So Rachel saw an article about 23 great uses for a microwave that you didn't know on a site ironically boasting time-saving tips for busy parents. Not busy enough to read about how you can both soften and melt butter. And since the microwave can be used to heat literally an infinite amount of things, why 23 items on this list? I guess busy parents don't have time for 24. I guess some people don't know this "gizmo" has been around for a long time now and they an require in-depth infomercial explanation of how amazing its millions of uses really are.
Rachel posted her own snarky list of 23 additional uses that you may enjoy here. In honor of Halloween this month here is my list of 23 uses for a microwave. So dust off the ol' microwave because you finally have a use (23 actually) for it.
1. Warming cold babies.
2. Cooking cold babies.
3. Softening a severed hand.
4. If you remove the door, you can use the microwave as a "self-defense" mechanism.
5. Racoon trap.
6. Candy wrapper melter.
7. Severed foot heater.
8. Kill the lice in your old vampire cape.
9. Heat up mummy wraps.
10. Heat up breakfast blood for a quick snack before vampire work.
11. Cooking raw brains (if your zombie is into that).
12. Eyeball soup.
13. Give yourself super powers.
14. Give yourself cancer.
15. Give yourself super cancer.
16. Give a baby super cancer.
17. Boil holy water for self-defense against fiends of the night.
18. Spider torture.
19. Exit this dimension.
20. Enter this dimension.
21. Merge your dog and cat into a super pet.
22. Make a jack-o-lantern explode.
23. Make Jack explode.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Friday, October 7, 2011
Nooooooooooooooooooo Clones
I know this topic has been talked to death, but I had an epiphany on my way to work today. I don’t if I am the first person to realize this or what because I have heard literally hours and hours of criticism of the Star Wars prequels and have yet to hear this point brought up. Such a huge plot hole and now it just seems so obvious.
So supposedly the whole point of the entire saga is to show Anakin’s rise and fall and redemption right? Yeah right but we’ll just go with that. And he goes over to the dark side to learn how to keep people from dying and to bring them back from the dead, specifically the one he loves. But in the Star Wars galaxy this ability already exists and not only does it not require years of diligent research, you don’t need the force at all, dark or light side. It is called cloning!
Clones are used in the first authorized trilogy after the movies were done. They were inserted into every movie. And don’t tell me Darth Vader is above cloning; two of the most popular games out right now involve him cloning some evil Jedi. You telling me it never occurred to him at any point to clone Padme? You think he is above the ethical dilemma there? He murders people for breakfast. He killed younglins because he thought it would somehow bring her back. We're talking a pretty desperate guy. It was like Annie couldn't see the forest for the clone army all around him, you know helping him kill the Jedi to save Padme or whatever.
And if you’re thinking, man these Star Wars movies have been talked into the ground, remember this. People are still arguing about Hamlet 400 years later, so I think Star Wars has a little extra mileage in it.
For your viewing pleasure.
So supposedly the whole point of the entire saga is to show Anakin’s rise and fall and redemption right? Yeah right but we’ll just go with that. And he goes over to the dark side to learn how to keep people from dying and to bring them back from the dead, specifically the one he loves. But in the Star Wars galaxy this ability already exists and not only does it not require years of diligent research, you don’t need the force at all, dark or light side. It is called cloning!
Clones are used in the first authorized trilogy after the movies were done. They were inserted into every movie. And don’t tell me Darth Vader is above cloning; two of the most popular games out right now involve him cloning some evil Jedi. You telling me it never occurred to him at any point to clone Padme? You think he is above the ethical dilemma there? He murders people for breakfast. He killed younglins because he thought it would somehow bring her back. We're talking a pretty desperate guy. It was like Annie couldn't see the forest for the clone army all around him, you know helping him kill the Jedi to save Padme or whatever.
And if you’re thinking, man these Star Wars movies have been talked into the ground, remember this. People are still arguing about Hamlet 400 years later, so I think Star Wars has a little extra mileage in it.
