them a voice? No one. It just makes me sick to think that if I ever find myself on death row, I’m not going to get a filet mignon. Are there no more perks to capital punishment? Does the government care about its citizens at all, or is it just looking out for number one? So far, I’ve dealt with the government stamping on my rights, but this is the last straw. I’m seriously considering moving to Canada, where they respect this old tradition.

What also concerns me is the politicians’ lack of foresight. Let’s look at the long history of the last meal. The article states that, “historical references to a condemned person's last meal go as far back as ancient Greece, China and Rome… Some of it is apparently rooted in superstition about meals warding off possible haunting by condemned people once they are put to death.” Do politicians even see what’s at stake here? Sure they’ll save money on meal purchases, but at the cost of the citizens’ safety.

If I’m ever haunted by the ghost of an axe murderer, I know who to blame.

Here’s the article if you want to read it:

http://news.yahoo.com/texas-prisons-end-special-last-meals-executions-195102056.html

Thursday, September 15, 2011

The Great Foosball Heist

Hello All! Actually, since this is my first blog post, I should say "Hello Nobody!" Before I get into the subject of my first post, I should give an explanation for my sudden need for this blog. First, I have a tremendous ego and I feel that everything I say should be made available to the world without the hassle of me getting up and speaking to actual human beings. More importantly, I have noticed over the last few months that there are some things that I have witnessed that are just too funny or fantastic to capture in a simple facebook post. These ideas have stirred within me until tonight, when I witnessed an event that I must tell the whole world about...

As an introduction, I attend Wabash College. It is an all male college in Crawfordsville, Indiana. Basically, it's a tiny school in a small town in a cornfield. People often ask me, "Why do you go to an all-guys school?" I don't know. I wasn't really thinking about it during the application process. I think most guys go to Wabash to avoid the fact that they've had some bad luck with girls in high school. But I digress (I've always wanted to say that, but I digress). Anyway, I'm a junior and by now, most college antics don't really attract much of my attention. I've seen a lot by this point. Tonight though, I witnessed an event which simultaneously made me laugh and fear for the future of humanity. It was what can only be called The Great Foosball Heist.

So, I was hanging out with some friends in one of the dorms, Martindale. As I was exiting the back door to return to my own dorm, College Hall (a very specific name for a college dorm), I saw four freshmen who shall remain nameless (because I don't know them) attempting to steal one of Martindale's foosball tables. I wish I could claim to be witness to one of those meaningless, yet cunning and elaborate pranks that goes down in college folklore. I wish I could say this, but I can't. What I saw was four freshmen who, for reasons unknown, decided that it would not be in their best interests to carry this heavy piece of equipment across the ramped walkway out of the Martindale property. Instead, these four Wabash gentlemen thought it would be a better idea to hoist this foosball table over a five-foot concrete wall. Naturally, they got stuck. Three freshmen, living in Martindale, spotted them and threatened all kinds of meaningless things like videotaping them and showing the Dean (with an imaginary video camera, I guess). Mostly, they just complained. Somehow or other, the four bandits managed to overcome their unnecessary obstacles, jump over the wall and make off into the night.

As I made my way back to the dorm, I heard something in the direction of Grant Street. So, I walked quietly over and spotted it. Four guys carrying a foosball table by the side of the road. As cars drove by, they made a great effort to appear inconspicuous. Whenever a car would drive by, the four sly bandits would set the foosball table down and look the other way, a sure sign of innocence. Anyway, I watched them for a while, until they finally made it to their destination. They brought it through the front door of College Hall! You can imagine how overjoyed I was to discover that my dorm was getting a new foosball table. I was so excited that I went back to my room and checked my email.

For those of you growing weary of this story, I must tell you that there is a Part II. Be happy, there's no Part III. A few minutes after this whole ordeal, I heard a loud thumping noise just outside my door. I walked outside to see what was going on, when, to my great surprise, it was the three Martindale freshmen returning to serve justice upon the evildoers! They had discovered the lair of the four thieves, broken in, and reclaimed their precious foosball table. They then proceeded to jam their prize into the narrow side entrance, creating not victory, but a fire hazard. I felt pity for the poor freshman attempting to wiggle the table through a hole narrower than it. In my moment of sympathy, I advised him to use the front door instead. He didn't take my advice. Instead, he abandoned the table, ran down the block to Martindale, grabbed a screwdriver, ran back to College Hall, and disassembled the foosball table. I did not follow him back, but I can imagine him returning to his room with pieces of plastic in his hands, air in his head, and pride in his heart.

I managed to talk with some of the seven freshmen who played roles in this Great Foosball Heist. I wish I could say they were drunk. It would make me feel much safer if they were. No, these men were just dumb. But even so, I believe these men have taught us something important. I will close with one final statement that you should take with you wherever you go. Always remember, that with hard work and determination, you can succeed at even your dumbest ideas.