12/23/2007

Obstinance

Hi. I'm Or. And I'm a television junky.
I love viewing grown men bash into each other in pursuit of a ball. I'm also infatuated by any series encompassing twenty five hours of guns, grim complexions, bikinis, and Whataburger ads. And I stand up and applaud every time Rupert Murdoch (Who owns Fox, for those of you who haven't managed to hear him flaunt it) reiterates to us that Homer Simpson is overweight.
Tie in that preface and the title to this post, and our valued troops would have to be buried in a foxhole somewhere in Vietnam for an extended period of time not to figure out what this will concern.
But I'll cut you some slack, you deprived men and very occasionally women running short of supplies and scampering amok within a forest of Agent Orange and snakes. This will concern the Writer's Strike.
Quick recap.
Upon the release of that which we call DVDs, TV networks and movie production companies approached writers with a plea. They wanted to lower the cut that the writers would receive from every sale, in order to increase the chances that this new form of media would succeed. The writers agreed to this under an unspoken assumption that this was a temporary change, and that if the market were solidified their share of the pie would once again rise in proportion. This has not been the case, however. Typically, the writers will earn approximately a nickel and a penny for their parts in the production of a $20 dvd.
Another issue is the introduction of new media; namely, internet programming. The past several years have seen a massive growth in the number of shows playing their episodes on the network site shortly after the airdate. The writers receive an absolute, unspinnable, unbelievable ZERO percent of the profits from this increasingly significant source of income.
To summarize, the writers are getting the half-digested crusts of the DVD sale pie, while failing to even sniff the scent of freshly baked apple delight emanating from 'New Media'.
The writers, obviously decided that something had to be done. For the last several months, all members of the Writers' Guild of America have refused to provide scripts for the people who provide their Cheese Balls and Red Bull. A lot of them have been laid off after not showing up for prolonged periods of time.
The last time a strike like this occured was 1988. Writing was locked down for 22 weeks, and it cost the industry 500 million dollars.
If this strike continues for a period of time remotely reminiscent to that one, we would be staring a far larger loss in the seamy and unpleasant underbelly.
Why is this discussion worthy of time that could be spent watching the Green Bay Packers and their incredibly irritating fans humiliated on national television? Because it has gone on too damn long.
Let's be reasonable, people. The Writers want to be reimbursed like everyone concedes they should be. Everyone besides the networks. The networks just want to come out of the fall and winter without losing billions. The movie producers are sighing in relief about the next Superman mess laying in a state of perpetual stasis. But let's disregard them.
There's no logical reason that this thing should have extended as far as it has. Networks, you're being petty. Writers, it would help your case to write a lot of this stuff in advance. Don't present it to your producers; in fact, keep the stuff under lock and key. Spoilers suck. But letting the CEOs know that upon reaching a settlement the return of programming could be expedited might allow you to gain negotiating headway. Movie producers, you... just keep busy assuring that nothing gets by involving the aforementioned Caped Crusader, nor the words 'American' and "pie' used in conjunction without 'Apple' in the middle.
Get this done, people. For everyone's benefit.
And now I will do my part to thank you for reading my empassioned , humor-deprived, lecture-esque piece. Presenting the genius of jibjab.com.

12/14/2007

Our education system is afflicted, its creators retarded.

Merry friday, readers. I come to you today disturbed, frightened, and generally pissed off about the state of high school and collegiate instruction in this great land.
There are some things for which we must make a stand. We will never accept futbol (entirety of globe), for example. Or crepes (France), or attitudes genuinely compassionate about the unintelligent and barely sentient, yet murderously and depravedly elitist as far as humanity is concerned (Germany).
However, the European system is so far superior in terms of educating people that a comparison is futile. I've created a thorough scorecard for anyone who really feels like taking the trouble of looking into it.
Concentration of what people want to do with a healthy smattering of WHATEVER THEY TRULY WANT TO TAKE AS AN ELECTIVE: 1

A ridiculous assortment of anything and everything directly or indirectly unrelated to the student's career path and/or interests: 0

I have to wonder if there's some sot of hidden agenda here. What good will this senseless diversity possibly do for us? Does anyone honestly believe I will gain any benefit from taking an 'Introduction to Biology II' class during five months of my life, then doing my best to forget it ever happened?
I have found the reason for this puzzling incongruity, ladies and gentlemen. Margaret Spelling, our secretary of education, is hooked on quiz shows!
It all fits. You see, it all comes down to this. When we match up against da Jermans, or the Pacific Rimmers, or even the Dutch, can we stand a chance against them when the situation compels us to answer random questions on obscure subjects? By god, we must! Allow me to transcript a meeting between the honorable Mrs. Spelling and Rational Human Being
RHB: Hi, Margaret. The education system sucks. Nobody in this country can stand being subjected to wasted years and money.
MS: Mr. Being, your arguements are compelling and will be duly noted. However, after the obligatory three-second hiatus of deliberation, I've decided not to change a thing.
RHB: Why the hell not?
MS: Rational, you neglect to view this with a perspective on the big picture. This is a matter of great importance to our nation. It is a matter of pride, a matter of superiority, a matter of half-million dollar commercials!
RHB: Oh my god, you're a german Jew!

