Archive for December 12th, 2012

Nuts With Numbers

I have been prepared for quite some time for people to get wiggy on December 21, 2012. That is because the white people screwed up, in their reading of the old Mayan calendar, and so believe that on that date the world will come to some sort of end.

Kind of a Harold Camping thing, but without the Jesus, or the weird old man.

And, sure enough, as the dread day nears, the frenzy increasingly foams, with flocks of the apocalypse-now faithful streaming to Mount Rtanj in Serbia and Pic de Bugarach in carve pumpkins, not peopleFrance, sites where it is believed that Good extraterrestrials will Somehow kindly contrive to protect those assembled from Armageddon.

But until the last couple days I managed to miss that amongst some of the humans it was not possible to wait until December 21 to get Strange. Instead, there must needs be an outbreak of weirdness today—December 12, 2012. Presumably because in white-people time-counting all the numbers line up, as 12/12/12. Sorta like the slot machine coming up all cherries.

And so we have the spectacle of this man in Texas who, in honor of the day, was compelled to carve a pentagram into the back of his son.

A Richland Hills man has been arrested and charged with assaulting his son after telling a 911 operator he carved a pentagram into his 6-year-old son’s back.

Just after midnight Wednesday, officers were dispatched to a home on the 3700-block of Ruth Road after the boy’s father, identified by police as Brent Troy Bartel, called 911 and said, “I shed some innocent blood.”

When the dispatcher asked what the man meant by that, the man replied, “I inscribed a pentagram on my son.”

The dispatcher asked why and the man said, “It’s a holy day.”

Apparently the nimrod used a box cutter. The good news is that the carving is not deep enough to require stitches, and the child is expected to be alright. Physically.

Now, I have been known to now and again get wired behind numbers. But never have I felt compelled to seek out sharp objects and begin inscribing designs on those near and dear.

I have two words for ol’ Tex there. Dude: Halloween. We have a perfectly good holiday, and every year too, when one may carve to one’s heart’s content. The pumpkins won’t mind. And working out on said vegetables will not get you in the papers. Or put you in the pokey.


We See You

A traditional indicator that one’s consumption of methamphetamine and/or cocaine has proceeded beyond the bounds of reason is determinedly marching out of the house at three o’clock in the morning to tinker in the innards of an automobile. Another is the glass jar containing the accumulated invisible spiders and mites plucked from one’s pores, recurrently flourished before various friends, acquaintances, we see youand medical personnel. Then there is the conviction that down at the neighborhood church, seemingly respectable burghers maintain in the basement a satanic child-sex ring. And finally, there is the Knowledge that there on the top of the television, somewhere in the cable box, They are Looking at you.

Seems now we’re going to have to strike this last one off the list. Because it is about to become Real.

Verizon, Comcast, Google TV, and Microsoft have all submitted patent applications for televisions and/or DVRs designed to Look and Listen, whether cocaine is drooling out of your nostrils, methamphetamine is gibbering in your veins, or no.

More and more in this world, it is no longer possible to make shit up. No matter how Wrong or Weird it may be, chances are that, somewhere, it is Real.

Take Verizon’s proposed Watch Box, bristling with cameras and microphones, and traveling under the terrifying rubric “Detection Facility 104.” Here is some of what the company told the gub’mint boys the device will Do.

—If your DVR hears you getting frisky on the couch, it will input terms like “romance, love, cuddle” into the system and play “a commercial for a romantic getaway vacation, a commercial for a contraceptive, a commercial for flowers, a commercial including a trailer for an upcoming romantic comedy movie.”

—”Additionally or alternatively, if detection facility 104 detects that a couple is arguing/fighting with each other, advertising facility 106 may select an advertisement associated marriage/relationship counseling.”

—Your DVR will be able to know what kind of beer you’re drinking: “If detection facility 104 detects a particular object (e.g., a Budweiser can) within a user’s surroundings, advertising facility 106 may select an advertisement associated with the detected object (e.g., a Budweiser commercial).”

—If you seem stressed, to be considerate the DVR will show you an ad for “aromatherapy candles.”

The mind reels. It pictures law-enforcement officers arriving at the scene of the latest domestic murder-suicide, wading through buckets of sad blood, as over there in the “entertainment center” Detection Facility 104 serenely cycles through sunny blooms of flowers, cheery seas of beer cans, a clutch of smell-powered flame objects, and the Kind and Concerned visage of Dr. Feelgood, renowned relationship adept.

Do we need Detection Facility 104? No. What should be done with it? Hunter S. Thompson knows: it should be “hurled out to sea and stomped down like a dwarf in a shitrain.”

So let it be written. So let it be done.

When I Worked

December 2012
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