Bullshit hunting at the Wisconsin State Fair

After 5 years or so of visiting Wisconsin regularly, I finally got to experience the Wisconsin State Fair for the first time this week. I was hoping to lift an official paragraph from the State Fair's website that would explain to the uninitiated what it's all about, but there was none to be found. Hopefully this Q&A lifted from the FAQ page will accurately set the tone.

"Will there be food on a stick? 

  Yes, our vendors will supply a delicious variety of your favorite foods on a stick. For a list of foods on a stick, please visit our Food tab" [Note: This is a long ass list]

For the sake of expediency, let's just call it a ten-day long celebration of Wisconsin's food and culture presented in a carnival / street-festival / outdoor market hybrid. With concerts. And livestock.

I'm getting bogged down in details here, but the point is, it's a big deal (attendance is regularly over 800,000 each year), and there's stuff for sale there, so I knew that there'd be plenty of woo on sale.

It didn't take too much wandering around in the Expo Center before I hit paydirt:

Extreme Balance Bands!

Extreme Balance Bands! Awesome example of total bullshit, right there. These bands are a ripoff of the original Power Balance Bands from an Australian company who got into a spot of bother with the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission for claims made bout their snake oil, and they've since had to scrap their stock, cease the misleading marketing, and reimburse customers who felt ripped off.

Can't touch your toes? It's a balance issue that this accessory can remedy!

I've encountered and documented their cousins in Limerick City already, so I won't go into the tired reasons as to why the claims are nonsense, but I wanted to share the woo-porn.


Where these scammers have shown some originality, however, is the sports watch accessory, which according to the front of the package is a "Tourmaline power minus ion Healthy Sports Watch", so while you're getting a big fat load heaping of codswallop, you're at least getting a timepiece.

If you have a rigorous scientific mind, you might want to view the actual specifications though, so you'll be glad to hear that the back of the box boasts "1 ATM Water Resistanee", "Minus Ion(above 1900ions/cc), Far Infrared Ray (above 90%)", and of course, the "HQ silicone rubber is no harm to skin". [All of these typos are accurate, but read the back of the box yourself if you think it'll help to read this tripe in context:]

Science!

I asked one of the ladies shilling these products for the cost - she started by telling me that they sell in malls for up to $75 (I failed to suppress my scoff), but they were selling them for $20, and would throw in the watch for a few dollars more. If the watch keeps time okay, it's probably not an obscene price, but judging by the disposition of the salesgirls, and the decidedly unimpressed looking member of the public testing out the band, I think they were having a tough time flogging their wares. Taking this into consideration, I decided that toying with them by asking awkward questions about research and scientific concepts they had zero interest in seemed like a waste of time.

Since I was under serious time constraints, I zig-zagged through the 200,000sq ft.  Expo Center at random looking for more woo (passing only one table giving out free-samples, sadly), hoping to find some more nonsense to document. It rankled me that the stalls set up for massages were big, red, mega-Chinesey affairs, with Chinese lettering surrounding the word 'Acupressure'. Paying money to have a wizened old Asian person rub my shoulders is magical enough without all the 'ancient-wisdom' mumbo-jumbo.

As I pushed my way through the throng of people, choosing directions on instinct alone, I turned to my girlfriend and proclaimed: "I know there's more bullshit in here. I can smell it. And I'm going to find it if it's the last thing I do."

TO BE CONTINUED...

Flyer Foul-Ups, and other distractions

For some reason, having a phone on me at all times just means I end up taking pictures of weird stuff, rarely sharing it with anyone unless I can find a suitable occasion.

I've designed a few flyers in my day. Not particularly good ones mind, but I always endeavour to get the basics right - I may not have the flashiest artwork, but at least I'm consistent. Unlike this flyer advertising additional downloadable content for Mafia II on the PS3:

Which is it, flyer? The 'Made Man' or 'Man Made' pack? While both are phrases used in the English language, it puzzles me that something this obvious slipped through.

I'll get to the next flyer after I clear out some more weird stuff from my phone:

On the impulse buy rack at a grocery store in the US: a "Kid-Pleasing" TV Series. How do you please kids? Suggestive tail pulling, naturally

They have ORANGE Cadbury's Creme Eggs in the US. Can somebody get me a freaking green card already?

Can't afford Penguin bars but refuse to buy a non-aquatic themed equivalent? Seal bars are available at your local Lidl to fill this gap in the market

Yanks covers their cars in moronic Jesus-propaganda to win good graces. "Elect Jesus"? "Jesus Christ - He's the Real King" in Coca-Cola font? Who comes up with this crap and sells it for $9.99? And how can I get on this bandwagon?