For your viewing pleasure.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Praise to this Man
So for my MBA, I’ve been studying psychological theories behind motivation. Apparently it is a complicated issue. All this psycho talk got me introspecting. You’re probably familiar with Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, shaped as a pyramid with self-actualization at the peak. If I had a shape-based hierarchy it would probably be a shame-filled hexagon or a guilt-ridden trapezoid, meaning I am all over the place.
I’ve heard that my generation, or maybe the one after me, expects ego boosts for every little thing they do because they were raised in such a way that they were constantly reinforced by overzealous parents who in turn were overcompensating for the under-praising they received when they were growing up. Well let me assure you, I want me some praise, but actually receiving praise makes me so very uncomfortable.
When I was in school, if I felt that the praise wasn’t worth the effort (which it usually wasn’t), then there was little motivation, until I reached college and suddenly no one cared either way. So I learned to praise myself, in small doses (pints actually, of the ice cream variety). Then I entered the real world. Now I work hard to do a good job, partially because I like the challenge, partially because I like the sense of accomplishment, plus I really enjoy it, and I like to feel appreciated and needed.
But here is the thing. Praise is this double-edged sword. When I see others get it I naturally feel glad for them, but also maybe a little—well not jealous because that’s not the right term—but maybe a little envious. Never in a way like “I deserve that glass statuette, not you” but more along the lines of “man, I suck. I wish I were the kind of employee that worked that hard.” But then I ask if it is really worth a whole year’s extra effort just for a lopsided piece of glass? Not really. A year is a long time for a five second payoff. And the annual trophy things they give out are not even symmetrical. Plus I feel all jerky just for thinking that I'd want one. Then, and I am not making this up, I feel a little grateful, but slightly paranoid, that no one can read my insane insecure thoughts (they can’t, right?). What would they think about me? (I wouldn’t know because I don’t have telepathy myself). They’d think I was a selfish jerk, that's what. Their imagined reactions can be so cruel, if they were real and not just my delusions.
But here is the other side of that sword. When I do get accolades, I feel all uncomfortable about it. Like I am this stupid fraud and they should know it. Or that I should disagree out of some misplaced sense of politeness but I also don’t want to appear ungrateful either and I don’t want to make a big deal out of it (why can’t I just say thank you and sit down/shut up?). The guilt sets in quick. Because how could I deserve a simple “good job, whatever your name is”? And I get the feeling that any sense of pride on my part is egotistical. And don’t forget about the telepathy paranoia. You know God is listening in.
It’s a painful process either way. So I work hard, grin and bear the praise if any, and repeat. And don’t even get me started on performance reviews. I go in expecting a tongue lashing (that sounds unpleasant doesn’t it?) and if I don’t get one, I leave a little disappointed. If I could just get the right balance of humility and self-esteem. Maybe I am overanalyzing again. Nah, that can’t be it. Man, I am messed up.
Please like me.
I’ve heard that my generation, or maybe the one after me, expects ego boosts for every little thing they do because they were raised in such a way that they were constantly reinforced by overzealous parents who in turn were overcompensating for the under-praising they received when they were growing up. Well let me assure you, I want me some praise, but actually receiving praise makes me so very uncomfortable.
When I was in school, if I felt that the praise wasn’t worth the effort (which it usually wasn’t), then there was little motivation, until I reached college and suddenly no one cared either way. So I learned to praise myself, in small doses (pints actually, of the ice cream variety). Then I entered the real world. Now I work hard to do a good job, partially because I like the challenge, partially because I like the sense of accomplishment, plus I really enjoy it, and I like to feel appreciated and needed.
