Language Barrier Prevents Fist Fight

(An English teacher and a Chinese Student are eating lunch in a restaurant in China. They finish, and the Chinese Student notices that English Teacher has not cleaned his plate)

Student: You waste food. You are a typical American!

Teacher: That’s not very nice. How would you like it if I called you a “typical Chinese”?

Student: But I am typical Chinese.

Teacher: That’s not what I…ugh. Never mind.

Progressive student alliance shows support for Palestine, Israel shakes with fear

As Israel continues its assault on Gaza, the international community turns its eyes to that nexus of geopolitical thought, the University of Tennessee, where dwells a caustic band of renegades known by some as the Progressive Student Alliance.

These intellectual rogues held a day of solidarity with Palestine, and thus it was spoke.

Israel retreated within hours of hearing the news. They agreed that no matter how much the terrorist groups attack them, no matter how many Israeli citizens die, they will take on the surrounding region peacefully, a region that has no intention of ever establishing peace with what they deem to be an illegal state. A Jewish state, that religion they so hate.

At this day of solidarity, our rebellious scholars gathered together and…and… did what exactly? Stood? Check. Talked about that conservative they PWNED in a shouting match? Check. Looked at each other? Check. Breathing? ✔✔. Anything else? They also… ….

Am I missing something?

I have few hopes, but I sincerely hope that half…no, make that all of the members of the Progressive Student Alliance are only there for the free coffee. And the occasional pizza.

In an eco-friendly box of course.

And don’t even suggest a major pizza chain like Dominoes. Please. Go take your prole-hating ass elsewhere, narc.

We’re trying to enjoy our Starbucks frappucinos.

http://tnjn.com/2009/jan/15/protesters-show-support-for-pa/

He forgot his profile photo. What else is on?

There is one kind of person who likes Facebook: someone who believes that everyone is watching them. An audience is watching their every move on television, ledger in hand, ready to jot down notes on their performance.

And if you don’t fill out your entire profile, they set the DVR and go play tennis.

They have to believe they’re important and people are envious in order to feel good about themselves. Facebook reinforces this. So, they love Facebook.

I have never liked Facebook, a sentiment I have expressed many times, several in these columns, and yet, it came as a surprise to my friends when I deleted my account. I got an email.

“Dude you deleted your Facebook! But how can I keep in touch with you?”

I didn’t tell him. Perhaps he’ll figure it out, American high school education be damned.

If you’ve never kicked the rabid narcissist habit, then you’re in for a treat. On the deletion page, they confront you with photos in which you and a friend mutually appear, and above each photo it reads [friend’s name] will miss you.

Above this, it reads [# of friends] will not be able to keep in touch with you. Mine read: 524 friends will not be able to keep in touch with you. Oh. I guess 524 friends do not have email, a telephone, or hell, a simple desire to visit. Shame. Who knew Facebook was so powerful?

As the number 5 most trafficked site (including search engines), you have to wonder why so many people visit. Is it…

The content? No. There is none. YOU create it.

The design? No. There is a basic template. The rest? YOU create it.

The purpose of the site? The entire website is about YOU. Take a look. YOUR photos, YOUR interests, YOUR notes, YOUR thoughts, YOU-YOU-YOU-YOU.

They even admit that YOU are the purpose of the site, and for once, they’re telling the truth. Sort of. What do they have to gain by offering these delusional egomaniacs a free lunch?

The next time you’re logged on, look to your right or left. See that? That’s an advertisement. How did it get there?

Money. The more people who sign up, the more they can demand from advertisers. Money.

Aside from the guilt trip they lay on you, they also target your love of god and country. The ‘Deactivate Account’ (notice it’s Deactivate and not ‘delete’—you can REactivate at any time. All systems ready to go) button is colored red.

Red. As in Communism which = Anti-Americanism. You have to remember that when Reagan penned the Constitution, he did so with Anti-Communism in mind. God bless.

By leaving and depriving them of potential advertising revenue, you’re being anti-American.

If the Facebook overlords are not true Americans, then who is? Fuck, I feel bad.

Back to the egomaniacs for the closer, you can tell which ones fit the bill by watching their status messages, in which people are supposed to broadcast to the entire world (and in many of their minds, it is indeed the entire world) what they are doing that very moment.

