This is one of my favorite memes to come along in a long time. It’s getting kind of long in the tooth as memes go, but I like it anyway. One can tell a meme is a good one when one can use it for one’s own nefarious ends.
“Now with 30% more fail!”
In March 2008, Earthrace will attempt to set a new speed record for a powerboat to circumnavigate the globe running 100% biodiesel, and with a net zero carbon-footprint, in order to increase awareness of the environment and the sustainable use of resources.
“Net zero carbon footprint.” While I don’t want to detract from something cool–I like it when cool things happen– this phrase is beginning to really grate. This boat has a 3,000 gallon fuel tank. A non-trivial amount of energy went in to making it in the first place. It’s only “net zero” because the company buys carbon offsets. I could make a Hummer or a Boeing 727 “net zero” doing that.
You know, if *everybody* bought carbon offsets to reduce their carbon footprint to “net zero,” we’d still have a problem. I don’t care how many trees you plant, a 727 still does what it does.
Before someone says that I don’t understand the concept behind carbon offsets, let me just say this: I understand it. It’s a wonderful way to roll around in your cake and then eat it. It’s a wonderful way to keep doing what you’re doing with a clean conscience. I *understand* that. You gave at the office. You adopted the skinny televised black kid in Ethiopia. What you didn’t do was leave your Hummer at home and walk to the grocery store.
“Net zero carbon footprint.” Jesus Christ. The phrase is about to become absolutely meaningless as every damn company piles on with its own product. It’ll be like what happened to the word ‘retarded’ when it leaked out into the mainstream; psychiatrists had to come up with some other word. A perfectly descriptive term, ruined by squatters.
When a can of coke is advertised as having a “net zero carbon footprint,” the retardeding of the phrase will be complete.
King pardons Saudi rape victim – CNN.com
It’s funny how seriously the world community takes the kingdom. As if they have some sort of point, some sort of gravitas.
The need for the pardon defies all. The kingdom will not last another 50 years. So says the Great Curmudgeon.
– I felt like I only got 40 winks last night.
– You know “40 winks” is considered a good night’s sleep, right?
– Not by me, it isn’t. “40 winks” sounds like something I could do on the sofa during a commercial. I need a lot more winks than that to have a good night’s sleep.
– That’s odd; I always thought of “40 winks” as rather a lot. Like you’d only get that many if you were in a coma or something.
– That is odd.
– How many winks do you think should equal a good night’s sleep?
– 600.
– 600? Who are you, Rip Van Winkle?
– 600 winks. Anything less and I’m groggy all morning.
– Far out. Me, I only need 12 winks to feel sharp.
– Why do they call them “winks,” anyway?
– That’s a good question. I don’t know. Maybe they called them “blinks” and then it transmogrified somehow.
– It’s possible.
– Even if they didn’t call them blinks, maybe we should.
– Why?
– Well, maybe we could agree on how many blinks constituted a good night’s sleep. That way we’d be on the same page.
– Should we be on the same page? Is that something we should strive for?
– I don’t know; it’s hard to tell. I’m kind of tired.
– Why? How many winks did you get last night?
In solidarity with Gillian Gibbons, I’ve decided to name my son’s old teddy bear Muhammad. Also 3 of my lawnchairs, the kitchen table, the old skillet that the teflon’s peeling from, the brown patch in the backyard, and the keys to my truck. These are all henceforth renamed Muhammad.
The stuff that collects under the couch between vacuumings I rename What The Fuck Is Wrong With You People? .
I swear I need some symbolic something to go apeshit over, too. I’m totally lacking in symbolic apeshittery. I feel kind of naked because the only response I have now to somebody else’s godly freak-out is a kind of bemused anxiety, which I’m getting kind of tired of, frankly. Thousands of screaming townsfolk marching on my house with torches and stones in their hands, and all I get is bemused anxiety to fend them off? That rarely works. So that changes now, Jack.
From now on, I consider the act of shaking someone’s right hand an affront. AN AFFRONT TO EVERYTHING I HOLD DEAR. If I see someone, a Right-to-lifer or a Sudanese fringewit Muslim or who-have-you, shaking someone’s hand with his or her right hand, I reserve the right to call for their fucking heads. Because shaking someone’s hand with your right hand…why, you may as well have murdered puppies in my living room. Shat right there in the gumbo. The only way I’ll cancel the fatwa is if I get some serious fucking media play. The world has to realize the magnitude of the blunder before I’ll call it off.
While I’m at it, I also call for the heads of those people who haven’t named their various kitchen appliances or outdoor furnishings Muhammad. These people make my blood boil. And those who haven’t had an abortion or performed an abortion, who are high on my holy shit list? Death to them.
THE WORLD WILL ACKNOWLEDGE MY SYMBOLIC APESHITTERY.
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