Time Out! (330)

So a few months ago (the last time I had any time to think), Jackson told me he’d be willing to illustrate some of my blogs when he had free time.  When I sent him my idea on time travel he came back with a Zack Morris “time out” drawing idea that sounded pretty funny, but didn’t really fit my time travel patents and currency conversion theme.  However, this did get me thinking about another topic that had been festering in my brain for about, oh…two decades.  Like the dude from A Bronx Tale said, there’s nothing worse than wasted talent.  Zack Morris happens to finish in the top three of my biggest violators of wasted talent.

It’s Good to be the King

The late Kim Jung Il, ranks up there among the most deranged tyrannical dictators, which is a difficult task since most dictators are deranged, and I think by definition, tyrannical.  Despite the fact that he ruled an entire half of a country, he still felt the need to make people understand how great he was, even if he had to lie (gasp).  There were stories in the press of his first golf outing, in which he shot around a 36 with four holes in one.  I guess when you control everything your countrymen watch, read, and listen to, you can convince them that you’re a pre-sex-crazed Tiger Woods and Super Man poured into a tiny old man frame with giant women’s sunglasses.  Although he had the power to make his people believe anything, he did a sub-par job in convincing them that their international sports teams were decent.  When the women’s soccer team lost in the Olympics, the paper reported that the entire team was struck by lightning, leading to a sluggish performance.  While understandably believable, this was lazy on the part of Il.  When you have the power to make the people believe anything, why not just tell them the Olympics is going to be held in North Korea that year.  An entire fake Olympics could have been staged, and every team/athlete from South Korea would win the gold.  Shit, Kim Jung Il would take home the gold for boxing, the long jump, and the floor exercise.  This was extremely disappointing on the part of Il.  Clearly we all should have known his health was deteriorating when he wasn't wracking up fake gold medals in the fake 2008 Olympics.  We were blind.  But at least our country is good at stuff…sometimes.

I’ll Stop the World

Zack Morris could stop time!  He could stop the entire effing universe from progressing forward!  And what did he do with this power?  He made witty asides to television audiences.  That’s it.  Really, that’s pretty much all he did with this.  He never once called a time out to get every single answer to every single test he ever took throughout his entire high school career, to graduate with a 4.0 GPA, 1600 SAT, and a scholarship to Stanford.  At no point did he ever drive the lane, call a time out, reposition the defense, and score an easy lay-up to win the state championship and break an all time scoring record.  He never once made a bet, and when the time was running out and his team was losing, go to his bookie’s notebook and change his pick to win 18 grand.  Never, not once, did he call a time out to put some jacked dude’s leg out so that it would trip a hot chick, then call series of time outs so that it would look like he beat up said jacked dude, thus making the hot chick want to make out with him. WHY?!?!  Was this guy the dumbest 20 year old high school kid in the history of bad daytime young adult programming?  I honestly could never watch the show for more than ten minutes without getting furious, and I was 11 years old.  What a waste. 

He’s a Maniac

Dr. Wiley spent his entire lifetime building evil robots for one reason or another.  From what I could understand Mega Man was pretty much the only half man/robot that could stop him.  After all the hours put into conceiving, designing, manufacturing, and implementing these robots, he then had to be the architect of a multitude of layers and fortresses.  Much to his dismay, no matter how difficult he made the layers, and no matter how strong he made his killer robots, Mega Man always triumphed.  While I give the Doctor major props for being able to escape at the end of each game, or at least in the period between sequels, there has always been a major flaw in his strategy.  At times Wiley made some very difficult jumping sequences in several of his levels.  One that comes to mind is the Heat Man disappearing block sequence.  It took a good deal of time to master the order of disappearing and reappearing blocks.  Many lives were lost to the lava.  However, a few hours on a rainy Saturday and you could get through it.  Even better, if you had that rocket dog, you could just jump on his back and ride if straight to Wiley’s skull shaped fortress.  So, the question is: If you designed the level, WHY THE HELL DID YOU PUT IN DISAPPEARING BLOCKS?!?!?!  How about, oh I don’t know, no blocks at all!  Make the lava gap long enough so that that dumb rocket dog can’t reach the other side, and then you’re safe from Mega man forever.  That could have been it: Mega Man 2 (The Final Chapter).  Now of course, that would have robbed us all from experiencing Pharaoh Man, but really this stupidity just undermined all of my Mega Man accomplishments in the long run. Where did Dr. Wiley get his PhD from anyway, the University of Phoenix? 