Okay, back on topic - the other flyer I want to share is from Harvey Norman. Remember Harvey Norman? Here's a hint - they're conniving, bait'n'switching sons-a-bitches. Let's have a look at their latest, 'Hardly Normal' flyer:

Holy balls! A Nintendo 3DS for €129! I'll be there right away! Hang on a tick - the picture is of the Nintendo 3DS, but the accompanying text (and logo) reads Nintendo DSi Console. This is an obscene screw up, and when part of your business practices involves advertising deals in print that aren't available in store, you don't get the benefit of the doubt on this one, Norman. From now on, I'm referring to such promotional material from your company as 'liars'. Heh-heh.

And thus concludes today's lesson on blogging for people with dull lives. Don't have anything interesting to say? Post some pictures and make some words about them!

A Bible-thumper who wants your money?

It always troubles me deeply to see how much money there is in propagating Biblically-informed right-wing twaddle to racist cretins. It's mesmerizing watching Glenn Beck in front of his chalk-board, talking about how atheism leads to Nazism, socialism, and Universal Healthcare, then tying it into an explanation of how Obama hates white people. Ann Coulter shills her bestselling books portraying the American right-wing as jews in Nazi Germany, trying to rally against the oppressive movements of gay-rights, abortion-rights, and rights for anybody other than white anglo-saxon christians. There's money in scaring comfortable fat white people.

Brannon Howse
Today's villain.

Every now and again, out of sheer boredom, I'll turn on the 'Christian channel' at my girlfriend's house to see how long it takes for my hackles to be raised. Venturing into the heart of the echo-chamber isn't a particularly comfortable experience, but I get to learn about a whole new cadre of assholes. Just the other day, I learnt about the existence of Brannon Howse. He hosts 'Worldview Weekend Rallies' - a traveling roadshow broadcast on Christian TV channels, in which he talks about the evils of liberalism and pluralism, and praises Jesus and capitalism. Think of a low-rent Glenn Beck and you're halfway there.

I watched a few minutes of his programme - it flogs the usual canards of fundamentalist nonsense with a forced sense of urgency and a ham-fisted attempt at fitting red herrings to biblical prophesy on the end-times. I can't recall the exact quotes, but the gist of it was 'educated people want to turn your child into a hedonistic pervert'. I'll mine from the sizzle-reel posted on his website:

"Philosophy 101 should be called Atheism 101 - Religion 101 should be Religious Pluralism 101. Biology 101 is more like Evolution 101!"

Worlds like 'pluralism' and 'globalism' are dirty words to Howse and his followers, who can also tune into his talk-shows on Christian radio. Let's look at some choice topics covered in these shows:

• Brannon reveals Bible verses that God will cause someone to die for their continued rebellion. [02/03/11].

• How unions are and the communists work together, how Muslims and Marxists work together and why the National Education Association is run by people that do not carry about [sic] the teachers or children. [22/02/11]

• If Obama sees that he is not going to be re-elected as President of the United States of America will he and his team do everything within their power to destroy America and thus really accomplish what has been their goal since taking office? [20/10/10] 

• Topic: Obama's Reeducation For Social Change. Understand The Goals of Obama's Radical, Anti-Christian, Socialist, Feminist, Pro-Homosexual Public Service. [19/11/10]

• Brannon also discuss [sic] how America is becoming a third world country with the increase in illegal aliens that are taking jobs from Americans, increasing crime, our nation's debt and bringing disease to our country.

The word 'environmentalism' appears 32 times on the archive page, and only six times is it not preceded by the word 'radical'. 'Obama' appears 615 times.

I don't think I need to delve any further into his level of discourse - the guy is an asshole, using this religious soapbox to hijack his audience's reasoning, and to coax money from fools. Let's have a look at what's on offer at his online store:

Tat. Brought to you by America

His website pimps his e-books on the front page and enthuses that "The Worldview Weekend E-Gift Card makes a perfect gift!" His radio shows are free for 14 days, after which the price jumps up to $5 each. Devotional music performed by Mr. Howse is available for $0.99 a track. An atrociously badly put together PC Game costs $19.99, which is apparently marked down from the 'standard price' of $24.95. (Back of the box features include "Sound effects")

I'll assume that these are not indicative of the '3D graphics' boasted on the game-cover

A sister organisation called 'Worldview Weekend Foundation' solicits donations to pay for the rallies (sneakily making 'weekly donation' the default option). To inspire urgency they're called 'Code Blue Rallies' (likely because their benefactors are acquainted with cardiac arrest themselves), and have posted articles like "Losing it in College" and "The Storm before the Bigger Storm" on the frontpage.

