Wednesday, September 30, 2009

The Seventh Sense: Neo Without a Cause

Sometimes I think to myself, "Why, God?" But then a kitten walks by and I have to go pet it because they're just so cute when they're little! And other times, mostly when I'm petting the kittens, I think, "Why, God, did you make these kittens so irresistible?" But this is such a stupid question. I think it's pretty obvious that God made kittens cute because if they weren't cute, no one would house and feed them and they would all die, because if there's one thing a kitten is bad at, it's bloodsport. Can you imagine a kitten in Running Man? Maybe it could hide for a while in one of the dumpsters or something because it's real little, but there's no way it would ever successfully run to its freedom without being stomped by Buzzsaw. He's great.

This inevitably gets me thinking about a lot of things, because let's face it, I'm a thinker. Like the statue, I'm always curled up in this position, just thinking and thinking until my head darn near explodes. In addition to being a thinker, I also watch lots of movies. I like The Matrix, and I like M. Night Shylamalam's work, and Jimmy Dean is pretty much my favorite actor (and sausage). Those guys make me think.

Anyways, during one of those thinking sessions, I got to thinking about my favorite movie, The Matrix. If you've never seen it, it's about this man named Neo who is actually a robot, but he doesn't know it yet. Neo's just living his life, riding motorcycles and knife-fighting, when all of a sudden he meets a little boy. The boy claims that he can see robots, and I guess no one else can see them or something. So Neo and the boy become fast friends (it's kinda creepy in a molestation sort of way) , except there's one catch: the boy and this black dude are competing for Neo's attention, and the black dude wants him to take some pills. Neo's kinda standoffish about the whole thing, like "Why should I do what you tell me?" and he storms out of the house with the boy and they ride his motorcycle into the sunset.

So at that point you're thinking, wow, that Neo is pretty rebellious. But then, once Neo and the boy run out of gas, the boy drops a bomb and he goes "Neo, you're a robot." So Neo drops to his knees and he's all "NOOOOOO!" and the camera zooms out real dramatic to show that Neo's in a desert by himself. Then he runs away back to the black dude and leaves the boy who betrayed him in the dust, like a total conformist. Then Neo goes, "I understand now," and he takes the blue pill, I think, or maybe the red. I don't think it matters because it's obvious that the black dude just wants to get Neo hooked, either way. Then out of nowhere Neo goes on this big-ass trip with dojos and all these green numbers all over the place and he thinks he can fly. It's obvious that he's really high. And then I fell asleep but at the end of the movie he flies away wearing this big cape, which must mean that he's like a super-upgraded robot now or something.

Anyways, I think it's pretty obvious that the moral of The Matrix is that really, in your life, who can you trust? If you can't trust innocent young boys, and you can't trust drug dealers, then really, what's the point?

Yours in Christ,
Mike

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Mirror, Mirror on the Facebook Wall

As autumn’s leaves prepare to blanket our roads, and the days begin to cool, the authors of the blog are reminded of something Mark Twain once said: “fuckin’ summer’s gone.”

That’s right folks. Fuckin’ summer’s gone.

But let us not dwell on the passing of this season, because it has been the first to expose a certain phenomenon previously unknown to billions. With the Facebook Empire being used to stay in touch with old friends, shamelessly promote blog posts, and to create mini-farms of meaningless 32 bit carrots, our love affair with the website has revealed a new concern of catastrophic proportions. The following is truth:

Girls are a lot better looking on Facebook than we remember them being in real life.

I mean, really. She did not used to be hot. You mean to tell me in the three years that we’ve been going to different schools that all the women I knew suddenly decided it was time to put on really fashionable clothes and take 45 degree angle pictures of themselves from 3 feet away? This appears to be the case.

This initial jolt of surprise sure to come to any male, ages little bro to mid-life crisis, is not pure. You see, it is a trick. These women have not in fact become supermodels – they have learned to use technology to their advantage.

Allow me to explain.

There are three factors that have led to this “computahotness,” (term patent pending). The first is directly caused by Facebook. The option to de-tag pictures has created a process we’re calling “technological selection.” By only allowing friends and cohorts to view pictures that show one in a favorable light, one creates a mental image totally built on a partial truth. It’s like going to Dunkin’ Donuts and seeing a chocolate sprinkled donut from the side, making the purchase, and then realizing the other side is actually coconut. Ew.

