Darwin Din't Get No Beaver

First off, I apologize for my photo editing skills in advance.

Secondly, why is it that wacky guys in cartoons are always named Larry or Ralph?

Finally, I don't get it? Who wants a big hairy beaver for their birthday?

Sheer Profundity?

I know when I said, "finally" you'da (uh-oh there goes the grammar rodeo) hoped I'd just stop there. Alas I am very far from done.

Anyone who knows me knows that it's very hard for me to stay on point. They think I am just stupid or that I was probably dropped on my head while smoking a bong as a child.

They are only half right...

And in my opinion, Darwin's theory of evolution is probably only half right at best. No, I am not a creationist although I have been known to begatting down from time to time. No, it's because I don't think that humans are highly evolved. Who cares whether or not we came from apes, monkeys or chimps? How does that help us out today? Through natural selection humans have developed an opposable thumb and this makes us superior to monkeys? Yeah, yeah, yeah...I know we can talk. Christopher Walken in The Prophecy referred to man as talking monkeys. We wish... and monkeys everywhere were offended. They can swing in trees with their feet for crying out loud! But that is not my biggest problem with Darwin or Evolution.

My main problem is with the beaver.

Have you ever read or seen anything about this animal? They basically can live on land and in the water for the love of God (or Darwin, no offense Mr. & Mrs. Evolution...which is by the way a pretty great band name but I digress)! I can grip a hammer and hold a pen...they can cut down trees with their teeth! I'm sorry but they are far superior to humans and yet Darwin chose humans as his focus group. Talk about solipsism...Why do you think we give Beavers names like Bucky? It's because deep down inside we are all anti-evolutionites. We all know inside our highly evolved domes that regardless of whether God did it to us or our environment moved us precariously along towards our current state. We's sure did gets the short end of the stick so's tah' speak. The stick that a beaver makes far more productive use of than humans can and at a lower cost.

When people want to do construction, they go before zoning commissions and beg for variances that will allow for their precious structures to be built. When beavers want to build crap they just gnaw on some trees, knock shit down, slop mud on it and call it home. They don't care who's on the town council and they certainly don't send the mayor's wife a coupon for a free car wash. No, like Nike used to say, the beaver just do it. Beavers flood farmer's lands in this country more than American Idol sucks. Is Al Gore pissed about it? No, what can he do? They're freaking beavers and they do what they want when they want. Towns try to stop them by putting up barricades in front of sewage holes but beavers don't play. They usually find a way to get around these feebly archaic hindrances so they can build and grow their population. I don't know about you but just in case this global warming crap is true, my money would be on the beavers. I guarantee they get better odds in Vegas than man. Did I mention that they basically could live on land or in water? Meanwhile, some guy in Arkansas (or New Jersey) is picking his nose with his thumb, which is just a glorified finger.

Just one more thing on how I feel about beavers...

They rule.

Just one more thing on Darwin and evolution...

If beavers evolved from a lower species into their current awesomeness how come they don't get constantly compared to them? I mean how come we have to put up with being compared to monkeys who masturbate in public and fling poop while beavers just get to go around cutting down trees and screwing up our farmer's properties? Exactly...it's because if evolution holds any truth it's that beavers are the superior species.

PS - I hate people who get all sad when whales beach themselves. They're just trying to eat you, moron. Ask a seal or a walrus and they'd tell you...I dares ya' to ask 'em.

PSS - To the creationists in the crowd, riddle me this...On the first day, God said, "Let there be light." But then He waited until like the fourth day to create the sun, the moon and the stars. What was the light He created? I'm not trying to be obnoxious...I seriously want to know what theologically you think He did...Did God create Jesus on that first day or did He just create the idea of Jesus' light? Without the sun, the moon and the stars would there even be light?

Until Next Time:

LETS GO METS!

3X!

This post also appears over at The Aurora...a good place to go for Right Wingers like myself & a good place for Lefties (like the Overfloater who thinks that George W. Bush was involved with the September 11th attacks) to go for reprogramming.