Sure, I scoff at these products, but they clearly hold some value to a stupider person, so I can't entirely begrudge Brannon for earning a crust filling this niche. Where things get really sinister is the 'free' offering posted on the front page:

The Truth about Money? A free Educational CD & DVD on Money Truth? It's got Brannon Howse's face on the front - if you trust him with on his religious and your political advice, why not money?

So what is the Truth about money? The truth is you need to buy gold, Jerry! GOLD!

Why yes, that is Obama riding a paper-airplane made out of a US dollar. He's about to crash it, you see.

I'm not particularly au-fait with investing, but everything I've heard from people in the know leads me to believe that it's a terrible investment for all kinds of reasons. That said, tinfoil hat wearing troglodytes who fear everything they've worked for will be taken away by that Kenyan-born moslem in the white house (read: conservative nutjobs) think that filling their nuke-shelters with gold will insure against financial apocalypse.

The info-pack is from a company called Swiss America, who must be giving Howse a commission on every sucker he sends their way, given his commitment to the schtick. A special hour-long talk with Michael Weiner of Swiss America is available for free on the website, and Howse also incorporates pimping gold into regular programming on his radio show: "Utah considers return to gold, silver coins and alternative currency along with 11 other states" [04/03/11]. I think this exemplifies the level of cynicism we're dealing with here.

This subject exhausts me. Every now and again I try to convince myself that people so aggressively against the forces of progressivism are the bitter old pensioners who will throw money at hucksters with backwards, racist opinions until they all die off and the rest of the sane world won't have to put up with any more of the dishonest and lazy rhetoric that pays the bills for people like Beck and Howse. There's money in taking advantage of people who can't think for themselves, which means that people who try to do the thinking for you will continue to pop up on our radars.

tl;dr version: Conservative religious people are stupid and are paying people to say things they want to hear. Stupid free-market.

"Only In America"

I have a habit of taking pictures of peculiar things that I happen across in my everyday life. Sometimes they get used on the blog, sometimes they sit on the computer for months until I decide to do a photo-dump.

What I'm posting now are some oddities encountered whilst on (United States of) American soil, in no particular order at all.

Commencing dump...

Sign reads "Experience Church Online!" Man - that exclamation point almost caught me out. 

Gum Tree at Grand Canyon. Someone put their gum on it, then dozens followed suit. Gross. But kinda neat.

Bear-proof bins at the Grand Canyon

Socializing with Sully: Moistening those dry-balls [Part 2]

In my last post, I modestly put forward that most young people in Ireland engage in an activity that is selfish and dull, and suggested that without intoxication, standing around in a loud room not talking to  your friends isn't a particularly good time.

I'm not quite sure how to start a post following up on such assertions, especially when I've never partaken in these activities myself. As a teetotaller, I feel some trepidation in dumping on the preferred Irish pastime, but I'm hoping that rather than a mere dismissal that I'm 'missing the point', someone will elucidate why I'm missing the point. Anyhow, on with the show.

I lived in Pittsburgh for a glorious, eye-opening year. My friends and I were under the legal drinking age (21 years of age still seems nutty), but that didn't stop them from consuming alcohol - it just meant that it typically wasn't in public.

"This penis-straw may be zany, but I assure you, I'm dreadfully boring"

Most evenings involving alcohol were spent hanging out in the nicest apartment available, swapping stories, playing board games, or maybe having a game of charades. On a few occasions, the cash-strapped lot of us would go out to dinner. Talking about it now is reminding me of the reaction I had at the time after years of Irish programming: "That all sounds so lame".

It probably is lame, but I had never played charades before, and my experience of board games to date lead me to believe that they were merely a tool to lubricate interactions between distant-cousins at family-holidays while the parents drank themselves silly. How wrong I was.

Anyone waiting with bated breath (hah!) for this post to see what the 'silver bullet' to a more 'worthy' night of socializing is entitled to scoff at the suggestion, but there's more to it than "board games are a laugh" - I experienced a different approach to the consumption of alcohol: it was a complement to the evening's proceedings, and not the focus of the entire endeavour.

When you're playing board games, you generally have no choice but to talk to people - whether shouting frenzied guesses or going off topic with personal interjections, it's all 'quality time', particularly since the most exciting or embarrassing moments get brought up (in somewhat embellished form) at a future get-together. It's certainly a superior method to building a rapport with someone than getting drunk next to them.

As the token Irish member of the group, it stands to reason that yanks would be more interested in what I had to say than my fellow paddies, particularly when myriad cultural differences mean you'll never need to endure a pause in conversation ["In my country, we call what you call 'sweaters', 'jumpers'"], so maybe the difficulties I've had with enjoying the Irish way of fun are just a reflection of my lack of anything interesting to say to somebody from a similar background.