The second such issue has been previously mentioned. A wise man – that’s you K Kwon – once told an author of this blog, “Hmm… I don’t know. Seems like she knows what angles she looks good at.” Taking this observation under consideration, the authors found that many girls do in fact take many, many pictures from THE EXACT same angle. Like the sweet spot on a baseball bat, they’ve figured out the exact trigonometric requirements that present them in the hottest lies. Outrageous!

Finally, women are appearing more attractive on the internets for a reason that has nothing to do with us fellas. Did you know that all women hate each other? That shit is the truth. They may have friends with whom they get along famously, but there’s a deep, underlying Melrose Place thing going on (I’m assuming--who the hell remembers what happened on Melrose Place? But damnit all if there’s going to be a Gossip Girl reference on the Sometimes). As it turns out, women are engaged in a civil gender war in which they don’t want to leak any compromising information to the enemy. They stay protected by presenting themselves favorably in pictures on the internet and in person at box socials. Again, this shit is the truth. This is the first reporting The Chicago Sometimes has ever done, so we’re not going to risk it on a lie.

So there you have it. The next time you see the picture of a 6 looking like a solid 8.3, just remember, there’s a good chance of hijinx taking place – And that 7 8 9.

Poke you later kiddies,
Tapan Jones

Monday, July 27, 2009

Our Children are Doomed

So I was watching KEWLopolis on CBS last weekend, when it occurred to me that KEWLopolis really sucks. First, there's this show "Dinosquad," in which a bunch of high school stereotypes can morph into dinosaurs in order to save the world from this other guy who's actually a 65 million-year-old anthropomorphic velociraptor and the CEO of a Fortune 500 company called Raptor Dyne. Then there's something all too literally called "Sushi Pack": "Four pieces of sushi and a wad of wasabi jolted to life--doing what's right to protect the citizens of Wharf City!"

But here's the catch: these pieces of salmon egg sushi, crab sushi, tuna sushi, octopus sushi, and wasabi operate out of a donut shop that their best friend, Ben, owns. If ever there was a delicious combo, it was sushi and donuts. Why don't any of the characters actually look like sushi? Why is the octopus wearing an eye patch?

If I cut random pages out of a dictionary, threw them in a hat, let my dog shit in the hat, pulled out the five shittiest pages, blindfolded myself, and pointed to 22 random words, those 22 words combined into a sentence couldn't possibly make a worse concept for a show than "Four pieces of sushi and a wad of wasabi jolted to life--doing what's right to protect the citizens of Wharf City!"

Childrens' shows today are an insult to children. Back in what I believe to be the Golden Age of childrens' programming, shows like: Ren and Stimpy, the Rugrats, Recess, Hey Arnold, and Doug presided over our hearts and minds with a now-legendary style and grace. In an effort to show just how horrible kids' shows are these days, I'm pitting what I believe to be the worst of the worst from my day against their analogous (and actually popular) shows of today. Guess who wins.

Gullah Gullah Island vs. The Backyardigans

Gullah Gullah Island starred some inexplicably Jamaican folk living on an island off the coast of South Carolina. It indoctrinated me and, presumably, the tens of twenties of other kids who watched it, into the stereotype that all people living on islands are Jamaican. Don't remember it? There was also a giant, talking, yellow frog named Binyah Binyah that they kept locked out in the backyard because seriously, IT'S A GIANT, TALKING FROG. If I wasn't seven years old in 1995, I would've been scared out of my fucking mind of that show.


However, this thing called "The Backyardigans" might be worse. My premilinary research indicates that the show is about some kids who may or may not be dinosaurs having pseudo-adventures fueled by "imagination power" in their shared backyard. Aside from the fact that it stars communist dinosaurs who are clearly huffing glue, this show sucks because the names of the kids are Pablo, Tyrone, Uniqua, Tasha, and Austin. Uniqua? That name insults me both as a black man and as an individual. I hold this show singularly responsible for the recent rash of horrible baby names like Skylar and Taryn and Jaden.


ADVANTAGE: Gullah Gullah Island

My Little Pony vs. Horseland

Now I wasn't the type of kid that ever watched My Little Pony, but I know that several of my female colleagues enjoyed the show. That's what they tell me. I've never seen it. However, I do know that there were like a million of those little toy ponies with the hair that you could comb into almost any style you could dream up in your horribly confused five-year-old mind. Actually, I'm not sure those were My Little Ponies.

