Giving Thanks Like There's No Tomorrow

     This is a busy week for everyone, myself included, so perhaps we should just get to it. Most of us have work for at least part of the week, and there is (if you're lucky) some kind of gathering or another with friends and\or family happening as well. Or, failing that, perhaps a bottle of wine, a warm blanket, and your favorite television and movie streaming service. So really, I don't intend to keep you long. Of course, I rarely do, but then I get myself caught up in tangents (like this one) and then, before you know it, an entire introduction is written and I haven't even mentioned yet that I intend to talk about how Thanksgiving is quickly being turned from a meaningful Holiday into the biggest time of year for people to be coerced into buying a bunch of heavily discounted stuff.
     Now don't get me wrong, friends and neighbors, I like stuff, and have no shortage of it. I've got books, I've got a desk painted to look like the Gotham City skyline (go on, laugh, but your jaw would drop if you saw it, and that I promise), I've got small plastic disks that when put into the proper receptacle are capable of playing entire movies in 3D. I also have said proper receptacle, and it additionally serves as a typewriter, file cabinet, television, and digital portal to the entire rest of the world.
     Believe me, I've got the stuff.
     What I don't have is the desire to get more of it by literally stepping on and over other people like I'm in some Clockwork Orange Price is Right, even if it is way cheaper than normal.
     When I was a child, I was told by a person whom I then believed (and in many ways, still believe) to be the wisest person in my world that Thanksgiving was one of the only holidays that had a truly holy origin, because it was created solely to give thanks to a chosen deity for allowing most of a people to survive. Other holidays, which I will not identify, were just mutations of pagan festivals that had been taken over in order to further promote religious conversion.
     By the way, a lot of those pagan festivals seem like way more fun, and I bet not one person sang "Santa Baby." But that's a different issue.
     Take another quick look at what Thanksgiving was originally about, just to get us back on track and not thinking about the fun of city wide pagan feasts and orgies and how much more fun that would be than all the silly pointless stuff we get have to-
      Hang on, I said we're not thinking about that. Okay, back on track, we're all busy adults here, and so on. Thanksgiving started out as a group of people giving thanks to their deities for not allowing all of them to die over the harsh and unforgiving winter. They didn't even all get to live, and still believed in being thankful for and sharing what they had. Yes, I understand that this feeling of brotherly love did not last, especially for the American Indian, but that's what makes the day itself so important. Letting go of the all consuming desire for more, and taking just a day to be grateful for what one has.
     Even for those of us who are not of a religious bent, gratitude for the better aspects of one's existence is an excellent notion to keep in one's head.
     Another thing I don't have, aside from a segue, is the desire to see anyone forced to work on Thanksgiving under the threat of being fired, because this holiday, as I may have vaguely discussed, is about being thankful for what you have, not being threatened with the loss of it.
     Look, I know none of this (except perhaps the list of junk I own and if I'm lucky one or two of the jokes) is new to anyone. We know the deal, and I have yet to meet anyone who is happy that more retail places are going to be open on Thanksgiving.  I also know that I can't change it, no matter how much I complain or vow to not visit any of them myself. I can't do anything about it, not really.
     But We can. How crazy would that be, if We -even a good sized number of Us- decided not to allow ourselves to be pulled into the madness that is turning this holiday of gratitude into a celebration of insatiability? We could get back some of our dignity as consumers, and perhaps even decide not to die over televisions and video game consoles.
     Remember that? People die at this thing. They die. At a sale. Who wants to die like that? Wouldn't you rather die in... you know what? I'm having a hard time picking a place, because every place seems like a better place to die in than a Wal-Mart.
     I know it's too late for Christmas, and Independence day has largely been taken over by car and hot dog manufacturers, and St. Valentines Day has been a joke since time out of mind, but I think We can still reclaim Thanksgiving. It would be so easy, too! Each one of Us would only have to do -literally- the least we could do, which is nothing. Not even leave the house. Stay home. Do nothing, Spend no money. We could totally do nothing, if we really tried, I bet. Not that I really expect it (someone's gotta get me that Roomba, after all.)