Don't think that I've mistaken the part for the whole - I've been invited to 'game nights' at various households in the States, often with people I've just met, and by the end of the night I'm joking and laughing with them as if I was what their group of friends was missing all along and they didn't realize it. Genuinely fun evenings like this drive home the point that if you're looking to loosen tongues, alcohol pales in comparison to the might of forced-human interaction.

Feeding the hungry for Jesus

Another great aspect of having a girlfriend is being able to plug into her social network, and one of the benefits of having a wider pool of people to interface with is that you may find yourself doing something you wouldn't engage in ordinarily.

A recent example of this was during a trip to Wisconsin, when Kate and I were offerred the chance to join her sister and brother-in-law in volunteering at their church-run soup kitchen. I should clarify - Kate was offerred the chance, and she volunteered my services. If I seem somewhat hesitant, I should make clear that the opportunity to do something selfless isn't one I'd agonize over, but this was a church-event, meaning I'd be helping the unfortunate in Jesus's name - as a rule, I don't donate money to charitable causes with a religious agenda, but I decided to make an exception in donating my afternoon to be a good Christian.

So after kitting myself out with a pretty sweet hat (mandatory) and a sweet fake name tag (also mandatory), I was ready for action. What kind of action? Well, to prepare for the onslaught of hungry homeless folk, I had to assist by wiping down tables and chairs with bleach-water, lugging large containers of gloppy foodstuffs around, folding cutlery and napkins together, and generally doing my best to make baby Jesus proud.

Sully is no more! Meet Gus, homeless-helper extraordinaire 

Once the preparations were done, it was time for the volunteers to get their breakfast. On the menu was stuffed pepper, pickled cucumber, day old bread, day old donuts, coffee, and fresh-baked cookies provided by Kate's sister. Before we could tackle the generous spread, it was time to say grace before meals. Damn Christians and their delayed gratification! The orator gave shout-outs to the bakeries and restaurants that donated the grub, presumably so God would know who to reward.

There were about a dozen volunteers, ranging in age from mid-twenties to mid-eighties, and as I was the youngest, most able-bodied of the group, I got lumbered with the most arduous task. I was the dishwasher, cleaning every implement, every tray, and every piece of cooking apparatus with a high-powered hose that melted through more than a couple of my plastic aprons.

Through the spray of steam and food particulate I'd throw covetous looks towards my fellow volunteers. Thomas and his task of 'Greeting'. Oh look at me, I'm a World War II veteran. Then I'd glare at Kate as she cheerfully carried out her duty of 'Corn Ladling', my envious grimace turning into an appropriately cheery smile to reflect hers when she caught my glance.

With the exception of the bread, it tasted a lot better than it looked

When I found out that I'd be cooped up in the kitchen, I wondered if I'd find it satisfying toiling for the less-fortunate without getting to directly witness their enjoyment on the frontline. It was a foolish notion - I was immediately invested in the work I was doing, and I can safely reflect on it as the most earnest two hours of physical labour I've ever engaged in. My back was hurting, and I was getting splashed with food and scalding hot water, but I wanted to be the most efficient damn dishwasher that kitchen had ever seen. During moments when  I had cleared my station and had to wait on more ware to arrive, I'd start addressing things outside of my jurisdiction (including cleaning some obviously-neglected pieces of apparatus).

The way the room was set up meant that those coming to avail of the food were filing past the open kitchen door, and many of them took it upon themselves to shout in "God bless you". After shrugging off the first few seemed a little ignorant, I took to shouting back "same to yourself."

It was a great experience, one that I'd happily repeat, but like I said, my quixotic notions about 'good' charity cause some dissonance (i.e: My moral compass takes issue with reaching out to the less fortunate so you can bolster the ranks of subscribers to your supernatural ideologies). I was able to rationalize the sweat exerted in Jesus's name as a purely selfish act arising out of biological imperatives. How so? Well, my girlfriend wanted me to help the homeless, and complying with her requests will assist in the fulfillment of my carnal urges to copulate with her, so really, I'm doing this to satisfy my evolutionary impulses, so at the end of the day, Darwin wins.

The problem with democracy

Watching this video of a 'protest' outside a Town Hall meeting in California makes me feel awfully sorry for Barack Obama, if not for the United States as a whole.



Reflecting on the collection of public, histrionic outbursts that this filmmaker has put online, it's easy to lose track of the fact that there are legitimate points to be made against Obama's proposed reform, but the sheer volume of people who have been convinced that some great evil is about to befall their nation is a mite worrying.