In any case, that pony in the background is surfing on a fucking rainbow. It's gonna be hard to top that, Horseland. Plus, this pony in the foreground is clearly willing to do almost anything for money. Awesome.

Horseland, on the other hand, is a show geared toward your serious business 7-year-old pony enthusiast. It's on KEWLopolis, and it sucks. Normal kids' shows feature crazy adventures and outlandish situations and characters, but Horseland stars a bunch of waspy bitches going to a ranch, riding horses, and enterting them into competitions. If I'm gonna waste my valuable Saturday morning watching cartoons, I'd watch crime-fighting sushi over Country Club 101 one hundred times out of one hundred and one.

Advantage: My Little Pony

As you can see, the shows from my era won 2-0. This proves, without a doubt, that every kids' show made after 2000 is terrible. I rest my case.

Love,
Mike

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

A Tip For Everyone

Just a heads up folks, this post is not about Michael Jackson. It’s not about his singing, his dancing, or his rocky road (ice cream method) with children. This post is about something that I’ve had it up to internet-here with.

There’s been an ever increasing trend among every single person I know to start becoming awful at taking compliments, and it’s manifesting itself in the worst god damn way. What’s troubling about this, is that most of you know me to be your future angry-man-in-hover-rocking-chair yelling at children about how things were “in my day, you lousy ingrates,” which is fine, because that’s exactly how I’ve tried to fashion the events in my life leading up to that glorious moment. So if I give you a compliment, or make a comment in regards to something you’ve accomplished, just tip your hat to me and say “why thank you, oh kind sir.”

Do not reply in the following manner. Don’t look down and to your left, slightly furrow your brow, lift one side of your mouth, wait 2 seconds, and say in the most dickway possible “…Not really.”

Hey asshole, I’m being nice! I even bought you the hat so you could tip it at me! You never once said thank you, you son of a bitch.

Perfect example. A buddy of mine, who will soon hereafter figure out I’m speaking of him, (yes Ryan), and proceed to bitch at me until eventually working his go to move of “you know what? Tapan? You know what?” told me a story. So one long, very fucking uneventful tale later, the man lets me know that he made one hell of a drive in order to go see this fine lookin’ miss thang. Upon hearing that, I replied in a pride-filled voice by saying, “Damn dude, nice, that’s one hell of a drive.” And that little slut not-really’d me.

What does that accomplish? Not-really’ers of the world, you’re actually asking people to apologize for a compliment? Motherfuckers what the fuck?

On that note I make a plea to all of you. End this madness. Too many people are getting AIDS from your attitude, and really, no one wants AIDS from your attitude. At least the unprotected sex has it’s momentary

pleasure, you’re just rubbing people the wrong way.

So tomorrow when you wake up and hear a compliment, look that person right in the eyes and do the hat tip. Not wearing a hat? Feel free to dig through your neighborhood lost and found, you’d be amazed at the number of “repeat-threepeat” hats people have had the audacity to lose over the last 11 years.

Until next tim…. Oh actually.

For those of you wondering why this post took so long, it’s because Mike Bogart is a selfish man that ignores you folks, and would sooner burn down an orphanage than meet a blog deadline. God, what an asshole.

And now, until next time b’s and g’s (you can figure out which letter is male and which one is female on your own time, it’ll be a fun little game). ,

Tapan Jones

Friday, June 5, 2009

超 級 愉 快 的 意 想 不 到 blog 崗 位

Super Happy Fantastic Blog Post!!

Asia is a pretty big place, and it’s the band that gave us the timeless classic “Heat of the Moment.” You know, “it was the heeeeeeeeeeat of the moment.”

Anyway, Asian people have been on the mind lately. In my constant efforts to observe the Asian people - see: weird British hunter following the Geico gecko – I think I may have stumbled across a few universal truths. Sure, the three things I’ve found can be argued, but if you want to argue them, go to hell. I don’t have the time. My Asian brethren have taught me the newly invented (probably Japanese) technique of efficiency. Hai!

