I FEEL LIKE I'M FIXIN' TO DIE

Well come on all of you big strong men,

Uncle Sam needs your help again,

He got himself in a terrible jam,

Way down yonder with Taliban,

Put down your books and pick up a gun,

We're gonna have a whole lotta fun

And its 1,2,3 what are we fighting for?

Don't ask me I don't give a damn,

The next stop is Pakistan,

And its 5,6,7 open up the pearly gates,

Well there ain't no time to wonder why,

WHOOPEE we're all gonna die

Well come on wall street don't be slow,

Why man this is war go go go,

There's plenty good money to be made,

By supplying the army with the tools of the trade,

Just hope and pray that if they drop the bomb

They don’t drop it wrong.

And its 1,2,3 what are we fighting for?

Don't ask me I don't give a damn,

The next stop is Pakistan,

And its 5,6,7 open up the pearly gates,

Well there ain't no time to wonder why,

WHOOPEE we're all gonna die

Well come on generals let's move fast,

Your big chance is come at last,

Gotta go out and get those arabs,

The only good muslim is one that's dead,

And you know that peace can only be won,

When you blow them all to kingdom come

And its 1,2,3 what are we fighting for?

Don't ask me I don't give a damn,

The next stop is Pakistan,

And its 5,6,7 open up the pearly gates,

Well there ain't no time to wonder why,

WHOOPEE we're all gonna die

Well come on mothers across the land,

Pack your boys off to Pakistan,

Come on fathers don't hesitate,

Send your sons off before its too late,

Be the first one on your block,

To have your boy come home in a box

And its 1,2,3 what are we fighting for?

Don't ask me I don't give a damn,

The next stop is Pakistan,

And its 5,6,7 open up the pearly gates,

Well there ain't no time to wonder why,

WHOOPEE we're all gonna die

Well it is official. President Obama has announced that we are officially at war in Pakistan and not just sending drones across the border to blow the hell out of them. WHOOPEE.

Ohh, and the above picture is not photoshopped. It really is one of the Taliban's leaders talking to Wired about how he is addicted to his iPhone.

NERDS RULE!!!!

I just would like to take this moment to say that NERDS RULE!! The Woz received the lowest judges score for the last six years on Dancing With The Stars, yet after viewer votes are added, he ended up in the top 4.

What else did you expect when you use telecom lines and the internet for your voting? The other contestants are doing battle on our turf.

It is all a Pinko plot.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! It looks like DRM not only punishes us average law abiding citizens but affects political leaders too.

In case you missed the news, when Prime Minister Gordon Brown made his first visit to the White House he presented President Obama with an ornamental pen holder made from the wood of the sister ship that provided the wood for the Oval Office desk and a first-edition set of a seven-volume biography about Winston Churchill. A pretty cool and thoughtful gift.

President Obama gave PM Brown a 25 disk set of classic American movies. The kind you see in the clearance bin at Best Buy. The English people were pretty upset and thought it was a snub by the White House. Personally I think Obama is a terrible gift giver.

However, the story gets much better. Apparently, the White House bought Region 1 DVDs and not Region 2 DVDs. All DVDs are encoded with a DRM scheme to allow them to only be played on DVD players from the region in which they are bought. So PM Brown is forced to either throw the presidential gift of DVDs into the trash OR become a law-breaking pirate if it wants to watch them.

When will the world wake up and realize that DRM is stupid and only handcuffs the good guys?

Take On Me.

Rome is Burning.

On Friday I sent out a text message to some friends that said “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no NIT,” but the truth is that I do fear the NIT. Since I was Sophie’s age, the University of Kentucky has always made the NCAA tournament (except for those years that an express mail package busts open filled with cash). To say that I feel adrift is an understatement. Being a Kentucky basketball fan is more than simply cheering the local squad. In many ways it a defining quality of what it is to be a Kentuckian. And right now, the program is separating the men from the assholes.

My fear of the NIT is that if we do very well, it will be akin to a 19 year old beating up a 7th grader at the playground. And if we suck…. well, I don’t really want to think about that. My fear was compounded yesterday when the NIT bracket was released and we received a 4 seed. You read that correctly, the storied Kentucky basketball program received a 4 seed in the NIT.

As I made clear in my earlier post, I am not advocating that we publically lynch Coach Gillespie. Ignoring the fact that we need to give the coach more than two years, it would be very counter-productive to the program to fire a coach after the team achieved a winning season. Simply having more wins than loses is not acceptable; but, it could have been worse.

So I sit in the middle of March with nothing to do. I could watch and enjoy the NCAA tournament even though my team isn’t playing but it seems weird. I am sure that many of you do this (I am looking at you South Dakota readers) but part of me feels like I should give up on the tournament as a sort of punishment. Yes, I realize how stupid that sounds.

Before anyone suggests that I support one of the other three Kentucky teams in the tournament, I plan on doing just this (even Louisville but I am gritting my teeth).

So what else happens in March?

The White Man's Burden.

Here in Kentucky the weather is finally starting to turn warm for stretches longer than 8.6 seconds and with it comes my annual lamenting of the fact that society has failed men. Sunshine, warm temperatures and birds singing are nice but this move away from winter always disrupts my life. The kids love playing in the park and my wife enjoys opening all of the windows. You see people on the street smiling but in the back of my mind I am stressing over what the hell I am going to do with all of my crap.

I am something of a packrat and winter plays very well with this quirk. My winter coat (which incidentally by calling it a “winter coat” would bring howls of laughter from our northern friends) is blessed with 6 very large and deep pockets. These pockets are filled with various bits and allows me to become a walking Home Depot.

