Thursday, October 21, 2010

This Fool is Out of Order

Well, less than 24 hours from now, I'm going to be in a world of excruciating pain. 

No, it's not a Miley Cyrus concert. It's my wisdom teeth removal. All four. All impacted. (Where will all my classic wit go?)

Thank heaven for painkillers and anesthesia. 

Hopefully I'll be back to blogging on Monday as usual. And it will probably be a whole lotta complaining and griping about my soon-to-be-chipmunk face.  :)

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Technology is our Demise

I can see it now: a cheesy, low-budget sci fi movie, made for tv. Huge awkward styrofoam cellphone monsters decimate humanity with laser beams, while mammoth copy machines xerox our brains against the glass until we die..

It may sound ridiculous but technology is our demise. Now hear me out, I'm not taking for granted how they've simplified my life. I understand they've made wonderful advances for humanity, especially in the medical field. In fact, I don't know how more crazy I'd be without the ability to blog at my fingertips. They allow us to gain time, they keep us connected. (I.e. toothbrush, E-Z pass, toilet paper, cellphones)  But I believe technology has become more than a helpful tool, more than accesories to facilitate our life.

They are also simplifying our brains.

Think I'm exxagerating? How many phone numbers can you recite by memory? Less than 10? Less than 5? Do you have trouble remembering even yours? When was the last time you played a game with another flesh and bone person, instead of a computer? How often do you learn how to get to places by memory and map? When was the last time you bought a physical book? When was the last time you wrote a letter? Can you spell check your own paper?

Perhaps you're starting to think i'm old fashioned. But it's not that I'm rejecting technology because it replaces a past form of lifestyle. The former activities, like playing a game of chess with someone, finding a good book and reading it cover to cover, sitting down and finishing a puzzle, and scanning a map to find a route actually stimulated the brain and promoted interaction between people. People had less memory problems, less socially-awkward issues, and aged with a more capable mind. Younger generations didn't suffer carpal tunnel syndrome. But all we do now is use our fingertips. Tap, touch, press :video games, qwerty keyboards, touchscreens, keyboards, etc.  The more technological accesories we implement in our life, the more brain power we subtract and the more physical problems we add.

Picture this typical setting. Another way over use of technology stunts our brains. You have a gathering at your house. You invite a variety of friends of all age groups. What are the younger ones doing? What are the older ones doing? Perhaps you'll notice a trend. To avoid breaking the ice and seemingly awkward small-talk, the younger generations enclose themselves in a cocoon of technology. Ipod in and volume up, phone in hand, fingers flying away in rapid text mode and mind deprived of healthy conversation that contributes to growing as an individual, creating not only a rift in generations, but a division of worlds, and a deplorable halt in mental growth.

Back to the another accesory. Your GPS. It now has become the background noise in most vehicles, guiding you from your house to your job, to your house. But one day, according to the magical law of Murphy, you'll be in a strange part of town, because the route you usually take is closed. Your GPS has overheated and broken down, your cellphone has no signal and draining battery, and the floodgates in heaven have opened forth a torrential downpour. Lucky you, lost in the middle of nowhere. Now what? If only you had trusted your friend, Rand McNally, and kept a couple of maps handy. But will you even know how to read them?

For more cons on technology, visit this website.



Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Like Screeching In My Ear

There's only so much you can rant about before you upset someone. And I think the time has come for me! I sit there pushing scan on my radio, listening to pieces of garbled horribly super synthesized "songs." They call it music. I call it verbal diarrhea.

"Baby I like it
The way you move on the floor
Baby I like it
Come on and give me some more"


Really? How many times have we heard that in a pop song? My tolerance for Enrique Igaysias is slowly coming to an end. Back in the day, he actually had substanstial songs, about love and loss. Now he's down there sucking scum with Pitbull making the world's deepest music, howling and recording his screechy voice on every refried pop beat.

"You know what it is girl, we back up in this thang
Money stay in my pocket, girl, I'm like a walkin' bank
Tell me whatcha drank, tell me whatcha thank
If I go get these bottles, we go alcohol insane"


Wow. Edgar Allan Poe doesn't have jack on these guys. "I'm like a walkin' bank" is definitely the most clever simile I've heard in a while.So you rip people off with high interest loans and then go bankrupt and fail on everyone who depends on you? And somehow the idea of a jerk loaded with money and alcohol makes me think they could care less what you "thank"..

"If I could write you a song to make you fall in love,
I'd already have you under my arm.."

If only you could, Mike Posner, if only you could. Except those horrendous 80s glasses that look like retro tv screens are blocking all direct sunlight to your rotting brain. Except you're hopping aimlessly in a room full of flakers and posers and caring too much what the mindless think. Why don't we set our sights lower, perhaps writing a valentine card. Here's mine for you. 

"Roses are red, violets are blue,
I'd poke my veins all day
before I listen to you." 

I give up. If these three songs were the exception, I would give radio a chance. But unfortunately, they're not solely to blame, because most songs are variations of this refuse. Its back to listening to old CDs and my Ipod, stocked with Armin Van Buuren's State of Trance. Techno and all its wonderful branches.. it still hasn't let me down.

Monday, October 18, 2010

The Hi-Res Challenged

We all have them on our friend list on Facebook. We have all seen them on other friend's lists. We've seen, admired, clicked, and gasped. Yikes. Definitely looked better in a thumbnail.

That's right. This blog is dedicated to the Hi-Resolution Challenged, the Pixelated Pretty, and the altogether Thumbnail Fabulous. Here's a rant, just for them.


Dear Visually Awkward Person,


Life hasn't been easy for you, but now, you have a lot of appreciating to do. When at one point people would stare and laugh in your face, now they just have to click and giggle. And you won't hear a thing.

I see you carefully positioned yourself in clever lighting, caked yourself with pounds of makeup and held the camera at an odd to decipher angle while you took and erased 342 pictures. But let's face it. Number 343 isn't any better. And while thumbnails make you look semi decent, once we click your name, it's all over.

Right smack before our eyes lies the naked truth, in all its glory. Now we have two options, hurl into a paper bag, or quickly reboot the computer.

You think you're being clever.. but we all know you're only digitally lovely. The rest of your time is spent in the dark cold cave of your room hiding from humanity. Don't worry, it's only a matter of time before facial masks are created and accessible to aesthetically less fortunate. Meanwhile, keep counting your blessings and stop pasting that thing on your head you call a face all over the internet.

Thanks, glad we had this convo.

Prancing with the Injured

Okay, so we all know celebrities are not amongst society's fanciest and respectable group of people. But when it comes to broadcasting your humiliation nationwide, the Spanish version of "Dancing with the stars" known as "Mira Quien Baila! (Look who's dancing)" takes the cake. 
Overrated news anchors, B-list soap opera daytime Emmy winners, and long non-heard of fading singers are all cast on a dance floor in front of a camera and told to get jiggy with it. But oh, the drama! Front and center are the accidents. Last night, Jon Secada flopped on his knee, during his visually painful performance, after failing to catch his partner, and immediately formed a riot as he bawled and winced on all fours like an abandoned puppy. And instead of calling it a day, he was ushered out AGAIN to do some awkward robot-duck-bread-making routine to David Bisbal's Buleria. 
Niurka Marcos, however, didn't even show up after last week's knee injury to add to the caked up faked out show. Its sad to say that Dancing with the Stars is a much better show, and the featured celebrities normally come from countries where multi-cultural dancing is not taught from the womb. So why are these so called Hispanics making the rest of us look so horribly bad? They should spend less time paying plastic surgeons to fix their droops and tighten their sloops and more time learning how to tango.
I weep for the future of television..