OK, seriously. Perhaps some things in this world are more important than Regis and his hypothetical million dollars. If I want diversity, I know what I'm looking for and I'll sign up for it. Don't force me to take two classes in each field when I will retain absolutely zero from the time I spend in that classroom other than a perpetual state of suspended animation. That's dozing.
It's time to adapt. Everyone makes mistakes. Moses hit the rock instead of speaking nicely to it. Ben Franklin didn't use a guinea pig to discover electricity. Jack Bauer trusted that crazy traitor chick who was in the first four seasons. Moses didn't see Israel, Benny felt tingly and had his wig stand up on end, and Mr. Bauer ended up with a dead wife and a great deal of inner turmoil. But then again, that fueled him to save the world several times over during the following years.
Anyway... Mrs. Spelling, quiz shows suck. I'm sorry to break the news to you, but they're all terrible. Look for video clips of Scrubs on Youtube and you will instantly be unhooked from Mr. Trabek.
And for god's sake, admit that the Euros actually won at something. Let's learn from our mistakes. And place boots in their posteriors where it matters. Like imperialistic world domination.

12/06/2007

The Promiscuous and Indignant

There's something that's bothered me for the full extent of my consciousness. It's not fat people who wallow in self-pity about their inability to change, although that would definitely be on the radar. I'm talking about those obvious gems of moral conviction and personal legitimacy who choose to dress like Body Saleswomen (I'll leave that up to interpretation) everywhere, with everyone, all the time.
I'm certain that everyone, everywhere all the time has run into this kind of girl. Her garments are always revealing to the point where you wonder if they qualify more accurately as outer garb or as conveniently placed scraps of cloth. She's disguised her face with more oils and paints than the average clown. Her hair is probably dyed several different shades of blonde.
So, you tell me. What message is our lady friend trying to send?
"Hi, I'm here to teach you about the dangers of being a licentious woman in a world where men who will take advantage of that are a dime a dozen!"
or....
"@%^& me now, Dude."
If that's your thing, so be it. You can preach life-changing philosophy advice to youngsters or act like a sexual addict, and more power to you. But this is what bothers me: The nerd nearby ogling aforementioned girl isn't quite enough of a stud. So Skinny, Bespetacled, and Curly gets this...
"Hey, pervert. What are you looking at?"
"My face is up here, jackass."
"What do you think I am, some sex object?"
"Never seen a woman up close, huh? Let's keep it that way."
Enough of the hypocrisy. I'm fine with you expressing yourself in whatever way satisfies your inner tramp. But don't act like a douchebag when someone who doesn't measure up to your standards acts in exactly the expected manner.
Just as advice, though... unless you're finding it fiscally profitable, keep the scant regalia to yourself and whoever you choose to associate with. Frankly, It's a chore communicating with someone who knows what they want, but acts offended when it occurs.

12/01/2007

Hi.

I'm Or. I'm an 18 year old student at a Dallas-area community college aspiring to someday major in Broadcast Journalism. I like puppy dogs, long walks on the beach, and pie. I won't say no to a glass of Cranberry Apple. If you've got a problem with the fact that I didn't use false bravado to insinuate that I enjoy indulging in Alcoholic beverages, go away. But be sure to buy whatever Google's Ads tell you to first.
I like sports. To a truly unhealthy extent. I'm also a great believer in short sentences punctuated by emphatic periods. No semicolons. No exclamation marks. Cold, emotionless, perfect periods.
I enjoy music. In this I am truly unique. I forgot to mention, I am better at music than you are. I'd add that to my profile, but seeing as nobody likes glorious, expressive, ear-candy I'll keep it to those devoted enough to read the posts and keep the irrelevant info out.
I'm not emo. I'm not retarded. And I'm good enough a communicator that I don't feel it necessary for every fifth word on a rigid cycle to be an expletive. Here's your daily quota: Damn. You're on the internet, for god's sake. If you're desperate for profanity you don't have far to look.
So, anyway... have a nice life.