A Rant Too Far, Or: A Skeptic's Manifesto
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simontanzman

Are you guys ready?  I’ve been saving this rant for awhile.  Finally I got the perfect catalyst, the perfect excuse to uncork it.  If you aren’t a fan of my admittedly excessive ranting and raving, I advise you to skip this one.  It's long.  Ye be warned.

I am a skeptic.  It takes a lot to convince me of a claim, especially extraordinary ones.  It is for this reason that I don’t believe in any new-age bullshit, any pseudo-science, any alternative medicine, any extraterrestrial visitations, any creationist lies* and I most certainly don’t believe in any conspiracy theories.

*A category which includes everything any creationist ever says.  Seriously guys, you are just embarrassing yourselves at this point.

 

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A Sisyphean Ordeal Goes Off the Rails #14: Peter Pan
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simontanzman

This movie divided me against myself.  There was the logical, older part of my mindspace that was rather unimpressed by the film.  In my mental cabinet meetings*, Older Simon was seen yawning ostentatiously during the viewing.  But another facet, Younger Simon, the Simon who didn’t grow up as it were, loved the flick.  Their debates have deadlocked the Simonian Senate, preventing me from writing my normal type of review.  Thus, in the grand tradition of Socrates, I present my summary of Peter Pan as a Simonic Dialogue.    

*I always picture my mind as operating like the US government.  There is “me” as the entrenched, incumbent president.  The various facets of my personality are my cabinet.  My various organ groups and their attendant body functions are like political parties.  At any one time, one of them might have a majority.  For example, right now the Take a Shit Party** is ascendant.  They are demanding immediate action to reduce the trade imbalance between my bowels and the toilet.  However, history shows that they lack staying power; after they achieve their policies they tend to flame out at the next midterm.  In fact, analysts are already predicting big gains for the Stuff Face With Pizza Party in the elections later this afternoon.      

**Their mascot is a donkey

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Goes to Show You Never Can Tell
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simontanzman

Well, my Tuesday class has come and gone.  You know, the class that I’ve been bitching about for weeks now.  The class that makes me question whether I even want to do this job.  The class of such surpassing stupidity that I had to scream at Leslie to fix it or else.  You know this class?  Have you heard me mention it?  Well I just had another one.  And Zeus Almighty, that class was…it was…REALLY FUCKING GOOD!!!

 

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Don't Mess With Humans
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simontanzman

What’s the most impressive thing ever done by the human race?  Think about that question for a second.  Try and come up with an answer.  I’ll wait.

 

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Do Implied Copywrites Work Backwards?
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simontanzman

I just got finished with maybe the most bizarre reading experience of my life.  The book is called Tides of War by Steven Pressfield.  But frankly, I think that Steven Pressfield is a dirty rotten liar.  He didn’t write the book.  I did.  I’m not kidding.  But maybe I should explain.

 

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Like Staring Down a Freight Train
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simontanzman
Ugh, here I sit.  Tuesday is almost upon us.  The worst day of my week.  The day of single combat against a room full of asshole six-year-olds.  Wait, single combat you say?  But I thought you had a TA, Tina, who you specifically cited as the only thing between these classes and utter disaster.  Well, yeah, I did have Tina.  But that was so three days ago.  Tina quit.  Now, she said it was because here teaching schedule was interfering with these night classes she was taking*, but I am sure that her weekly two hours of foolishly worthless effort was a contributory factor.

*She wants to be an investor or something

I sent an email to Leslie about the situation.  Tina quitting was the last straw.  I begged her to do something.  I basically flat-out said that I cannot teach this class as currently constituted.  I heard nothing back for two days.  Then, yesterday, I texted Leslie and just asked her nicely if she had gotten my email.  Just a friendly reminder.  And do you know what she said?  Do you know what she fucking said?  She said "sorry, I will not be able to check my email until Tuesday morning."  RE-E-E-EALLY?  Not until Tuesday morning?  Why...that would be when my next class with the hellspawn is!  It's almost like...I don't know, like she read the email and doesn't want to do anything about it, so she told me a bald-faced lie to get me off her back.  But that must just be paranoia.  There's no way she would do that.

Right? 

I Gotta Be Me Too
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simontanzman

On October 9th, the lovely Mrs. J9 Kovac did a post where she admitted that she actually liked Paul McCartney more than John Lennon*.  Janine was using it to make some point about happiness, or some such fiddle-faddle.  That’s not what interests me.  But I did quite like the idea of admitting something interesting/funny.  So here goes: I have always liked pro wrestling, unironically, unequivocally, and hopefully from now on, unashamedly.

*She’s right, by the way.  It’s science.  Here's the link to her entry: http://j9kovac.livejournal.com/8318.html 

 

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The best There Is, The Best There Was, The Best There Ever Will Be
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simontanzman

I was going to write about LeBron James.  I was going to write about the Miami Heat.  I had all sorts of thoughts about how LeBron, Dwyane, and Chris Bosh* uniting on one team was cheating, and how if they won 72 games it wouldn’t count**.  But every time I tried to write about them, I ended up writing about someone else.  Someone tangentially related, in the sense that Zeus is tangentially related to everything that happens on Earth.  Yes my friends, I’m talking about The Colossus of Basketball, the Towering Obelisk of Ownage, His Airness, Michael Jordan.

*Poor Chris Bosh.  Even if he was famous-er, he still couldn’t be a single name.  “Chris” just isn’t a unique enough name to justify mononymity.  In fact, the only person with a common first name to ever become mononymous is…but we’ll get there ever so shortly

**See my post from May 2nd for my discussion of my utter insanity about the Bulls and 72 wins.

 

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A Few Small Matters
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simontanzman
Nothing fancy here.  I just wanted to give a shout out the Mighty Twosome, The Two Titans of Awesome, my Mom and Dad.  I checked my bank account and saw that they transferred some money to help me pay for my Chinese lessons.  They did this last year as well.  This is a big help to me, so, thanks Mom!  Thanks Dad!  I really do appreciate it.

Also, Dad pointed something out to me yesterday which is so cool that I have to pass it along.  A few days ago I did a post called "The Wisdom of Crowds."  In it I discussed a hilarious Chinese ritual named "Yan Bao Jian Cao."  Well, if you google that phrase, my entry is the 7th result that shows up!  Try it today! 

And Dad, I don't think I could write the Wikipedia entry on the subject.  Wikipedia requires its entries to be scrupulously non-biased, and I don't think I'm capable of writing about Yan Bao Jian Cao without sneaking in some snide remarks.

The More You Fart The Better You Feel...
mao
simontanzman

I need to step into the confessional booth for a minute here.  I’ve got a huge burden on my conscience.  Hmmm, I’ve never done this before.  Am I supposed to pray first?  Do the Hail Mary’s come before or after the confession?  Ah fuck it, I’ll just say it: today I yelled at a kid for making fart noises in class.

 

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