1.21 Jigawats (410)



Now that we’re less than three years away from hover-boards, flying cars, and a drastic realignment of Major League Baseball enabling the Marlins to beat the Cubs in the 2015 World Series, mainstream access to time travel can’t be far behind.  Despite charging my crack team of scientists with inventing time travel over eight years ago, results have been sparse.  Lead scientist Dr. E. Pimpinella has yet to produce a single hypothesis that has proven useful.  Frankly, I’m thinking of reassigning him to work on Dr. Hammer Jones’s matter transportation device, which has met similar pitfalls.  I’m beginning to think that I may not be able to make my fortune off the patent of this device, despite my relentless funding.  However, this does not mean that there are not profits to be made from time travel.  I have developed several potential ventures that are ripe for profit once the time travel market gets off the ground.  These ideas should prove to be much more fruitful, largely due to the fact that I won’t have to prod my way through particle physics equations.  It gets tricky with all them numbers.  Below are some of my better ideas to date.  Investors are wanted.

Who Gives an F about an Oxford Comma?



Mike Jackson

For decades, high school and college students alike have been forced to read E.B White’s Elements of Style.  Who the hell made E.B. White the spokesperson for correct grammar?  His claim to fame is writing a book about a talking pig.  I know Orwell did it too, but at least his book was a metaphor.  Regardless, E.B. White’s grandchildren are likely rolling around in cash like that glutton Templeton rolls around in carnival garbage due to the copyright on a 90 year old grammar guide.  This must change.  Once time travel is commonly used, there will be a need for a new tense.  A tense that Professor Nolan and myself have formulated and socialite Jon Kelly has helped champion: the futient.  The futient tense solves an obvious gap in the post time travel lexicon.  Let’s say you traveled five days into the future.  While there, you punch Rick Santorum in the face.  After bowing and reveling in your standing ovation, you hurry back to your time machine to elude the authorities.  When you get back, you want to tell all your friends about your adventure.  What do you say?  Do you say, “In five days, I will have punched Rick Santorum in the face?”  That would be the future perfect tense.  This means that after five days passes you will have punched Rick Santorum in the face.  While this is true, it can easily be confused.  The future perfect is already used to mean you will have accomplished something at some point in the future.  However, this does not assume that you have actually  already completed the task in the future.  For instance, I could say, “By tomorrow night I will have gotten over my hangover.”  However, I have not traveled through time and gotten over my hangover.  I am simply assuming  by that point I will have gotten over it.  The futient eliminates this assumption and confirms certainty.  The futient is constructed by simply adding “will” before the past tense of a verb.  Unlike the future perfect it would not include “have” or “had” between “will” and the past tense of the verb.  For instance: “I will punched Rick Santorum in the face.”  I am not planning on doing this.  I have actually already punched him…in the future.  Needless to say, the development of this tense will become increasingly useful, and since I am one of only three experts in the matter, I stand to make a great deal of money off of A.W. Barlich’s Components of Sounding Pretty Sweet.  I’ll even throw a few dollars in Nolan and Jon Kelly’s direction.

Lawyers, Guns, and Money…and Copyright Infringement



The more I thought about my style guide, the more worried I was that Nolan would simply travel back in time before I had it copyrighted, and copyright it for himself.  Then, in turn, I would go back and do the same thing.  This would go on and on until one of us got eaten by a dinosaur.  This would likely be the case with most inventions and works of art.  This brings about an entire new post time travel market: Forensic Patent Law.  Patent attorneys tend to be dry, monotone melvins, but in the future I picture them more akin to Indiana Jones.  Picture a team of time traveling investigators with briefcases full of blueprints, solving mysteries.  America’s best and brightest will be lining up to get into Forensic Patent Law.  Who really invented the Burrito Shotgun?  If you want legally binding proof, call the law firm of Barlich, Barlich, Barlich, and Barlich, and also Barlich.  Sure, I may not have a law degree, but as far as I know you don’t have to be a lawyer to own a law firm.  I won’t need to practice.  As long as I get my firm on the market first and lock up the top talent, I should be able to coast off of reputation alone.  And if I need a law degree, I’ll just go back in time to 2005 to take the LSAT.  Then I’ll just time travel three years into the future when I’m done with the bar.  I’ll be back just in time to see the Phillies win the 2008 World Series again. 