You see these people… ____ got the job!!! Or ____ is taking the MCAT/LSAT/GRE.

Oooh, ____ has so many options. I am so jealous.

Here’s one of my favorites:

____ is cramping badly.

And ____ is female.

____ is really having a moment, she thinks she will just cry and get it over with

May I ask what the fucking point is in these types of messages? Are we supposed to comment, give you attention, and soothe your wounds? Are we really supposed to care about some vague, whiny scrawl?

For many, using Facebook is like smoking. And while there is no proven link between Facebook use and cancer, I’m working on it. When I find it, I’ll let you know.

But not in a status message.

Restroom Follies – interrupting a social activity

Picture a sign in Beijing reading “Public Toilets”. I head into the little crevice and turn in the door. The voices hit my ears. The sight rapes my eyes.

There are four square toilets, as close together as desks in a classroom. No stalls. No privacy whatsoever. A man squatted over each, shitting and talking. Presumably after eating and talking.

The after-dinner dump is a social activity.

I stumble back and immediately zap myself with my Men in Black Neuralyzer that I just happened to have on me. I hunch over and rub my eyes. My mind clear, all I can remember is that I have to pee.

So I head to the door.

Restroom Follies – Learning how to hold it

Picture a restroom the size of an Ihop booth. A squat toilet in the middle, two urinals on each wall nearly touching, no privacy whatsoever. Now picture it full of people.

This is what I saw at a restaurant. I step inside, and there are guys at the urinals and a guy squatting over the middle toilet. Taking a shit.

I gasp and start to back away, but that Chinese hospitality comes into play and he points at a urinal, smiles, and waves me inside. No, it’s okay.

There’s plenty of room.

I politely shake my head while turning away and retreating back to my table. I can hold it. Later on, when I’m sure there’s no one coming or going, I return. The smell hits my nose. The sight hits my eyes.

A pile of shit covers the squat toilet. A big pile. The kind that would fill up one of our Western toilets. A dung heap that signifies the presence of a sick triceratops.

I can hold it some more.

Facebook doesn’t like quitters

I recently deleted my Facebook account.  Here’s a sample of the deactivation page:

facebooksmaller21

It looks like 524 friends don’t have a phone or email or hell, a working brain, a working mouth and a desire to visit.  Who knew Facebook was so powerful?

Goodbye interaction with other people.  We had a lot of good memories.

Judy’s Advice for Gays & Maria the Enabler

These are both from the China Blog, but I like them, so I won’t deny them to you. Because your likes = my likes, am I right?

Judy’s Advice for Gays

I’m teaching the English majors on Monday afternoon and I ask them about gay marriage. There is a little silence, and then “Judy” raises her hand.

Judy: They have a problem. They should go see the doctor.

I sure hope none of her friends come out to her.

Maria the Enabler

I had started smoking regularly and I mentioned to Maria that I wanted to quit.

Maria: Why?

I asked her off-hand what she thinks about guys who smoke. I already had a good idea. I just wanted her words on the subject.

Maria: I think it’s good. I see no problem with it.

Last weekend, we were supposed to visit a friend’s apartment and have wine. She asked if we should bring a gift. I mentioned cigarettes, but then wondered whether or not he smoked.

Maria: It doesn’t matter. If he does not smoke, you can still smoke them.

And for my birthday, she joined us at KTV. She brought along a present and I immediately unwrapped it.

An ashtray.

Well I have to use it, don’t I? Otherwise it’s rude.

You could call it a reality check

You see these people who push causes like “Gay is not a synonym for stupid”, with “not” capitalized, an artistic touch for sure. They also push “America is not a single country; it’s a continent”, a middle finger to those villains who threaten us by embracing a natural semantic shift. Godspeed.

I have noticed a few common features:

- they’re rich.
- They’re in college.
- They voted for Obama in the last election because he’s the “liberal” candidate. A step above or below “because I’m Democrat”; I can’t tell.
- They’re majoring in some humanities field.

The last one is really important. Fast-forward five years, when they’ve graduated with said degree and find themselves doing the same fucking job they did in high school.