Much like the Irish reaction to the Lisbon Treaty, there's a great deal of false information bullshit motivating these people's vociferous denunciation of healthcare reform - many of it propagated by Fox News and the right-wing media (and indeed, some of those interviewed invoke Sean Hannity, Glen Beck & Michael Savage - the latter of whom gained notoriety for being banned from entering the United Kingdom in May this year for fostering extremism).

Some curious bits from the video:

• The quote: "God will take care of healthcare - God will take care… - The Children of Israel walked in the desert for 40 years and their sandals were not even worn out"

• The multiple 'trust Jesus' signs

• General conspiracy theory nuttery:

"They're claiming that abortion is not in the bill… But it is"
"This is a just a smokescreen"

• The dude holding up the book at 1.27 calls the book in his hands "The USS Constitution"

• "[Obama's] church was based on racism"

And the scorecard:

Hitler references: 5
Socialism references: 5 (often used in the same sentence as Hitler, oddly enough)
Communism references: 3
Fascism references: 1
Outbursts of "Theeey toook awwrrr jawbz!": Sadly, 0

Idiots say the darndest things

Whilst buying some clearance crockery at a local shop yesterday, I made the mistake of asking the girl playing cashier a fiddly question:

“I don’t have my credit card on me, but if I give you the details, can I pay that way?”

She stopped punching buttons on the register as she looked up at me and cocked her head sideways. Two seconds passed.

“Naah” she said. The deliberate button-tapping resumed.

Feeling that social mores called for it, and for the sake of making chit-chat, I offered my reason for enquiring:

“I was just over at another shop and –“
“No.”
“I’m sorry?”
“They don’t do it anywhere”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Using credit cards without having the card. I’ve never heard of it done anywhere”
“I was just over at Auto—“
“No.” She shook her head furiously as I tried to speak, and continued:
“They don’t do that anywhere”
Aghast, I looked at her incredulously. She looked down at her till for a moment, then back up at me as a thought occurred to her:
“Not even America”.

You just can’t beat that kind of rhetoric. Of course, I had just come from the shop across the road that was able to comply with my simple request without invoking the authority of other, more-progressive societies, but I wasn’t in the mood to escalate my request to a more competent member of staff.

I’d like to think that I could finish this post with some kind of “I won’t be taking my business there again” type message, but that’s not going to happen. For a total moron, she also happened to be a smokin' hottie, and at the end of the day, isn’t that all that counts?

Ruining it for the rest of us

There are many forms of stupidity on this Earth, but no form of stupidity is as frequently, proudly, and ebulliently broadcasted as religious stupidity.

Speaking of stupid, let's talk about my girlfriend. My girlfriend is great, not only because she recognises what stupidity is and shies away from it at every possible opportunity, but also because she occasionally points me towards the kind of stupidity that I find somewhat entertaining, and says something along the lines of "Go get 'em, tiger". Before I continue with this story, it's important to note that this woman, who willingly identifies herself as my girlfriend, lives in the United States of America. Which as we all know, is the stupidity capital of the world.

Anyhow, this not-at-all-imaginary girlfriend of mine went trick-or-treating with her niece in celebration of the pagan festival, Hallowe'en, with the intention of acquiring sugary snacks from altruistic neighbours. Many of these neighbours obliged the little urchins, providing them with artificially-sweetened sustenance, but some seized the opportunity to pontificate to these diminutive-doorstop-denizens.

A colourful envelope arrived in the post today, and inside were the following documents and a card that read:

I thought you'd really, really enjoy these wonderful treats that Rosie received in her trick-or-treat bag last weekend. I grabbed them before she had a chance to look at them (Thank GOD!) [At which point she drew a smiley-face to drive-home her facetiousness - she's thoughtful like that]

Have fun tearing the people who pass these things out to shreds!

Here are the contents of the envelope, bear in mind that each one of these bears a heavy-handed religious message:


Allow me to espouse Richard Dawkins' oft-jeered position that religion often manifests itself as child-abuse for a moment. I try not to entrench myself in any position too much, but I'm very much of the opinion that distributing this insidious mental-poison to a child who is expecting (a different kind of poisonous) delicious treat is an utterly reprehensible and indefensible act.

My concern is not for the atheistic kids - they have probably been prepared for over-zealous attacks on their emotions by their rationalist parents - my concern is for those children who practice a moderate form of religion and are being targeted to embrace a fundamental, evangelical form of Christianity motivated through fear.

The inherent dishonesty of these pamphlets is astonishing. No parent could object to an apparently cute (though patronisingly simple) maze puzzle, a seemingly patriotic pamphlet fostering interest in the democratic process, or what looks like a spooky ghost story making their way into a treat bag, only to mentally molest [tabloid-style exaggeration for the fun of it] the child once they're alone with their spoils. This cowardly trojan-horse approach is reprehensible [hang on a tick - I've used that word already... Let me consult the thesaurus...] opprobrious!