Brother Could You Spare $1.8 Billion US



Another one of my initial plans was to save up all my money for one year, travel back to 1841, and buy the United States.  It would have been great.  My face would have been on all the money, our National Anthem would have been the theme from Team America, I would ban sports in the state of New York (and Northern New Jersey just as a precaution).  However, again I realized that there would be many others with the same idea.  Next thing I know The Republic of Nolania is firing nukes at me, and now I’ve got to buy Canada.  Nobody wants that.  That’s when I realized all of this inflated currency can’t make its way through time.  There has to be a financial institution that can covert your cash into the currency of the time period to which you are traveling.  The new currency would be called Time Travelers Checks.  You’ve got $4,000 in US2012?  Here’s $0.03 in US1841.  Enjoy typhoid.  Is that $10 in US2012?  That will be $3 billion in US2083.  You’ll look great in silver.  There are plenty of financial institutions that already deal in currency futures.  My plan would be to recruit the top executives to head the board for Time Travelers Checks.  All I need to do is raise capital and I’m essentially a billionaire within a few years of the first time traveler.  How will currency smuggling and fraud be enforced you ask?  I’ll leave that to Jean-Claude Van Damme.  He’s the only one I know with the credentials.

He Was Lying to Me: Things Nicky V. Told Me (442)

In a magical time called the early 90's, before the dawn of the Internet, cellular phones, and reality television, I used to wander down the block donning my Starter pullover jacket toward the Pimpinellas' house.  There I would pass the weekends playing Rad Racer, watching The Naked Gun, pretending to be Fred Barnett, and listening to the elder of the Pimpinella brothers read mayonnaise ingredients off the Hellmann's label as we attempted to repair the Ninja Turtle blimp from another crash landing.  As fun as this all may seem, we still felt the need to leave the house and play outside, usually when we wanted to pretend to be Fred Barnett.  If we were outside for more than a few minutes we would often be joined by the Pimpinellas' neighbor, Nicky V.  I will refer to this individual only as Nicky V. to protect the accused from the all-knowing Google machine.  Nicky V. was a year older than me, which at my age meant he was one cooler.  Apart from his age making him cooler than me in my mind, it also gave his words weight.  When Nicky told me stories, which is what Nicky specialized in, I believed every word.  Some of my other friends who also frequented the Pimpinellas valued Nicky's word as much as I did.  However, looking back twenty years later, I am beginning to think that Nicky V. was full of shit.  I will now make an attempt to disprove several of Nicky's most bold claims.

Nicky V.'s Grandfather was a Vampire
One day, while Turtle and I were riding the bus back from school, Nicky V. approached us and handed us a tattered, yellow piece of paper.  He told us that we could read it so long as we never told anyone what it said.  Don't worry, I'm not breaking my oath now.  I broke it about ten minutes after reading it when I told the Pimpinellas.  The letter was allegedly from Nicky's grandfather.  It explained that he was a vampire, and that if Nicky got rid of any garlic, crosses, wooden stakes, and holy water from his house while he came to visit, Nicky would be spared.  Now at first, Turtle and I laughed behind Nicky's back.  We boasted that we didn't believe in vampires and were sure that Nicky wrote the letter himself.  However, the weekend that Nicky's grandfather visited, and every weekend every year after that, you could be damn sure Turtle and I weren't hanging at the Pimpinellas house after dark.  Now common sense would say that this had to be a falsification, but I am a scientist at heart and would need solid evidence to disprove a theory.  I remember Nicky saying the letter was some sort of old scroll and noted the discoloration to authenticate its age, but even an 6 year old knows what legal stationary looks like.  That's one strike against him.  Secondly, I don't think vampires bite their family members.  I'm pretty sure that's like vampire incest.  That would be like your grandfather threatening to make out with you if you didn't clean your room.  This of course is not hard evidence though.  Nicky was weird.  Maybe his grandfather was too.  One piece of evidence that Nicky does have on his side is that this was before the whole vampire fad.  This may have even been before Interview With a Vampire.  For a 7 year old to come up with this story with zero media influence would be impressive.  It looks like the case is still open on this one.

Nicky V. Was Making Super Genetically Enhanced Crickets
This, according to Nicky, is how you make crickets super human...or super-cricket:
1. Trap cricket in jar.
2. Pour motor oil onto cricket.
3. Let motor oil soaked cricket sit in the summer sun all day and then over night.
4. Crack open motor oil shell and release cricket back into jar.
5. Inject cricket with Nicky's magic serum.
6. Release super cricket back into the wild.
There are several holes in this procedure.  The biggest hole being that I never saw an in tact cricket step out of the motor oil shell.  Sure I saw the motor oil get pured on the cricket, and I saw a live cricket in the jar the next day, but how could I tell if it was the same cricket?  If only Dr. Joe Face had lived near us back then.  Surely he would have developed a more detailed method for tracking the crickets.  Also, I'm fairly positive that Nicky's magic serum was cologne, and the syringe was a sewing needle.  Ultimately, this now sounds like something a serial killer would do as a child.  Hopefully, I stayed on his good side.  Speaking of which, Nicky V. totally turned these crickets into super crickets.  One of them is now the Mayor of Washington Township, NJ.