So what am I to do? Seinfeld, if it has taught us nothing, has taught us that no matter how hard you believe, a European Carry-All will never be anything but a purse. I am comfortable enough in my manhood to wear pink shirts to work, but I draw the line at walking around with a purse. Over the years I have thought of a few alternatives but each has their own drawbacks.

1. The Fishing Vest. At first glance this appears to be the perfect substitute for my winter coat. Even more pockets, light weight and comfortable. For weekends this would be a perfect solution. The problem arises during the work week. I wear a dress shirt and tie everyday to work and in my mind’s eye the fishing vest just doesn’t go with dress clothes. In fact it strikes me as something the Unabomber would wear. Nothing screams unhinged like dress clothes and a ratty fishing vest loaded with shit.
   
   

2. A briefcase. During the workweek a briefcase would be an adequate solution even though I would hate carrying the thing. However, all of my non-work clothes were purchased circa 1994 and have a distinctly out of date grunge look. I think I would rather walk around with a purse than look like a wanker wearing worn out jeans, t-shirt, flannel shirt and briefcase. This is the kind of person that would be beaten in the street by Pixie fans.


3. A Backpack. A backpack has all of the advantages of a briefcase plus the benefit of not having to carry it. I hate the idea of lugging the thing around but it would work. The biggest disadvantage of the backpack is my vanity. I am 31 years old and having a backpack slung over your shoulder strikes me as something for much younger people. Not sure why, but to me using a backpack for everyday use just seems like something you should leave behind in your twenties.


4. A Sherpa. Hiring a Sherpa to lug all of my crap would work, but my car is pretty small as it is and I don’t really have room for another person. That and a white guy hiring an ethnic minority as a personal servant to follow them around everywhere doesn’t seem like such a good idea.


5. A Pack Mule. Again, this would work but I think my office would not appreciate a mule defecating on the floor in my office.

Society has failed men by not providing us with a social appropriate storage device. A Bag of Holding (or for you non-D&Ders, a bag with an Undetectable Extension Charm like Hermione’s) would work but despite my silent prayers each night, magic doesn’t seem to actually exist.

1-800-HELP-ME

This morning I feel like a woman that is continuously beat up by her man but keeps returning to him time after time. I want to make excuses for his sorry behavior. He will change. This time is different. It is my fault, as I was just too hard on him and put too much pressure on him. He loves me. He really does. You people just don’t understand.

I AM still making excuses and defending him, but… Georgia. I mean really…Georgia. We have arguably two of the top three best players in the SEC but we lose to…. Georgia.

Anyone know of a local shelter for abused basketball fans?

All I Really Need to Know I Learned in D&D.

This may come as quite a shock to many of my readers, but I am a nerd and have been one for quite some time. While it isn’t entirely clear exactly when I underwent this metamorphosis, my best guess is that it was sometime during the second trimester, which interestingly enough, was about the same time my mother attended a KISS concert with me in the womb. My specific taxonomic classification would have me placed within the Phylum of Escapist and further classified within the Class of Role-Player/Comic Book Geek.

Since I have never really been cured of this affliction (despite the fact that I somehow ended up marrying such a hottie), I have been playing D&D with Riley and my cousin Paul (who is much closer in age to Riley than to me). During these sessions I have subconsciously found myself imparting life lessons upon the boys.

I am currently playing a Halfling Rogue whose personality is patterned on Bernie Maddoff. As such, I have convinced Riley and Paul to “invest” their gold into my “sure-fire” investment strategy. At level 1 they have already given me most of their gold and I convinced them that the best way for them to maximize the return on their investment is to recruit more investors. During the same session, our DM, Brett convinced Paul to purchase the extended warranty on a sword he purchased at the market.

These sessions have got me thinking and I quickly came to the realization that D&D has taught me several important aspects to life. Here are just a few.

1. Check for Traps. It is the wise player that when entering into an unfamiliar room within a dungeon or opening a chest filled with treasure, first stops and searches for traps. This is good advice. Unknown situations can harbor all kinds of dangers and it is common sense to “look before you leap”, be it kicking in a door to rescue the princess or buying a used car. Anyone know the challenge rating of used car salesmen?


2. Adventuring with Idiots. I can’t count the number of times that my adventuring party was slaughtered because of some asinine action on the part of another player. Just because it was your friend that was the idiot doesn’t mean that you are going to be immune from the consequences. This is particularly important when you are forced to make constitution checks due to the imbibing of alcohol.


3. Know your Foe. If you find yourself in a battle with a Wraith and have never learned that non-magical weapons will have no effect, then you are going to die very fast. Whatever you are trying to accomplish in life, it is important to be as informed as possible. That and bringing your towel.


4. Run Away!! Run Away!! Just like King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table, when faced with challenge beyond your level (e.g. the Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog) the best course of action is to run away. Yeah, the girl is cute, but you have been slapped five times in a row. Run Away!! Run Away!!


5. Grimoire of Big Booms. Quick!! Which is most likely to do more damage, rolling 1d12 or 1d8+4? Sometimes it seems that an advanced degree in mathematics is required to complete a single round of combat in D&D. In reality, the complex number-crunching of your average min-maxer has applications in everyday life. OK, maybe not, but I would like to think that all of that number crunching has made me slightly better at math.
   


6. Negotiating with Gods. In every role players life there will arise a situation where you need to make a wish. To most folks being grated a wish would be a wonderful gift. To a role player it means that you need to spend hours drafting an air tight verbal contract in a Faustian attempt to close all possible loopholes. And you will fail. No matter how hard you try, your DM is going to find a loophole in your wish and make you pay for not having an army of lawyers on retainer. Personally I would rather fight the Tarrasque than wish for a new pair of socks.

You always hear people say that playing sports builds character and prepares children for life. While this may be true to a point, nothing prepares our sons and daughters for the spiked pits and conning NPC's of life like D&D.