Flight 144 is a particularly evil story, in which a chap who killed a guy in a drunken barfight meets two old philanthropists (who have dedicated their life to alleviating the suffering of thousands of fellow humans in Africa) on a plane that goes down. The murderer (manslaughterer?) gets to enjoy the spoils of heaven because he preached at his cellmate, whereas the elderly couple are cast into a fiery pit of some description because they didn't harp on about Jesus enough. (I will henceforth point to this example to show that Christianity doesn't necessarily equate to moral guidance 100% of the time, often getting too mired in the worshipping of idols)


I tend to yammer on about things like this for far too long, and I'm sure my feelings on the matter are somewhat evident, so how about you just erase the last 600 words from memory, and take away the summarized version, from the intrepid trick-or-treater’s father:

You have no idea what religious spoil-sports do on an otherwise great holiday for kids in costumes.

Do things like this happen in Ireland? My mother never let us trick-or-treat when I was younger, so I’ve never gone door to door for demanding sweeties like some kind of Jehova’s witness who only has "one heathen's soul" left on his scavenger hunt no idea of what kind of bullshit the good people of Ireland try to pull.

"Broken"

I'm posting this video because it deserves to be shared and seen by as many people as possible. If you're not interested in US politics, you might want to give this post a miss, however.

The clip is a delightfully succinct summation of the type of brazen hypocrisy that propaganda-spewers will indulge in, and the highest concentration of these offenders seem to sit on the right-wing, making the job of political satirists like Jon Stewart a very easy one indeed.

It's testament to how broken political reporting is in the United States when Stewart can just compare statements made by pundits (and politicians) and get the laughs he does. To a casual-follower of US politics, Jon Stewart's comedy (!) show is essential viewing, as it represents the most forthright and concise criticism that one can find on US television.

A Close Call

Whilst playing videogames with my seven year old brother, I became distracted by the fact that he had stopped looking at the TV screen and was directing his gaze towards me, as if gearing up to broach an awkward subject.

“Can I help you sir?” I asked.

“Seán” he squeaked.

“Yessir”

“Do you know America?”

“If by ‘America’ you mean the nation known as the United States of America, then yes I do”

He took a moment to process what I had said, then continued:

“Do you know that there’s a hurricane there at the moment.”

I chuckled and said “Oh Really?”

He seemed taken aback by how aloof I was about our exchange, and proceeded gingerly:

“Do you know who’s there?”

“Who?”

“Caitlyn.”

He paused, waiting for the shock to register on my face, then gave me a little prompt:

“Your girlfriend.”

At this point, (after another chuckle at his concern), I put his mind at ease by explaining to him that America was a very large place, and that anybody I know over there was not in any danger.

And in one fell swoop I learned a few things about my littlest brother: he likes my girlfriend, he has a means of keeping abreast of major world affairs, and unlike his second-eldest brother, he endeavours to be tactful and discreet in potentially difficult conversations!

What's wrong with America (in handy video form)

I'm going to show you two videos designed to deter people from driving whilst under the influence of alcohol. One shows a handful of feeble, unfortunate chaps who are all caught by the police and made to look rather silly. The other shows a rather horriffic example of what could conceivably happen as a result of drink-driving.




(It's in German, but I'm pretty certain that this was made in Ireland and shown there first)

So after watching both of these ask yourself: which is more effective? Promoting an individual ethic of responsibility by making one aware of the possible dire consequences, or warning you that someone else will catch you in the act (for something that is portrayed in an innocuous fashion)?

One from the Road: Teetotalling Traveller

I'm writing this from Terminal 6 of Kennedy International Airport in New York, in an attempt to kill the considerable amount of time that stands between me and my flight to Pittsburgh, to finally reunite with some good friends from my exchange-student days (friends I have now spent more time away from than with).

Little did I know that July 31st is "Bring your small child to America day", as the plane was crawling with the snotty-faced urchins. The satisfaction I usually feel when I finally sit on the plane bound for wherever the hell I’m going was short lived, for my ears were immediately battered with the sounds of some screaming shit-dispenser behind me.

Before I had time to wince, a steward appeared in my vision, and told me that there was a family who would like to sit together and if I'd be willing- at which point I cut him off with a enthusiastic "yes". The flamboyant pretzel-pusher then tantalizingly promised "I'll take care of you for this" - making me excited about the prospect of a journey with a happy ending.