     I sure would be grateful though.
-John

Feminism... Oh, boy.

     There is a word, or perhaps a concept, or perhaps even a philosophy, that has been weighing on my mind more so than usual these last few weeks. For reasons that will hopefully become apparent as I explain them, I was going to keep it to myself, and instead let the fine folks at JohnCo. tell you all about their latest product (a smartphone app that erases your contact information from other people's phones.) Then, a recently made but respected acquaintance brought something to my attention that has forced me to alter this decision and do something that could very well come back to haunt me if I screw it up. It could do so immediately, and severely, and I don't mind telling you, it got me worried.
     Then I remembered that I've managed to get away with discussing controversial topics in the past, like how terrible cats and mayonnaise are, and how people shouldn't block doorways when having conversations, and how no one wants to hear about anyone else's god(s), so why not go ahead and make the same terrible mistake so many men have made before, and talk about feminism?
     Just typing that, by the way, before anyone else has even read it, made me feel like all the men I know just felt their butts clench up without knowing why. Unclench, fellas, and have a little more faith in me than I do.
     It is a feeling I can understand though, which is why I was going to keep my mouth shut (or fingers still, as it were) at first. I've never labeled myself as a feminist, really, preferring instead to aim for being an egalitarian, by which I mean that it is okay to make fun of everyone. Everyone should be made fun of a little. It's good for you. People make fun of me all the time, and just look at how happy and well-adjusted I am. You can tell by the way I complain about trivial things as though anyone listened or cared or agreed with me.
     So I was going to leave it alone, because it didn't really seem like a place I should go. Until two things happened, which I will discuss in reverse chronological order.
     First and most recently, I was made aware by the aforementioned recently acquired acquaintance whose name I have not obtained permission to print that Time magazine included the word 'feminist' in a list of words to be potentially banned. Their reason for doing so? Glad you asked:
                                          You have nothing against feminism itself, but when did it become a thing that every celebrity had to state their position on whether this word applies to them, like some politician declaring a party? Let's stick to the issues and quit throwing this label around like ticker tape at a Susan B. Anthony parade.
   
     First off, Time magazine, don't try and include me by using the word 'you' to start this thing. I neither need nor want you to tell me what I do or don't have against anything. Believe me, I am more than capable of providing my own diatribes against whatever I see fit. On that, you may bank. Further, celebrities stating their opinions has been a thing ever since a bunch of idiots (everyone) decided they were worth listening to, and one publication even started adorning some of them with lofty title, "Person (formerly Man) of the year." Stupid, I know, but it happened. The one thing celebrities have in common with everyone else is that they often say what they think.The fact that they are not significantly smarter than the people who put stock in their opinions is not the fault of the words they use. Also, by the way, there all kinds of things going on all over the world that evince how much of an issue the things discussed by feminism are. Limiting the words allowed to be used in a discussion puts limits on the discussion itself.
     Also on this list are the words 'bae,' which is not a word, and 'literally,' which the magazine proposes banning because people insist on using it wrong.
     Might I suggest that instead of banning words, we try to educate people on the proper use of them? I know an amenable saint I can put you in touch with, if you're interested. I should warn you though; he is considerably less forgiving than I am.
     The other thing, the thing that really weighed on my mind, happend a few weeks ago, and I'm sure most of you have heard about it already. It starts with a woman by the name of Mariam Al Mansouri, who is -check this out- the first female pilot for the United Arab Emirates Air Force. Not only that, but she recently led an airstrike against ISIS in Syria.
     This story, as told (I can't bring myself to use the word 'reported') by Fox News, began with Kimberly Guilfoyle talking about how glad she was that a woman was kicking the collective tail of ISIS. This was fair. It was also immediately undercut by two other television personalities (also can't use the words 'journalists' or 'reporters') by the names of Greg Gutfield and Eric Bolling. Gutfield responded to this story with "Problem is, after she bombed it, she couldn't park it." This was followed with Bolling's genius comment, "Would that be considered boobs on the ground or no?"