But here is the thing. Praise is this double-edged sword. When I see others get it I naturally feel glad for them, but also maybe a little—well not jealous because that’s not the right term—but maybe a little envious. Never in a way like “I deserve that glass statuette, not you” but more along the lines of “man, I suck. I wish I were the kind of employee that worked that hard.” But then I ask if it is really worth a whole year’s extra effort just for a lopsided piece of glass? Not really. A year is a long time for a five second payoff. And the annual trophy things they give out are not even symmetrical. Plus I feel all jerky just for thinking that I'd want one. Then, and I am not making this up, I feel a little grateful, but slightly paranoid, that no one can read my insane insecure thoughts (they can’t, right?). What would they think about me? (I wouldn’t know because I don’t have telepathy myself). They’d think I was a selfish jerk, that's what. Their imagined reactions can be so cruel, if they were real and not just my delusions.
But here is the other side of that sword. When I do get accolades, I feel all uncomfortable about it. Like I am this stupid fraud and they should know it. Or that I should disagree out of some misplaced sense of politeness but I also don’t want to appear ungrateful either and I don’t want to make a big deal out of it (why can’t I just say thank you and sit down/shut up?). The guilt sets in quick. Because how could I deserve a simple “good job, whatever your name is”? And I get the feeling that any sense of pride on my part is egotistical. And don’t forget about the telepathy paranoia. You know God is listening in.
It’s a painful process either way. So I work hard, grin and bear the praise if any, and repeat. And don’t even get me started on performance reviews. I go in expecting a tongue lashing (that sounds unpleasant doesn’t it?) and if I don’t get one, I leave a little disappointed. If I could just get the right balance of humility and self-esteem. Maybe I am overanalyzing again. Nah, that can’t be it. Man, I am messed up.
Please like me.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Meaningful Conversations
DISCLAIMER: If you didn't know better, you might think this was me being a jerk. But as long as Rachel laughs, I don't consider it abusive. Rachel laughed both when I said it and later when she read it. This is what some people might call "teasing." So if you are prone to judgyness, please stop reading now.
Rachel and I have many meaningful conversations in our long and wonderful year+ of marriage. Here is one that occured tonight before bedtime while it's still fresh in my mind:
Me: OK you get ready for bed now.
Rachel: OK.
Me: Don't forget to shower.
R: I'm not going to shower.
Me: But then you'll be smelly.
R: You called me smelly.
Me: No I said you would be smelly.
R: It's too cold to shower.
Me: So you're gonna shower. . .in the spring?
R: Why do you hate me?
Oh, Rachel, so many reasons. No, JK, it turns out I love her bunches (even when smelly).
UPDATE:
Some women who will remain nameless don't respond well to being told their angry face looks like bass face, they sound like a cranky sheep, or that they are acting like an enraged chipmunk.
Also the phrase "I hope you feel like poop, but only on the inside" doesn't get you far with the ladyfolk.
And later that evening. . .
Me: Are you saying I can't lift this matress with you on it? That sounds like a challenge.
R: The mattress alone is pretty heavy.
Me: You're pretty heavy.
R: Ah, you called me fat.
Me: No I mean you are heavy on the pretty. Like if some nachos had a lot of cheese they would be cheese heavy.
Rachel and I have many meaningful conversations in our long and wonderful year+ of marriage. Here is one that occured tonight before bedtime while it's still fresh in my mind:
Me: OK you get ready for bed now.
Rachel: OK.
Me: Don't forget to shower.
R: I'm not going to shower.
Me: But then you'll be smelly.
R: You called me smelly.
Me: No I said you would be smelly.
R: It's too cold to shower.
Me: So you're gonna shower. . .in the spring?
R: Why do you hate me?
Oh, Rachel, so many reasons. No, JK, it turns out I love her bunches (even when smelly).
UPDATE:
Some women who will remain nameless don't respond well to being told their angry face looks like bass face, they sound like a cranky sheep, or that they are acting like an enraged chipmunk.
Also the phrase "I hope you feel like poop, but only on the inside" doesn't get you far with the ladyfolk.
And later that evening. . .
Me: Are you saying I can't lift this matress with you on it? That sounds like a challenge.
R: The mattress alone is pretty heavy.
Me: You're pretty heavy.
R: Ah, you called me fat.
Me: No I mean you are heavy on the pretty. Like if some nachos had a lot of cheese they would be cheese heavy.
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