Comic Relief

OVERFLOATER must give out his props, exclaim his respect
for the best quarterback who displayed what I didn't expect

self-depricating to the end, he hammed it up on Saturday Night
Live from New York and much to his many fans' utmost delight

came a United Way commercial where kids he pegged
in the head, in the back, and despite how they begged

on he commanded, "Brown,Razor. Pink, watch the blitz!"
and the audibles and hand signals the kids completely missed

So he shouted in their faces, "Do you want to lose this game?"
and, "Go to the port-a-potty, you suck and you are to blame!"

he sneered at one kid, "I don't even want to look at you."
and after the game he taught them how to steal cars too

Then he became Ted Trimble- refined, college basketball guru
for ESPN, whose 63-2 tournament picks was some Vegas voodoo

As the skit played on, the host had an unusual way of expressing
Texas' first-round tournament exit as "pulling a Peyton Manning."

and Peyton, as Ted, replied, "I don't get it. What are you saying?"
to which Bob said, "his glorious stats equate post-season deflating."

And Ted, as Peyton, got mad, "Peyton Manning is an amazing quarterback."
Citing an example Bob replied, "Yeah,...like this year's Arkansas Razorbacks."

At which everyone but Ted had a good laugh
even the lowly cameramen and studio staff

and Ted stood and stormed off of the set in much dismay
and even my Peyton-hating girlfriend had to honestly say

That was some funny shit

Thank God for the First Amendment!

This is a protest post because I was not allowed to put this harmless picture of Lindsay Lohan's boob to make a joke on the Jets blog.

Thank God at least one blog site (Overfloater) has not sold out to corporate America by banning pictures of a naked breast.

God Bless America and all our civil liberties! F the Jets Blog and its censorship!

Review of "Stranger than Fiction"

I just rented this movie last week and I have to tell you, it was great. I loved it. So did my wife.

For anyone who doesn't know, it is about an IRS Agent named Harold Crick, (Will Ferrell, aka Unruly), (or should I say that it is about his wristwatch), who finds out that he is the main character in a story written by Kay Eiffel (Emma Thompson) and that he is going to die at the end of the story.

He starts hearing voices when he is going through his normal morning routine, the same one he goes through every day of his life, and the voice is narrating what he is doing throughout the day. While annoying at first, it eventually gets him upset when the voice says that he would soon be facing his "imminent death."

While he hears these voices, he is in the process of auditing a baker by the name of Ana Pascal, (Maggie Gyllenhaal) and starts to have feelings for her.

The voices lead him to seek professional help, by way of Professor Jules Hilbert, played by Dustin Hoffman.

The question remains whether or not Ms. Eiffel can get her book finished as she is going through a major case of writer's block. To that end, an assistant is assigned to her (Queen Latifah's character Penny Escher) to help her finish the book and kill Harold Crick. In the meantime, Harold finally decided to live his life and he realizes that it would be "bad timing" if he were killed at this point.

The story, strange as it may sound, is played out in an almost realistic manner and it really gives Will Ferrell the chance to display his acting chops. Unlike most of his movies, all of the comedy in this one is subdued. He is almost deadpan when delivering most of his punchlines, and it goes to show what a great comedian he truly is. And to be honest, I really like the dramatic scenes as well. I never thought of him as "Ricky Bobby" or Ron Burgandy. He was simply a mild-mannered, lonely IRS Agent.

As for the other characters, I enjoyed them all. Emma Thompson was great and was quite funny throughout the film. The Queen played her part perfectly and she had some great lines as well. I didn't like Dustin Hoffman's character in the movie but he played it perfectly. I understand the motivation for his character, but if you watch the movie you'll see why I didn't like his view of how the story should end. Finally, Maggie Gyllenhaal was good as the love interest. I don't know why she bothers me, but she was good enough in this movie. The relationship between Harold and Ana is sweet because of Harold, not her.

Regardless, I really liked the story and the ending was great. And the message, which was basically that you should live your life and not let it pass you by, was given in an understated but enlightening manner.

This film is an "A" and definitely worth seeing. The DVD has some okay extras as well.