Nicky V. Was Going to Get Turtle and I Mega Man Suits
OK, this one was total horseshit.  I can easily prove this one wrong.  Nicky told us he knew someone from Japan that was giving him three Mega Man suits.  Naturally, he would keep one of them, but he said he would give the other two to Turtle and I.  I never got my god damn Mega Man suit.  I couldn't sleep for almost six months as the promise continued to be delayed.  All I could think about was tossing aside the clothes my mom laid out for me on the bed in the morning and stepping into my kickass Mega Man suit to get on the bus.  "No talking in the hallway, you say?"  Proton Blast!!!  "I before e except after c, you say?"  Proton Blast!!!  "I talk too much in class Mrs. Rotberg?  Well, how fortunate for you because you won't be able to hear me when your ears have melted along with the rest of your old dumb head from my deadly effing PROTON BLAST!!!"  I'm still livid about this.  I want my Mega Man suit.  I'm sure Turtle will tell you the same thing.

Nicky V. Told Us Nintendo Had a Stealth Jet That Followed Us Around and Stole Our Ideas
Whenever we talked about ideas for a video game, or a movie, or a terrorist plot to high-jack the president's airplane, Nicky always told us to keep it down, and then would look up at the sky.  "They're listening to us," he would say.  Apparently we were the most creative children on the planet.  Nintendo knew this so they had a plane follow us around and tap our conversations.  Any good idea we had would turn into a Nintendo game, or an action figure, or a breakfast cereal.  It was kind of creepy.  I think this story has more validity than any of the others.  I've had many ideas stolen from me.  Futurama stole my surprise funeral idea.  Daniel Tosh stole my falling down an up escalator joke.  South Park stole a myriad of ideas that the Pimpinellas, Geno, and I had come up with about two years before it even debuted.  Most recently, a Christmas card stole Turtle's idea of Human Santa-Pede.  If there's a "Nicky V: The Movie" within six months of this post, don't be surprised.
..............................................................................................................................................

So, after carefully analyzing Nicky's stories, I was only able to disprove one of them.  One, I'm sure is true, and the other two I couldn't prove either way.  Maybe Nicky V. wasn't full of shit.  Maybe he's just a understandably paranoid, scientific genius, grandson of a vampire.  I just wish he would use his abilities to make me my god damn Mega Man suit.

The KKK Took My Baby Away (458)

The KKK is a repugnant organization that is a symbol of American ignorance.  For years they have been spreading their disgusting doctrine to the masses, and to my surprise their popularity has recently continued to grow.  However, I could have never imagined that they would have made their way into my life.  Not only have they infiltrated my home, but they have brainwashed my poor wife, to the point that they are now her only focus.  They must be stopped.  Kim, Kourtney, and Khloe are a menace that are destroying the fabric of American society.  If you truly care for those you love, stop the KKK from destroying them before it is too late. 

Detecting the Early Stages of KKK Brainwashing
Early symptoms of KKK brainwash include, but are not limited to:
1. Referring to any of the Kardashians by only their first name in normal conversation as if they are mutual friends of those speaking.  Example: "Can you believe Khole has to leave LA to move to Dallas?  Where will she find a good Thai fusion restaurant?"  When you start asking yourself, "Do we have a friend named Kourtney/Kim/Khloe that I am forgetting about", your loved one may already be infected.
2. Persistent talk about buying boots, how cute someone else's boots are, or the actual purchase of boots outside one's practical purchasing power.  Example: My wife took out a $20,000 home equity loan to buy a pair of super cute boots, wore them once, and then starting talking about buying more boots.
3. Slurring of words, slowing one's verbal pace, and gradually lowering the pitch of one's voice while talking behind someone else's back.  Example: "Oh my god, can you believe Sarah bought thatuglyeffingscrafandworeitwiththoseawfulpairofblippityblopblahblah?"  As the pitch and pace grow lower and slower the words eventually become inaudible to those uninfected. 



From left to right: Khloe, Kim, and
Kourtney at a Miami KKK rally in 2011



Preventing Full Infection



The most common forms of treatment for early stage KKK infection are:

1. Switching your DVR cable box for a normal cable box without recording capability.  An uninfected patient could easily tell the difference, but those with early stage KKK will only be able to make high pitch whining sounds.

2. Assume all grocery shopping responsibilities.  If the infected patient is unable to access tabloid magazines the infection will eventually weaken.