Alright, time for the truths three. At this point, loyalists are probably asking themselves, “What, already? This whole damn blog is fluff and he’s already cutting to the chase? What a hack.” Be calm my friends, tai chi it out for a second and then come back to read these.

Truths:

Number 1) You always see Asian girls dating all types of guys, but you barely ever see an Asian guy with anyone besides an Asian girl.

This observation falls under the square-rectangle category. We’re led to believe a couple things right off the bat. For one, to all the male readers, your dreams of one day hooking up with that fine Asian girl that draws Pokémon (still!) can be actualized, just be persistent and remember that they probably like guys with red hats with a white front and a green L on it. Not to be too specific or anything. But the other thing this observation hints at is the following: most Asian guys are bona fide Oedipus-following racists. Well probably not to that degree, but I tried to be dramatic enough that you’d be forced to read this sentence. But to continue, they’ve seen the successes of their forefathers and how bad ass every single one of their mothers is at cooking shit up in a matter of seconds, and they refuse to lower the bar for the white girl whose idea of authentic meals must involve a phone call to Kentucky Grilled Chicken. So to that I say, Asian guys, either lower your standards, or white girls up your game and figure lo-mein the fuck out.

Number 2) The Japanese don’t have a sufficient general knowledge of insects.

I can understand how this observation might bug you. (hold for laughter….)(….) and go. But look, it’s simple logic. The Japanese went all crazy during WW2 right? They were all about stirring things up and screaming banzai at the top of their lungs. They were so crazy that they figured they’d coin a term for the legitimate strategy of suicide bombing shit with their fighter pilots. However, if they knew what the average 3rd grader does, it would have been so much clearer that said term should have been “Kamikabee.” Fuckin, bees have been doing that shit since their existence, sting and die. Get with the program.

Number 3) EVERY single Asian male owns at least 1 shirt that just says the word ADIDAS and nothing else.

This one is so true I don’t have to back it up with photo evidence.

-------------------------------

And on that note, let it be known that the authors of this blog love our Asians, and are saying so to save ourselves from the eventual Chinese take-over of the world.

So to part using something only Asians would understand,

No QQ guys, gg,

Tapan and Mike


Tuesday, May 12, 2009

V-Power: Magnificent, or Just Awesome?

Ladies and Gentlemen,

Three years ago this past week, a company called V-Power Donuts was conceived, among other things, in a classroom at Naperville North High School. V-Power found its relatively inauspicious origins, which hardly forebade the mammoth economic impact it would later have on the school, in the hands of one V Kuznetsov, pictured at left, its CEO and namesake. V's emminently humanitarian vision was to bring the deserving, hungry young minds of Naperville North better doughnuts at a better price than what state budgetary constraints mandated they should have--a worthy endeavor, indeed.

Patton, Hannibal, even Sun Tzu himself would have marveled at V's plan to make his vision a reality. As Sun Tzu said, "What enables the wise sovereign and the good general to strike and conquer, and achieve things beyond the reach of ordinary men, is FOREKNOWLEDGE." Oh, V had foreknowledge alright. In fact, he might even have been called something of a double agent. V was a former employee of Dunkin' Donuts.

With the inside track on the Big Business doughnut world, V was able to put together a business plan far superior to that of Naperville North's vaunted in-house cafeteria food provider, Sodexho. The key pieces to V's plan were his four wonderkid Vice Presidents: Tapan Jani (Marketing), Mike Bogart (Operations), Yannick Kwan (Finance), and Ryan McNamara (Human Resources). With this powerhouse team of business mogul prodigies, there was no way V-Power could fail. And fail, it did not.

When the Fab Five, as they later came to be known, presented their business plan, their teacher, Carliss Harris, wept silent tears of joy. V-Power's biggest rival, some guys selling gum or something, gave a standing ovation. Local rapscalian Bardia Farzad even congratulated the Five on a job well done, the highest compliment of his on record. V-Power's business plan was not just a business plan, it was a heavenly work of art. It represented the raw, iconoclastic, uncensored vision of its founders, constantly contradicting itself, repeating ideas, and using poor grammar to great rhetorical effect. In short, V-Power took the world by storm. And, quite frankly, how could all this praise not have been piled on?