I was positively delighted to be putting some distance between myself and the wailing, but this proved to be a little premature. My new spot was right next to two children - one a few months old - the other three years of age at the most. The elder child and the mother were in a frenzied discussion as I joined them:

Mum, are we flying?
Not yet.
Mum, are we flying?
Not yet.
Mum, are we flying?
Not yet.
Mum, are we flying?
Not yet.
Mum are we flying?

She smiled at me, as if to say "isn't he so cute?” which I promptly shot back at her as she humoured the impetuous infant:

"Not yet."

By now the gelatinous lump on her lap decided it wasn't getting enough attention, so it let rip with a succession of shrieks, each one driving the grimace deeper into my already rather sour pus.

Thankfully, the mother was a woman of action, and she promptly shoved her tit into the tot's face, quelling his quarrelsome mood (a placating method men never grow an immunity to).

Being the polite passenger that I am, I turned away from the suckling nipper, and began to stare longingly at the empty exit-row seat. No sooner had the covetous thoughts taken a hold than a stewardess materialized from behind me and offered me the leg-roomiest spot on the plane.

The plane took off on time, and I got to spend six and a half hours, enjoying the ingenuity employed by a brother and sister pair in annoying one another. The stewardess of ambivalent offers appeared and revealed the spoils of my charitable acts: free alcohol.

Offering free booze to this teetotalling traveller meant about as much to me as my mother's assurances that she'd pray for my safe voyage.

Christians? Crackers!

In December ’06, during my fourth month or so in the States, I had to do a “cultural breakdown” of some public event, and contemplate it at a level people generally don’t. I made casual reference to this in a blog entry at the time, but didn’t go too far into the polemical specifics, as I had yet to embrace representing the full extent of my beliefs on this blog.

It was supposed to be a 'cultural breakdown,' but since I winged it and was deulsionally tired, it turned into a ten minute lecture on why everybody should be agnostic.

The thesis of the presentation was that ‘faith‘ is just reframed superstition, and anyone who invokes it is openly declaring their lack of intellectual integrity. It was my first public denunciation of childish beliefs, and most greeted it with a stunned silence, or laughed at the absurdity of what the large Irish man was saying.

The presentation was borne out of the frustration I felt at being surrounded by so many people who seemed to punctuate their sentences with allusions to religious dogma, and the general lack of scepticism with which they approached all topics, as a system of binary oppositions seemed to define most; democrat/republican, pro-life/pro-choice, “global warming is real”/ “global warming is a scare-tactic by liberals”. I'm also keen to point out that I had yet to hear of Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, or any others in the atheistic movement before moving ahead with my diatribe.

Anyhow – as part of my project, I attended a Catholic mass, went up for communion for the first time in years, (forgot what came after “Body of Christ” and said “cheers” instead of "amen"), and slipped the communion-wafer into my pocket, so I had something for show-and-tell. The presence of the communion-wafer on my study desk made my suitemates a little uneasy at first, but it didn’t take long for them to give up on my hell-bound soul.

Why am I bringing this up again? I just read a blog entry by the legendary PZ Myers, in which he highlights a story that is a reflection on the sorry state of our species, which tells the tale of young Webster Cook, who “smuggled a Eucharist[...] out of mass, didn't eat it as he was supposed to do, but instead walked with it”. This incident is hardly newsworthy on its own grounds, until you factor in the immensely stupid response of the religious, who have accused him of hate crime, condemned his “mortal sin” (sending him straight to hell when he dies), and are actively trying to get him expelled from school!

Let’s have PZ break it down:

That's right. Crazy Christian fanatics right here in our own country have been threatening to kill a young man over a cracker. This is insane. These people are demented fuckwits.

PZ Myers is an educated man. A scientist, even. Who teaches biology. Biology is a science which furthers our understanding of ourselves and the world, and is therefore important. And these people just made him say “fuckwit”.

Of course, as appalled as I am by this story, my overriding narcissism has to kick in, and I have to think about myself for a moment. When I made that presentation in Pittsburgh, I decided not to use the cracker at the last minute, thinking that my classmates would cry “offensive!” and not listen to what I was actually saying. Not only would I have committed a “hate crime” by removing the magical Jesus-bread (listen to how stupid your beliefs sound, Catholics!), but I would have used it as a prop in a 10-15 minute “hate-speech” against Christians. They probably would have tried to get me deported, and at the least, it would have destroyed my chances of staying a second semester.

Unsurprisingly, PZ Myers is now being attacked by the pitchfork-brandishing “fuckwits”, merely for reporting on the issue, and treating it with the reverence it deserved:

I have received 39 pieces of personal hate mail of varying degrees of literacy, all because I was rude to a cracker ... I even have one email that says I should be fired, that the author would like to kill me, and that I only criticize because Catholics are so gentle and kind.