Alluvial

Pen in hand unwinds the tireless demand
from unanswered questions that sift as sand
through my fingers, past my vernacular
of which the sum of none fits precise or spectacular

Reflectiveness, deep empty stares over short distances
digging painstaking around the past's feelings and instances
A nostalgic grave robber lurking about the place of the dead
and given to mourn the lovelorn spirits still haunting his head

Pitiful miracle believer, soothing seared hopes with aloe silence
over ruminating years, still pondering the depths of her ambivalence
True, it was self-discovery, but flames of the past lick hot and lavishly
the sensitive underside of memory, displaying times so apparently
lying peacefully, limbs intertwined under many soft summer eves
splendid in everything, how time turns our All to drifting leaves

In those times
my way a brilliant ray punched through menacing cloud
my dismay my hesitancy to extoll such things aloud

Flower Power

Had a religious awakening in college years ago
I learned to take the sacrament, exhaling slow
and my mind opened like a blooming X-man power
and ideas shared with a friend over the course of an hour
could turn talk to action, an unusual beer bottle
into a legendary bong that for years friends it would throttle

The deceptively powerful Mississippi Mud
instrument of sacrifice for your bud
It was almost as if the Mud could hear us
and if it felt disrespected it wouldn't cuss

wouldn't shout, just knock motherfuckers out
and the ideas would soon downpour away doubt

It began as a plain white bowl-lamp on a drab ceiling
but the Mud bespoke, commanding a painting
and like Michelangelo worked on the Sistine Chapel
the flower project was then but an unbit apple

and we kept expanding the flower, it flowed over the walls
it changed the room dimensions, it required some balls
concentrating in the Mile High August heat of summer
my buddy passed out on his feet, but the room's a stunner

And at the end we were so filled by the Mud's thankful glee
that we desecrated the innocent image of Chef Boyardee
it' s funny still, and if you look closely at his hat
you will see the name of who made us do that

BLOWOUT BOY

My hais is so big,

big as a Christmas Tree,

without ornamental balls.

Screws up my balance.

Like a piano on my head.

I hear will will still grow

when I am dead.

Haircuts don't work.

Hair gel pisses it off.

So I don't try to fight it

all that much.

'Cause my hair is so big,

it has a mind of its own.

Just like Siamese Twins,

I'll never be alone.

And on time it said, quite angrily I might add,

"Put down that comb!"

When I go on dates,

it scoffs on my chick.

When I eat out,

it orders my food.

When I watch TV,

it scratches my...knee.

My hair is as big as the twin towers.

And if you should know,

yes, it has super powers.

'Cause my hair is so big.

It has a mind of its own.

Faster than a train,

stronger than Stallone.

Never to be separated.

Like a dog and his bone.

But one day things got hairy.

And my blowout and I weren't working out.

You see my hair was housing an Irish man

and his family.

And people at work were starting to talk,

And work was going to ask me to take a walk.

But since then me and my hair

worked out the glitches.

And now thngs are back to the way they were.

'Cause my hair is so big,

together we are so big, tough and bad.

And things got shady,

that we forgot what we had.

And my hair might have gotten

my employer really, really mad.

But today that doesn't matter.

'Cause big old Blowout and I are

very, very glad.

SGM 12.12.1998

Along the Breaking, Lapping Edge of Los Angeles

I walked with friends along Venice Beach at 1 am
Along the breaking, lapping edge of Los Angeles
In the sliding traction of soft sand

I stood
Small
Before the voluminous expanse of the Pacific
Under the night's legion of purple-undersided, ocean-rolling storm clouds
Caught in the soft power
That has compelled humans for thousands of years
To stare contemplatively over bodies of water

Mumbling metaphors excitedly
To a steely blue-eyed blond beside me
Her hair straight and long, wispy down between her shoulders
Her demeanor was softer than I had ever seen it
Perhaps melted by the magnificence manifesting before us
The force of the ocean, indifferent to my moment of spiritual consequence

I thought of the life that paddled in it

Out there, under there, somewhere
Things transparent
Luminescent
Gelatinous

Sharks dart
Frenzy below the whitecaps' constant coming advance
Then retreat, advance then retreat
Barracuda backs sure to gleam with the dawn hours away

We wait, safe on the shore, sneakers half-sunk in sand
While the planet spins
Racing to rise the sun from an indistinguishable horizon

Hunks of washed up, soggy kelp
Lie along the miles of beach
Like dead litter a passed over battlefield

Distant silhouettes of friends
Before a rocky outcrop, their conversing carried softly on the light, cool ocean breeze
A skylight searches the low-hanging atmosphere
As a distantly spaced line of helicopters fly straight in
Headlights popping from the Neverness of the Pacific sky
The silhouettes of street-side palm trees stand black and tall
Cutting sharp shapes into the backdrop of the purple, city-hovering cloud cover