Symptoms of Full Infection

Patients displaying any of these symptoms should be immediately treated:

1. Watching the Kim and Kris wedding on repeat and sobbing uncontrollably.

2. Changing one's first name so that it begins with a "K" when it should clearly begin with a different letter.  For example, spelling Carly as Karly.

3. The inability to form multi-syllabic words and drooling in between noises. 

Treatment for Advanced KKK

Though not 100% effective there are some treatments for advanced KKK that have been known to result in remission. 

1. Cutting off all media access.  Cable and Internet service must be shut off, and tabloid magazines must be avoided at all costs.  The infected patient will no longer be able to provide these services for themselves as they have spent all of their income on boots. 

2. Re-train the infected brain.  Start by reading children's books to the infected patient.  Pop up books work especially well for early stimulation.  As the patient begins to comprehend what is being read, they may be able to advance to young adult material and eventually may learn to read again. 

Wiping Out the KKK for Good

The KKK will continue to exist in this country as long as we allow our friends, family, and significant others to be exposed to them.  Be proactive and have your cable provider block the E! Network.  Practice safe media.  Avoid morning radio shows on top 40 stations.  Stay away from long super market lines that may contain enticing photographs of the KKK in their new boots.  And most importantly, be there for the ones you love.  If someone you love mentions the KKK, change the god damn subject.

At Night I Wake Up With the Sheets Soaking Wet (469)

Anyone who's had the pleasure of hanging out with me recently has probably noticed the pronounced bags under my eyes.  I've been stressed.  Worn out.  Mentally exhausted.  It hasn't been due to my recent two hour commute back and forth to work.  I've been waking up in a sweat every night, unable to go back to sleep.  I've been absolutely tortured by the fact that those underground nerds on the Swiss-French border are going to blow up the world while they smash particles into each other all night like a god damn astrophysical mosh pit.  The nerds will tell you they're trying to find the Higgs boson, but I have other theories. 

She Blinded Me With Science...and Sub-Atomic Particles
For those of you who don't know much about the Higgs boson, it is more commonly known by its alias: The God Particle.  Essentially, the science nerds have pretty much proven every detail of how the universe was made, but they can't prove why things have mass.  This is kind of a big deal.  And since scientists' favorite pastime is making fun of religion, they're pretty intent on actually finding proof that their theories on particle physics are correct.  So much so, that they dug a 17 mile tunnel underneath the Franco-Swiss border specifically to smash particles into each other.  That's commitment!  Murphy, Cap'n and I were going to dig a 1/4 mile tunnel from my basement to Old Head Bar, and we never even broke ground...and we're pretty committed to drinking.  By smashing particles into each other at insane speeds, the nerds are trying to recreate a reaction that occurred when the universe was first created (I think).  More on this to come.

So, I've read a number of explanations of what the Higgs boson is, and there was one analogy that explained it best.  However, the analogy involved Margaret Thatcher, so I'll dumb it down a bit.  Imagine a party at Townhouse 156 at Fairfield circa 2003.  While there are a lot of people drinking and dancing everyone is generally evenly spaced out among the first floor.  Now let's say by some act of god that Fairfield had a decent basketball team, and ESPN was in town for the weekend to broadcast a game.  Due to the media coverage, sideline reporter Erin Andrews is in town and she steps into the party at 156.  As she crosses the room, all the dudes become strongly attracted to her and cluster around her.  The dudes are the Higgs field giving Erin Andrews (a sexy electron) mass.  After Erin Andrews passes through, clusters of people congregate together to spread the rumor that Erin Andrews was at 156 responding to a booty call from Ryan Cleary.  The clusters that form to spread the Cleary rumor is the Higgs boson.

Honey I Blew Up the Universe
So, earlier I alluded to the fact that this reaction hasn't happened since the universe was made, but the nerds are hell-bent on recreating it.  Remember what happened the last time the universe was created?  I believe it's called the big effing bang!  There may be a slight chance that the nerds forget to carry the three and a giant explosion will tear through space and kill everything in it.  At least the French will die first.  This has been the cause of my lack of sleep.  While you lie in bed dreaming about pet dinosaurs I'm readying myself for the end of existence.  Don't these nerds care that they could end it all?  How the hell do they make those damn particles move so fast?  How do you even move a particle?  If they can recreate the world, why don't we have flying cars yet?  What the hell is a Hadron?  Why did I have the bowl Bart?  Why did I have the bowl?  The questions are endless.  You can see why I'm not sleeping.