Nyctophobia

I arrived back in Ireland after a rather splendid Thanksgiving in Wisconsin (as you may be aware), and I thought it only fair to detail the kinks of reacclimatizing oneself. (doesn't the word 'acclimatize' just look so wrong?)

That's right - I'm talking about how I fared upon returning to my native lands after a meagre 8 days around the football throwin', burger-guzzlin', signpost shootin', Jesus-lovin', monster-truck watchin', light-beer quaffin', imperial-system measurin', rock-music makin', chicken-flavoured-biscuit chompin', Hummer-drivin', icecap meltin', country invadin' ragamuffins that we know and love as simply; Yanks!

Truthfully, I only noticed one small detail, and it didn't occur to me until long after I left Shannon airport. The following night, when driving in my car I was unusually anxious, if the speedometer was anything to go by. Despite the fact that I was on the same roads that have taken me home for the past four years, my 10 minute journey took 20. The reason?

Fear. Fear of the dark.

That's right folks! After 8 days of being a passenger on a small offering of the State's brilliantly lit (not to mention straight as an arrow) road network, I managed a reprise of a fear most people forget about around the same time they retire their training potty (mine was called Mr Gobbles).

Initially, I was appalled with myself - I was being ridiculous! But upon reflection, I realised that maybe hurtling headfirst into the black abyss at 100 kilometres an hour guided only by small beam of light to cut a swatch into the pitch-black before you might be something that we as a squishable species should shy away from!

What's worse, when your eyes finally manage to adjust to the scant few drops of luminance on a country road that features no public lighting, and your photoreceptor cells are suddenly flooded with the glaring headlights of the oncoming car that has come out of the bend you only saw pop out of the black a second ago. It's at this point that you are no longer driving based on what you can see - you are now blindly flailing the wheel around in whatever mental-snapshot you managed to take of the 10 metres of straight road ahead of you, and you're hoping your vision comes back before any dog/tree/child/wall/Yank/ditch imposes itself into your path.

Sounds exhilarating, yes? So is ingesting 1.5 litre bottles of sherry anally (twice). [Seriously - if you only ever click one link on this site - let it be that one!]

'A Strange and Wondrous Place'

America is a strange and wondrous place. So much so that acclimatizing yourself to its many sights, sounds and smells can be a little jarring the first time round.

After living in Pittsburgh for 9 months, I didn't think that I'd have to readjust to it after a mere five months in Ireland.

I can handle the crappy money that makes it impossible to intuitively determine what note or coin is what. I can deal with the sight of electrical outlets in bathrooms. Driving on the opposite side of the road doesn't faze me like it once did. Having to request a 'bag of chips' instead of a 'packet of crisps' is still second nature to me. I appreciate the extra mouthful in every can or bottle of 'soda'. Heck, I even prefer that the light switches are larger, more flickable levers, instead of the small stubborn ones I've experienced on the Emerald Isle. All of these minor changes are a given - and I slip into them like a comfortable pair of old shoes. What isn't quite as comfortable, however, is the sheer volume of fatties.

I don't understand how these people are so fat. But merely calling them 'fat' is quite misleading. The people that I find visually offensive are the morbidly obese, four-hundred pounders who wheeze as they waddle about the place.

Sitting in the airport at Shannon as I waited for my plane, I looked around to play the 'what nationality' game. A short lived game, however; the first entity I laid eyes on caused a sensory overload as I tried to extrapolate a gender and species from the mountain of flesh, based on observation alone.

I do find it quite disturbing, beholding these people as they attempt to emulate the bipeds around them. What's more, it seems that my social tact is inversely proportionate to my proximity to one of these beasts. Let's apply that theorem to a recent example.

About four hours into the flight to Chicago, I was watching a (bad) movie (called Unknown that you should never watch), and I felt the floor around me vibrate. When one is thirty-thousand feet from the unforgiving ocean, they're obviously going to pay attention to whatever is causing such tremors. I looked up as two whales stuffed into a moo-moo, Little Rascals style, trundled towards me. The smell from these beasts masquerading as woman was woeful. The unmistakable smell of mould launched a full frontal assault on my nose, as it was shook free from the innumerable gelatinous layers of skin this woman was buried under. My reaction? I exclaimed a terrifically loud "Urrrrghhh" and covered my nose and mouth, oblivious to how noisy I actually was because the headphones I was wearing were blaring.

It's possible my incredibly insensitive carry-on could have been mistaken for a reaction to the film, but I doubt it. And I hope not. We should hector the fatties more. Not just for the sake of their health, but for the poor bastards like me who have to look at them.