The reverberations of V-Power's groundbreaking Statement of Purpose ("Our purpose as a company is to make a profit by purchasing donuts at $3.50 a dozen, and selling them at a higher price to make a profit") are still felt in the halls of Naperville North to this day, and their landmark assessment of the key features of their product ("Our product, donuts, is not like any other product from student run companies. Its main characteristics that shape our day to day operations are: donuts spoil after about a day; donuts require ample storage space; donuts need to kept sanitary; donuts have to be ordered every day"), quoted for your reading pleasure in all its original glory, is still the gold standard by which student-run companies evaluate their products today.

As we'll see, each of the V-Power VP's had their own style.




Tapan Jani, pictured to the left, was the head of Marketing. Below is a slide from the Marketing Team's portion of the business plan presentation (entitled "V-Power: And the Survery Says") that changed the lives of so many. It depicts the results of the market research led by Tapan Jani, who was supported by his crack team of analysts--Iris Chen and Ryan Ronayne.


As you all can see, Tapan was one of the innovators of the now-standard practice of veiling the unimportance of superfluous market research in an ambiguous, unclear manner, using nebulous pie charts and unlabeled data sets. Not until Freddie Mac would the world see business being done on quite this high a level again.

This next slide shows Tapan's implementation of the ingenious technique of asking leading yes-or-no questions that he already knows the answer to. Only the best court-appointed trial lawyers have been able to master this technique, and even then, few do it as poetically as Tapan does here. Additionally, the question that he asks reaches inspiring new heights of vaguery:

Are we to interpret this as asking whether the customer gets too much doughnut for their dollar? Or is the "too much" simply a reiteration of the "too high" theme? I'll never know, but what I do know is that Tapan's confusing poll questions did wonders in helping V-Power delude its customers.

Along with their flawless research, the Marketing team also drew up some shrewd advertising campaigns. Instead of paying what they deemed to be ridiculous royalties that come with using copyrighted material, the team decided that the most cost-effective, least energy-intensive method of advertising would be to use material that other people had already created without permission. Thus, Homer Simpson, that time-honored magnate of doughnut fetishism, became the new spokesman for V-Power Donuts.




But Tapan wasn't the only one making waves. Over on the Operations side of things, Mike Bogart (left), along with his team consisting of the consummate hard-worker Mark Jaris and the ever-professional Nicole Nanneti, were blazing a trail that few, if any, had ever previously blazed. One such trail was their treatment of the sensitive issue of handling cash, again quoted in all its original glory for your reading pleasure:

"Cash Handling: All cash is to be kept in the provided cash box, bills in one stack but organized by value, and coins in a plastic bag. If we are running out of change,"

In an impressive feat of diplomacy, and, might I mention, an earth-shattering example of Postmodernism, or "Weird for the sake of weird" for the layperson, Mike decided to cleave his declaration of the cash handling policy in half, and leave the other half completely out of the final plan. In one fell swoop, Mike tactfully avoided the sticky area of employee theft altogether, and also made the cash handling policy, in two words, sublimely vague. It was so vague and unclear that no one could possibly be reprimanded for mishandling the cash. Postmodern, indeed.

Equally important, and less overtly controversial, though it did have its moments, was Mike's policy on "handling customers":

"Handling Customers: employees are never to be mean to customers. Try to be as nice as possible, but do not go beyond your jurisdiction without management approval. Most customer suggestions are valuable input, and should be recorded and mentioned to management. Use common sense, and provide the best customer service you can! Smile!"

In his ominous requirement for "management approval," Mike, with subtle, almost Freudian nuance, effectively asserts the dominance of the Fab Five over the affairs of V-Power. They ruled with an iron fist, but it was an iron fist that went disguised as puppies and ducklings until it punched you in the face. Further, on a somewhat contrary note, Mike again goes against the conventional "customer is always right" wisdom, noting that "most customer suggestions are valuable." This flies in the face of conventional economics going all the way back to Ray Kroc, and it just goes to show that if nothing else, the Operations portion of the business plan illuminated the eccentric nature of the Fab Five, a nature that is inherent to geniuses the world over.