Coming to a Universe Near You: A New Universe
The more I think about these nerds, the more I think that they're up to something.  I mean, why would they risk our existence simply to find out why things have mass when they could easily use their powers to build flying cars?  It recently dawned on me.  They want to create a new universe.  Think about it.  These are the smartest people on the planet yet their nerd status make them social parasites.  The Kardashians are billionaires for Christ's sake and these geniuses can't even get a date.  They're living underground!!!  There is no doubt in my mind that they're recreating the universe with a slight tweak that makes smart people attractive.  The dumb, good looking people are in big trouble...but they probably don't understand, so I'll offer this public service announcement.  Please answer the following question:
Michael Bay movies are:
A. Awesome
B. Awful
If you answered A, go out and have sex with as many people as possible as soon as you can!  If you answered B, the new universe is going to be pretty sweet my friends.

Jump in Bed and Cover Up Your Head (480)

Over the past several years it has become increasingly clear to me that the majority of fictional Christmas stories are metaphors for the absence of god and totalitarian oppression.  When we teach our children about the "magic" of Christmas, we are, in fact, forcing oppressive control tactics upon them.  The three most famous examples are Santa Claus, Frosty, and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.  Each of these myths are more reprehensible than the last.  If you find it hard to believe, I understand.  You've been manipulated as well.  It's time to step back and look closely and what "they" want you to believe.  Observe.

"Here Comes Santa Claus" by Samuel Beckett
Every year from Thanksgiving until Christmas morning children wait.  They write lists; they sit on laps; they go to parades; and they sing songs about him.  Here comes Santa Claus.  Every day that passes is one day closer to his arrival.  Then on Christmas Eve they jump in bed and cover up their head.  Why do they cover their heads, you ask?  So that they may be blinded from the terrifying truth.  Their is no Santa Claus.  He never comes.  All of the children's waiting is in vain.  One day you find out from a friend that the Super Nintendo you got last year was actually from your parents.  At this point you can't help but feel like Vladimir and Estragon.  You've spent months of your life waiting for someone who never arrives.  So why do parents embrace this torture and subject their innocent children to it?  Control.  If you're good you get the Ninja Turtle blimp.  If you're bad you get a stocking full of combustible fuel.  Your parents have invented a fictional character that watches you from above, judging all of your actions, and at the end of the year you will either be rewarded or punished.  Does this sound familiar?  When I turn 30 are my parents going to sit me down and say, "Remember all that stuff about Catholicism we taught you?  Well, we wanted you to do your homework."  The most ridiculous line in "Here Comes Santa Claus" is as follows: "Let's give thanks to the Lord above that Santa Claus is coming tonight."  We were taught to thank god for Santa.  Oh boy.  It gets worse...

"Frosty the Snowman" by Joseph McCarthy
Let's face it.  Frosty was dangerous.  No parent was comfortable with their child following his frozen ass all over town.  This was written in 1950 and the belief in a radical hero that led children marching through the streets disobeying authority figures such as traffic cops was hard to stomach for those in power.  Is it any coincidence that Frosty was leading the children with a broomstick in his hand?  This was a witch hunt from the start.  The lesson learned from this song is that new ideas seem fun at first, but there are harsh consequences.  Frosty melted away due to the heat, much like the innocent women that burned at the stake in Salem, MA.  Don't be fooled by the magic children.  Stay the course, shy away from new ideas, and you'll certainly be spared an extremes in temperature related death.  If you thought that was bad...

"Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" by Friedrich Nietzsche
Rudolph was clearly physically flawed.  This made him unappealing to both female and male reindeer.  The reindeer charged with the responsibility of guiding Santa's sleigh had to be in top physical and mental condition.  This team of team of eight reindeer could easily be considered the master race of reindeer.  The female reindeer wanted nothing to do with Rudolph due to their avid belief in eugenics.  The female reindeer's only goal was to produce the ubermensche (or in this case uberdeir).  Their lack of faith in god led them to place emphasis on the physical world.  Creating a more advanced new generation of reindeer was the only action that gave life meaning.  So it is no surprise that once Rudolph's mutation proves to be advantageous, the reindeer profess that he will go down in history.  Ever hear of the Third Reich?  This was the fourth.

Still not convinced?  Listen to the Chipmunks Christmas song.