     Get it? Because women are bad at driving, and also have boobs!
     Don't get me wrong; boobs can be funny, same as butts and farts and burps, though none of them are anywhere near as funny as the penis. Just look at all the euphemisms for it, my personal favorite being 'Long Tom.'
     The thing here is that this is a human being who did something that requires a level of bravery not many people have, who put her life at some level of risk to do all the the things your network is constantly defining as patriotic and deserving of respect. But this human being has, as you so eloquently put it, "boobs," so you mocked her.
     What a couple of Long Toms.
     That, by the way, is a solid joke, with a setup and a punchline, and it mocks you, the two poorly behaved people, not your genders. You boobs.
     And as far the reference to her driving goes, let me tell you something, friends and neighbors. I spend a lot -A LOT- of time driving, and the simple truth is that everyone -and that includes everyone- is a much worse driver than they believe themselves to be (except me), and I've seen more bad parking jobs by men in trucks with unnecessarily large tires than any other kind of driver. Also, Prius drivers are pretty much all terrible, gender regardless.
     Oh, and before I wrap this up, remember that other story, where women were complaining about being harassed on the street, and some of these personalities - of both genders, by the way- responded by saying it was a compliment? Well, please feel free to take as a compliment the following statement:
     You are disgusting, and the fraudulence of your smiles is matched only by the barrennes that lives inside you. Insert whistle here.
     All in all, the reason I spoke (wrote?) up is because each of these things seems to be expressing a problem with the notion that feminism still exists, and I think they should instead be addressing the problem that it still needs to.
     In closing, I would like to add that I am fortunate to count a great number of strong, intelligent, funny, and when necessary fierce women of all ages as both relatives and friends, and offer this piece not as some utterly unnecessary and ill advised attempt at defense or protection or apology on behalf of men everyhwere, which would be an insult to all involved. It is instead hoped that this will be taken for what it is, merely an attempted contribution toward the goal of treating everyone as an equal, so I can make fun of all of us properly.
     Also, if I have gotten it wrong, don't worry. Those strong, fierce members of family and social circle will let me know all about it.
-John

Let's do something different... or at least the same as it used to be.

     As many of you -or so I'd like to imagine- noticed, it has once again been a while since last I arranged a selection of somewhat carefully chosen words to properly convey some not at all requested opinion of mine. This is because I have been thinking about the way we do things here, talking about the news and making fun of it and so on. I had a lengthy and rather verbose meeting with St. John The Amenable (patron saint of "Must you persist?") and our proud sponsor, JohnCo. (motto: We just want you to be better than you are!) and we have come to an agreement, which is as follows:
     There is, at this moment, an overabundance of news sources, and also plenty of sources one can go to see those sources mocked. This stuff is already on everyone's TV screen, computer monitor, and phone as it is, and one more, even if it's mine, isn't really what anyone needs. So, while I will still retain the services of St. John, and JohnCo. will continue to lend it's support, I'm going to leave the news stuff alone for a little while, and focus more on what brought me to this dance in the first place, which is, well, things like this:
     Can we please stop making everything bacon themed already? Look, I like bacon, okay? As a breakfast food, it goes with pretty much every other breakfast food. Put it on a burger? Excellent. Pizza? Oh, yes. Crumble it up into bits and mix it into a salad? Stop talking about it and get it done, will you?!
     Those things are all great, no doubt about it, and every red-blooded, problem solving American knows it. The problem is that bacon has, for whatever reason, been sucked up by our great and unrelenting need for some stupid trend we can all involve ourselves in so we can come together in our pretentiously cutesy little way. Like we did with mustaches. And irony.
     And it all leads to ruin, people, don't you see? Look at ranch dressing.
     Juuuuuuuuussst look at it.
     A lot of you may remember a time when ranch was not used on french fries instead of ketchup. A time when this terrible abomination was considered merely a salad dressing for people who don't like salad. Then, sometime in the nineties, I think, everything changed. Ranch was everywhere. And we all know how that ended, don't we? Don't we? Let me tell you how it ended; let me tell you what you did.