Let’s see how much someone referring to the USA as America offends them then.

Bend over, here comes change

Cling to your guns while you still can. Comrade Obama has won.

The reactions of the anti-Obama crowd all fall into different stages of grieving.

It was Dr. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross who said that we as humans deal with grief in five stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally, acceptance, with a dash of hope.

Grief comes in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes it’s huge, like when you lose a loved one or a rabid lion mauls your pet elf, and his ears are no longer the right pointy size thus depriving him of his elf status.

Sometimes it’s small, like when you lose your favorite piece of gum, the one you’ve kept since kindergarten. And if you stick your tongue in the right spot, you swear you can still taste that strawberry flavor. You swear it.

Sometimes loved ones, sometimes possessions, sometimes pets, and every four years, a presidential election.

Five stages of grief. Some are farther along than others. I have outlined the stages with examples.

Denial

Here with the subjects we see an almost childlike refusal to believe that a dark man with an un-American name has captured the Presidency. Like when you insist that Santa Claus is real and Mommy is making it all up.

Only more pathetic.

“I can’t believe that Anti-Christ is President!”

You can take comfort from the fact that soon your God will beam all of you good, Christian folk up to eternal paradise. So don’t fret. Actually, why are you worried to begin with? If you believe in the Christian end times and you believe that Obama is the anti-Christ, why are you against him? If the end result (get it? End result? LOL!!1) is beneficial to you, shouldn’t you have voted for him? Maybe killed a few McCainiacs, just to close the gap?

Where’s your dedication? Take one for the team!

Anger

“Bend Over Here Comes Change. Nobama ‘12″

No brilliant commentary here. I just really love this one. Isn’t it great?

Bargaining

“If we can prove he’s not a natural-born citizen, we can remove him from office!”

With a name like “Barack Obama”, smart money says he’s from out of town. Way out of town.

The above quote helped, in part, fuel Impeach Obama Facebook groups. Yes, within hours of his election, angry citizens turned to the one place where true change resonates: a social networking website.

I wonder how many McCain supporters blocked (or banished) Obama supporters and vice versa. If these quotes are any indication of their intelligence, something tells me it was a high number. I hope so.

Anyways:

“People do not lose hope entirely…He still has not proven he is a citizen of the US. Please pray for our country…God knows we need it”

First you prayed for McCain/Palin to win. Now you’re praying for the country.

It’s safe to say there is not much of a learning curve with you people.

“All that matters is that we IMPEACH IMMEDIATELY”

In other words, it’s now or never, my brothers. How many of these groups exist? I quit counting at 120.

Depression

Here the subjects come closer to accepting reality, which brings on a bout of prolonged sadness.

“I am ashamed of America for the first time in my life”

“I am disappointed in my beloved country!”

“[redacted] wishes her husband wasn’t from Ohio :(

They’re depressed. Sad. Down in the dumps, downtown with a frown, they’re feeling rather blue. Pop a couple Zoloft, or try and sit it out, because following depression comes…

Acceptance

404 ERROR.

No one is quite there yet, it seems.

They’ll get here if they can stop buying the same brand of hate that the Republicans promoted during the election and realize that there are legitimate reasons to dislike Obama, but “socialist!”, “communist!”, “negro!” and “Muslim!” are not.

So they’ll never reach this stage.

The Republicans failed for many reasons. I won’t blame Sarah “Vice President?” Palin. After all, who among us has not received a blessing from a witch doctor? Who among us can actually recall that day in fifth grade social studies where they explained the role of a Vice President? Precisely.

I blame whoever decided that this hateful single-digit IQ religious fundamentalist was a great tool to grab the disenfranchised Hillary Clinton maniacs. Did you really think they’d just switch from a bad candidate to the worst one imaginable?

Well, Obama, it’s in your hands now. When you drop it, try not to break it.

Because they’re already talking Palin 12. It worries me, but let’s look on the bright side.

By then she ought to know what a President does.

And who knows? Maybe her ABCs too? Godspeed, Wasilla’s finest. Godspeed.

Charity

Today I donated my extra pinkie to a man with three fingers.

I feel no attachment to it, so I do not miss it in the least.