Yannick Kwan, or Y2K, as he was known during his Fab Five days, headed up the Finance Department, which also housed esteemed mathematicians Kat Yoh and Jon Talarek. What the Finance Department lacked in substance, they made up for in brevity. They were the ultimate minimalists, epitomizing (in a successful attempt at irony) the buttoned-down, number-crunching, ultimately soulless world of finance. Here is a sample from their "Projected Income Statement":

"After selling for 11 days, we have made a total of $369.46 from sales from selling doughnuts at the prices of $0.50 per doughnut or $5 per dozen. We have also spent $14.70 on Napkins for our customers and $10.00 on a Jamba Juice gift card which is part of our promotional campaign with the winner receiving this gift card."

Yannick had inside information on the failed attempt to trademark the word "napkin" as a brand name before the general public did, so he capitalized it here, prematurely (and, ultimately, embarrassingly) honoring his good friends at Solo. Yannick also defied verb tense, ironically (he was a master of irony) creating tension between the tenses.



Finally, there was the Human Resources Department, headed by VP Ryan McNamara (left), who was supported by the all-world cast of Matt Kerr and Annette Vacval. Macky, a term of endearment for McNamara that was popular with the shareholders, oversaw the creation of the V-Power Bylaws, as well as the Code of Conduct. Ironically (Macky was also an ironic genius), Article 6 of the Bylaws states:

"Article 6 - Product: Our CEO will go to Dunkin' Donuts every morning for a new batch of donuts for the day. The dozens of donuts will be paid with the company profits. During the selling period, the sellers will be handling the product safely, making sure that none of the product is stolen."

Here, Macky (with his tongue planted firmly in his cheek) equates net profits with gross revenue, stating that V-Power would buy their products using their profits. Of course, what the astute reader will pick up on is that the profits a company makes are determined only after their expenses have been factored into the equation. Macky pushed the ironic envelope to the brink, highlighting what he believed to be the sorry state of the business world today. He was a passionate man, and he pointed out unequivocally that some people in business today really don't know the difference between revenue and profit.

Macky also draws a chilling portrait of the stark contrast between supply and demand with his economical (pun intended) use of prepositions. In the first sentence of Article 6 (which has come to be known in religious circles as the "Doomsday Article"), Macky uses three prepositions, lulling readers into a false sense of security. They believe that they have all the prepositions they could ever need, but in the next two sentences combined, there are only three total prepositions. Macky even leaves out a "for" where there should have been one in the second sentence, just to reinforce his idea that no one can get complacent, that everyone must be constantly vigilant. Macky was, undoubtedly, the philosopher-warrior of the group.




The renown that the Fab Five and their business plan has received over the years is largely based on their groundbreaking work in the fields of vagueness and irony. The plan is regarded not only as the superlative business plan of the 21st century, but also as a bold, shocking statement against the efficiency, clarity, and overall effectiveness of contemporary business models. No doubt, it will soon take its rightful place amongst the greatest works of all time in the canon of Western literature.

And how was all of this planning actually applied on Judgment Day, you ask?

Flawlessly.

In the end, each employee of V-Power made a 1400% increase on their capital investment. Yes, I said 1400%. Those are Berkshire Hathaway numbers. And that's not even taking into account the well-deserved bonuses that each VP paid out to himself. Truly, V-Power Donuts was a sight that the world had never seen before, and one that it will likely never have the pleasure of seeing again.

May 8th is the symbolic inauguration day of V-Power, as the real day that they launched doughnut operations has been lost to the annals of history. We ask you, loyal TCS readers, in honor of the landmark achievements of V-Power Donuts, to celebrate every May 8th as National V-Power Appreciation Day.

Please, go out, buy a donut, and think of V-Power while you eat it. Thank you, and goodnight.

Regards,
Tapan + Mike

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

With the First Pick: Mel "The Vampire" Kiper

Those familiar with the authors of TCS are often surprised that more sports-related materials are not discussed in its pages. "What? The biggest Chicago sports fans I know don't blog about Chicago sports? I am confused and outraged."

So to you, the three out of our six total readers, we offer up a quick little post on the upcoming NFL draft. It's been brought to our attention that Mel Kiper, Jr., ESPN's draft expert extraordinaire, looks exactly like a vampire. And you know what? We totally agree.


Not just that, but we've made a little observation of our own. That's right, we've noticed that this man looks directly related to the character of Clem from that timeless gem of a film: Joe Dirt. Observe the hair.


So this April 25th, when you're kicking back watching each selection go by exactly as Mel predicted, just realize that some vampires can see the future.

Peace out homeboys and girls,

Mike + Tapan