You Mean You Forgot Cranberries Too?: Breaking Down the Best Christmas Song of All Time (491)

I don't take naming the best Christmas song of all of time lightly.  I've been listening to hours of Christmas music since Thanksgiving has ended to get myself pumped for my annual Christmas party this weekend.  In conclusion, I've come up with a few factors that make a hall of fame Christmas song.  They are as follows:

1.  Horns.  Hearing a brass instrument is like receiving a swift kick to the ass.  If you're listening to Christmas songs for hours on end, the ones with a horn section always stand out.  If you're in a department store you won't even realize what song you're listening to until a song with horns comes on.  They're like an alarm clock that scream, "Wake the hell up and drink some egg nog!"
2.  Auxiliary percussion.  Xylophones, tambourines, wood blocks, sleigh bells, cow bells, taco bells.  You need weird percussion to remind people that you can not listen to this song after December.  How many top 40 hits feature sleigh bells? 
3.  No cryptic references to some creepy wizard baby.  Nothing brings a Christmas party/song down like getting all religious.  Christmas is no time to get preachy.  Save it for Easter.  Incidentally, I always thought Christmas was the celebration of the birth of Toby from the Labyrinth.  You know, the babe with the power.  Isn't that why David Bowie was singing with Bing Crosby.  Also, was there ever anybody in the history of time named Bing other than Bing Crosby?
4.  The song has to get you into the Christmas spirit no matter how many times you hear it.  By Christmas spirit, I mean drinking heavily, having fun with friends and family, and being somewhat pleasant to people you would normally run over with your car. 

There are many songs that fit this template, but three stood out for me. 

3. "What Christmas Means to Me" by Stevie Wonder.  This song is a straight up jam.  Stevie sings the living hell out of it like he does with everything.  If this comes on in my car, I immediately start doing the Stevie head bob and buy a gift for the next person I'm going to see that day.  This is one of the few Christmas songs ever made that could be a hit any time of the year if the lyrics were changed.  However, since Stevie Wonder is super positive about pretty much everything, it doesn't lift my spirits up as much as the next two songs.

2. "Snoopy's Christmas" by The Royal Guardsmen.  Honestly, it was very hard not pick this as my number one song.  It's an accomplishment to write a great Christmas song, but to write a great Christmas song about a cartoon dog flying a plane and fighting a World War I ace fighter pilot is just astounding.  The Red Barron could have killed Snoopy!  Seriously, he had Snoopy in his sights and Snoopy's plane had ice on the wings!  It was 40 below!  The kraut bastards could have won the effing war!  The history of the world was at the Barron's trigger finger tip.  But no!  He heard Christmas bells and instead decided to force Snoopy to land in the Rhine, where they proceeded to get bombed before flying around again.  Really?  This happened?  This is a song that children listen to?  The only reason this doesn't make number one is that I suspect Charles Schultz was secretly a Nazi sympathizer.  Look it up.  He had a chance to gun down a Nazi in WWII and claimed he forgot how to load his machine gun.  A likely story. 

1.  "Christmas Wrapping" by the Waitresses.  This one is just four minutes of perfection.  Everything about it is amazing.  I decided that this really deserves a full breakdown.  Here we go...

It's important to note that at the time of this recording, The Wairesses' lead vocalist, Pattie Donahue, was fresh off setting the world record for the least amount of shit given: 0.  This record would later be matched by DMX in the 90's.  From the day she was born, up to and after the Waitresses' smash single "I Know What Boys Want," Pattie Donahue did not give a shit about anything.  She knew what boys wanted, and she didn't even care!  Now she was poised to record vocals on a Christmas song.  Sounds like a disaster, doesn't it?  We'll see. 

OK, so the song starts out with some sweet auxiliary percussion.  Well played The Waitresses.  And what follows the auxiliary percussion?  Horns of course!  And these are some intense horns too.  If I was a medieval king, I would have this horn part played before any of my messengers read an important scroll.  So, we're about 15 seconds into the song and it already has two of the four required ingredients.  In addition, it also has already established the greatest bass line in any Christmas song ever.  It's not even a contest, this is just an amazing bass line.  Next comes the hard part.  It's time for Pattie to sing. 

"Bah, humbug!" No, that's too strong
'Cause it is my favorite holiday
But all this year's been a busy blur
Don't think I have the energy

That's Pattie for you.  Starting a Christmas song off with Bah, humbug!  It looks like some things will never change.  But wait...it's her favorite holiday?  For a second I thought she may have had emotions, but I'm sure I'll be proven wrong.  I mean, she doesn't even have the energy to celebrate Christmas.

To add to my already mad rush
Just 'cause it's 'tis the season.
The perfect gift for me would be
Completions and connections left from

One problem here.  Isn't 'tis a shortened version of it is?  And isn't it's a shortened version of it is?  If so she just said "Just 'cause it is it is the season".  EB White would not be happy.

Last year, ski shop,
Encounter, most interesting.
Had his number but never the time
Most of '81 passed along those lines.