     It ended with me not being able to get gravy for my chicken strips, that's how it ended! Let me tell you, friends and neighbors, there was a time when I could walk into a restaurant and order myself a meal of chicken strips, or tenders, or fingers, secure in the knowledge that on that plate, or in that plastic basket, along with my deep fried strips of chicken and a pile of french fries, would be a small bowl or plastic container of white cream gravy, the one true and perfect dip for any chicken strip.
     Now? Oh no, sonny boy, you've got to ask for that, and there's a good chance they won't even have it, but sure as the book is better than the movie, you'll get either ranch dressing, that ridiculous and useless (USE! LESS! IT HAS NO USE!) excuse for a condiment known as honey mustard, or some attack on barbecue sauce from a bottle that tastes like ketchup and Red Vines.
     All because of what you (and I mean it when I say 'you', because for once, I had nothing to do with this) did with ranch dressing! And don't you, even for a minute, try and tell me something equally terrible won't happen with happen with bacon, because it will. We already have bacon flavored vodka, whipped cream, mayonnaise, and toothpaste. There are dresses and scarves and wallets and purses and who knows what else made to look as though they're made out of bacon. The Ranch plague never even made it this far, and it still killed something beautiful. The possibilities of terror here are unimaginable.
     Still unconvinced, are you? Then you try explaining to me how the flavors of maple and bacon have been combined and stuffed into a perfectly innocent doughnut without making it sound as though it is the End of Days. Don't tell me it tastes good, either. That's not food you're tasting, it's collective silliness. And it kills.
   It's a lot like what we did to vampires, a once proud monster of literature and film, now reduced to just being a plot device plugged by hack writers into whatever garbage thing they want. There aren't even any rules to it anymore, like, for example, zombies. Zombies can be fast, they can be slow. It can be a disease, it can be a curse, it can be caused by toxic chemicals. But the general rules still usually apply. They were once living people, they rose from the dead, their bite turns people into zombies, and killing the brain generally takes care of them.
     Not so for vampires, not anymore. They just are whatever people want them to be. Need them to function in the sunlight, once fatal to them? Just make it so they shine like a disco ball instead. Garlic and crosses, once powerful repellents? Nah, forget it. How would they coo sweet sounding but meaningless words to each other over pasta while nothing that could be mistaken for a story happens ever? Or maybe there is a story, but it's just a trashy and unoriginal love story? Make one of those trashy lovers a vampire. Who cares? All the rules are gone, which means people don't write vampire stories anymore, they just write whatever they want and throw vampires into it in the hopes that it will distract people from realizing how terrible and pointless the characters and plot are.
     The one red thread that many of these stories have in common is that vampires are especially prone to falling love with - or at least becoming sexually attracted to- their food. Which is all kinds of creepy, but somehow has managed to capture the libido of many a reader or viewer. This I simply cannot condone, anymore than I could condone a person trying to have sex with a bucket of fried chicken. That is just not what one does with a bucket of  fried chicken. The burns alone are reason enough, really.
     Now, don't get me wrong. I understand the need for our culture to continuously make things extremely popular for a period of time before forgetting about it completely. It's largely what fuels our economy. I know that, just as well as I know that shifting to a more worthwhile economy, one founded on actually making useful and necessary things is hard and thus unlikely. I just think that, eventually, these things need to be released from the spotlight before they die off due to our smothering obsession with them, like Beanie Babies, or the popularity of Meg Ryan. They need to be allowed to return to what they were originally meant to be.
     Thus, I say it's time we moved on to whatever the next thing is going to be, because not only can I not wait to see teenagers and lonely adults fall in love with, say, a mummy who can fly, or an abominable snowman that can hold it's breath for ten years at a time, thus permitting it to be with its one true mermaid love that is decades younger than the snowman, but also because I really don't want to lose bacon. Oh, and ranch dressing is the worst.
     The. Worst.
-John