Friday, June 4, 2010

Da Daddada Dadda Dadda Da

That title's my ode to the Blackhawks. I've no idea how to spell that little ditty, but I'm hoping the best for them as some Chicago team has got to win something some time, as per that law of averages I've heard about. I wouldn't know for sure, because as a Cubs fan, the averages never seem to turn out the way I think they will. I've said before, I stink at math.

So I feel I've been away from this page for too long and, Chicago sports fan-dom aside, my ire has built up beyond capacity. Where to begin? A tasting menu, should do it:

For those who are concerned with privacy and Facebook, I have this: you are idiots. Facebook is on the internet. The internet is a global publishing device. It's a place where you've agreed to be public, not private. If you are trying to be private, don't blast your inane interests and fuzzy photos and unnecessary diatribes disguised as blogs all over your FB page. Stop whining and get on with your glitter charms or farm animals or whatever else it is you're doing instead of being private. On second thought, maybe you should be hiding some of that stuff. Yeesh.

For the CEO of FB: you're a twit. Your successful business model, which has made you into a lauded boy-genius and a mega-millionaire, failed to include one small detail - payment. I don't know how that one got past you, but if advertisers on your site don't make money from being there, they will leave. The way to keep them there is not to make your users, their audience, leave. That's one of those if A=B and B=C then don't mess with A or B or C because they'll get together and kick your behind. Maybe you should have thought it through a bit more.

On the issue of BP and the oil spill: America, wake up, we are to blame. BP is a sideshow to our epic performance of GREED RULES. If we weren't so desperate to guzzle oil and make tons of money and have more crap than a body should know what to do with, all sold at some remote Wal-Mart that we have to constantly drive to and from, none of this would be happening. We are spend-a-holic, drive-a-holic, future-mortgaging, instant-gratification junkies. It is our fault. Our fault. Own it first, then you can fix it.

On the issue of BP and the oil spill plus Fox News: (and here I'm borrowing from my good friend Jon Stewart) GO F&*K yourself! Are you out of your cotton-picking minds? The oil spill is the result of environmentalists efforts to improve safety in drilling practices? That's funny. I thought it was a consequence of the systemic deregulation of drilling practices and the oversight carte-blanche the industry was given to monitor itself during the Bush-Cheney administration. To be clear, you employ someone as a consultant who not only espouses the 'environmentalists are to blame' theory, but also says BP is not to be trusted because it is a foreign company. Uh, seriously folks, you need to check your microphones because I think you have the perverse cousin of autotune messing with your sound - autoidiot. Microphone check? Check.

A bit further into the wild: Israel and Palestine are at it again. There's a shocker. To my Israeli friends, when you are wrong, you defeat your own cause by insisting you are right. To my Palestinian friends, seriously? You know you're standing in a puddle of gasoline - why light a cigarette? You are both looking like volitile, unstable ex-boyfriends who need to be properly diagnosed and put on a med regimen. I believe this is why we broke up in the first place.

For my beloved Barack Obama, President of the United States: not as easy as it looks, huh? Don't let that break you. You're a smart man with a good team of people behind you and a willing citizenry to support you. Now gitcher considerable butt in gear and get to that spill. I know you've been doing a lot of great stuff, and I love you for it, but being President is like being a parent, except with more diapers. You can't rest for a minute because if you do the smell will take over the house and while you're trying to clean that up your next door neighbor will start a fight over the height of the hedge between his house and Fred's next to him. You need to keep on it. Sleeping is for sissies. (By the way, the grey makes you look even sexier and I dig that you and your wife are still making time for one another and your children. Keeps you relatable.) Now get back to work!

I have more, but apparently, the bottom has not dropped out of the buying market and I have work to do. Sing it with me: Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelu oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh jah!