Shocker.  Pattie met a guy, got his number, and did nothing with it.  How busy could she have been in 1981?  I know the Internet wasn't around yet which probably caused some inefficiencies, but she's in a band called The Waitresses, which means she was more than likely a musician and/or a waitress.  Try getting a 40 hour a week job before you complain that you're busy.

So deck those halls, trim those trees
Raise up cups of Christmas cheer,
I just need to catch my breath,
Christmas by myself this year.

Christmas cliches followed by Pattie continuing to remind us she doesn't give a shit.

Calendar picture, frozen landscape,
Chilled this room for twenty-four days,
Evergreens, sparkling snow
Get this winter over with!

Hate to tell you Pattie, but it's only been winter for three days. 

Flashback to springtime, saw him again,
Would've been good to go for lunch,
Couldn't agree when we were both free,
We tried, we said we'd keep in touch.

You saw this guy three months ago and got his number.  Now you see him again and you can't find time to go to lunch?  I thought you knew what boys wanted?  Give him what he wants Pattie.  Give him what he wants!

Didn't, of course, 'til summertime,
Out to the beach to his boat could I join him?
No, this time it was me,
Sunburn in the third degree.

OK, now it's been six months and he's still inviting you out to his boat?  He must be really ugly if he's rich and is still hanging on to your number.  Also, I think you'd need to be on the sun to get third degree sunburn.  I hope he's not a doctor because there's no way he's buying that excuse.

Now the calendar's just one page
And, of course, I am excited
Tonight's the night, but I've set my mind
Not to do too much about it.

Pattie's excited?  Could she possibly care that it's Christmas?  Maybe.  While you contemplate that, how about another bad ass horn break? 

Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
But I think I'll miss this one this year.
So, she says that like a thousand times.  We get it.  She's missing Christmas because she's Pattie Donahue and she doesn't give a shit.

Hardly dashing through the snow
Cause I bundled up too tight
Last minute have-to-do's
A few cards a few calls
'Cause it's r-s-v-p
No thanks, no party lights
It's Christmas Eve, gonna relax
Turned down all of my invites.

Your just too damn cool for Christmas parties aren't you?  You're impervious to feeling Christmas cheer.  Go to hell Pattie Donahue!

Last fall I had a night to myself,
Same guy called, halloween party,
Waited all night for him to show,
This time his car wouldn't go,

Does anyone else find it kind of weird that she only hears from this guy once a season?  Also, he can afford a boat, but not a car that runs?  I'm beginning to think Pattie is making this dude up.

Forget it, it's cold, it's getting late,
Trudge on home to celebrate
In a quiet way, unwind
Doing Christmas right this time.

Doing Christmas right is staying home by yourself?  Wow.  You've outdone yourself Pattie.

A&P has provided me
With the world's smallest turkey
Already in the oven, nice and hot
Oh damn! Guess what I forgot?

What did you forget Pattie?  Was it that Christmas was meant to be spent with friends and family?  Was it that being a shut-in isn't fun around the holidays?  Was it that a magic baby was born to save your smug ass?  I hope not.  We made it so far without a Jesus reference.  Let's not ruin it now.

So on with the boots, back out in the snow
To the only all-night grocery,
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
In the line is that guy I've been chasing all year!

Oh...you just needed groceries.  And of course you would see that guy you've been chasing all year.  It's the beginning of another season.  Are you not catching on to the formula?

"I'm spending this one alone," he said.
"Need a break; this year's been crazy."
I said, "Me too, but why are you?
You mean you forgot cranberries too?"

This explains a lot.  The guy seems to care just about as much as Pattie.  A young DMX perhaps?  I guess we'll never know.  Either way, this explains why the two of them could never get in touch.  Also, cranberries?  Maybe this is just artistic license.  I hope she means cranberry sauce.  Otherwise this is just weird, and it's made even weirder that the dude is buying them as well.  I always hoped that when she asked him that question he would awkwardly respond, "Uh, no...cigarettes."

Then suddenly we laughed and laughed
Caught on to what was happening
That Christmas magic's brought this tale
To a very happy ending! "

Wait, what?  Happy ending?  You mean Christmas even got Pattie Donahue excited?  You saw the exclamation point at the end of the verse, right?  This is incredible!  This totally sells me on the song.  It gets me in the Christmas spirit every time Pattie's cold, black heart melts in the fluorescent glow of the supermarket.  So what was it that made Pattie care?  Well, in the 80's they'd say that Pattie Donahue's shit giver gave two shits that day.

Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
Couldn't miss this one this year!