An Open Letter to Everyone Who Has Complained About Commercials Being at the Beginning of Movies

Dear Everyone Who Has Complained About Commercials Being at the Beginning of Movies,

You actually have it pretty good, so shut up.¹

Yours,
Andrew Schnorr


1. There has been seeming upsurge of advertisements in-theatre when going to movies. Many times it's for Coca Cola or the like. And then I hear people complaining, "Oh, how horrible. I hate that there are commercials before the movie now. I pay the price for my ticket, and they're still making us watch commercials like it's television." Even nationally-watched Andy Rooney has complained about such things (truth be told, though, the only time Andy Rooney won't be complaining is when he's dead).

People are funny in that they have a strict aversion in being advertised to. I once watched a brilliantly made in-theatre ad. It was cinematic; it was beautiful. The person I was with said, "Wow, this looks awesome." Then, at the very end, the product logo came up (I honestly can't remember what it was for). My associate then changed their tune, saying, "Oh, it's just a commercial. Lame." The content didn't change; only my associate's perspective. They realized that the ultimate purpose of this production was to take your money, and thus, they hated it.

My question is, who cares? As long as a commercial is entertaining, I couldn't care less if I was trying to be bought or not. The fact of the matter is, every single piece of entertainment is made for the purpose of making money. Maybe the director is making it to fulfill his artistic vision, but that ain't going to cut it when proposing for money. People aren't adverse to seeing trailers in theatres. Why not? They're just ads. ...Oh, I see, it's because of the product they're hawking. We want to see those commercials, because they're for something entertaining. Well, what if I thought that vacuum is damn appealing? Maybe I wouldn't be so adverse to watching a commercial for it.

For those who say that they shouldn't have to watch commercials because they already paid for a ticket, consider the economics behind it: the theatre needs money. They can either get this money through advertising or through increased ticket prices. Let's say that for a single 1-minute ad, Coca Cola pays a theatre a monthly amount roughly equivalent to $1 per person in the theatre that month (I'm simplifying here). If the theatre wanted to get that profit without advertising, they'd have to raise ticket prices by that same amount. Now ask yourself a question: would you be willing to put their money where their mouth is and pay an extra dollar for a movie ticket just so you can avoid 2 minutes of commercials?

...I didn't think so.

So, until you're willing to pay the price, don't complain. I have absolutely no sympathy for the RIAA and the MPAA when they complain about pirated movies. I saw this British pseudo-ad and thought it to be completely apt.


On the other hand, I do have a deal of sympathy for movie theatres. People complain about movie prices, but the fact is, movie theatres as we know them are suffering. The right to distribute a movie has jumped astronomically because of piracy and greedy studios. When you tack on the costs of employing popcorn-shovelers, their profits...well, let's just say they haven't been there. Enter advertisers. With this, the theatres can afford to stay in business in the long run.

So, summing up that point: do you like watching movies on the big screen? Thank commercial advertising.

Finally, we don't know how lucky we have it. Not only are the commercials we have short, they're also (for the most part), entertaining. Personally, my favorite commercials from the past year or so have been the deliciously creepy and downright absurd Sub-Lymon-al Advertising from Sprite. For those who don't recall them, here's the "montage" piece:



Yes, it's an advertisement, but it's trippy and fun. Plus, it's only a minute long. However, back in the 50's, advertisements would be upwards of 20 minutes long in the theatre. The fact that these were short films is not the problem, but the problem was the quality. I'd rather watch an excellent ad for a crappy product than a crappy ad for an excellent product any day.

Now, since getting Netflix, I have become well-acquainted with the genius show Mystery Science Theater 3000, which for those who don't know, was a show based around a guy and two robot puppets making fun of some of the worst movies ever made. But they don't limit themselves to just feature films; they've done plenty of shorts, as well. Many of these pieces of theatrical phlegm have been advertisements from various companies and organizations, including the organization we all know and love: the government. Of course, all the government's shorts were propaganda thinly veiled as public service announcements. Here's an example of one of these short PSA's called Cheating (the heckling is there to make it watchable):



So, the next time you complain about having to sit through two minutes of advertisements, think back to a "simpler" time when you would have to drag through this mess. Thend.²

2. "Thend" is a word I use to mean "The End" as I feel it's more stylized and fun.³

3. Did you forget that these are just footnotes for a letter? For shame.⁴

4. Please refer to Footnote 3.

A Better Question Would Be "Are You Smarter Than a Random Piece of Trivia?"

I don't watch television very much. Keep in mind, I'm not counting movies, computers, and video games; I use those rather frequently. But as for actual TV, I probably watch about 45 minutes a week...if that.

However, I saw an ad for an interesting, if novel, concept: Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader? For kicks, I turned it on for about the last 20 minutes of the show, and I watched a couple clips on YouTube. I must admit, I was intrigued by the idea behind the show: are people so prone to stupidity that we dumb down as we grow older.

After seeing the show, I can say that the answer is an emphatic no.

Of course, this isn't the answer that the show wants you to determine. Nay, they're trying to prove to you that, yes, adults don't know things that even 10-year-olds can get. However, after watching the show, I can see how flawed a concept it really is.

The first question I saw on YouTube was the following: How many teaspoons in 5 tablespoons? Once I saw this, I realized I didn't know the answer. I figured there were 2 teaspoons in a tablespoon, and so the answer was 10. The contestant made the same choice. As it turns out, there are 3 teaspoons in a tablespoon, and so we were wrong. I got straight A's from 4th to 12th grade, I was Valedictorian of my high school, I was in NHS and CSF, I got accepted to UC Berkeley, scored in the top 2% of national standardized testing, and have a IQ of 139, and I don't know how many teaspoons are in a tablespoon.

Y'know what? I'm still smarter than those little bastards, teaspoons be damned!

There are only two situations in which it would be useful to know the teaspoonity of a tablespoon. The first is if you're a struggling chef who can't even eyeball the amount of seasoning to use. The second is if, for some godforsaken reason, you've lost your tablespoon, in which case you should just buy another tablespoon, if for no other reason that to avoid repetitive stress disorder from flipping a teaspoon so many times.

The capacity of the human mind is not infinite. Except for the greatest of savants, a normal adult brain does not remember everything it has learned. It keeps the more or less essential stuff and filters out the fluff. Why do we learn how many teaspoons are in a tablespoon? Not because it's practical knowledge, no, but because it's a introduction to multiplication. For some reason, when you're young, you can't handle pure numbers very well. I'm sure there's some psychology behind it, but regardless, you need to consider things in objects (or, as was often the case in my classes, money). Once you understand the concepts, though, there's no reason to hide the numbers behind the objects. Take away the superfluous knowledge, and this is just 5*3. Teaspoons won't help you in the future. Pure multiplication will. Sorry, kiddo, but that ego trip you got by being "smarter" than the adult, that'll fade, and fade fast.

Part of me wishes I were on this show. Aside from the usual game show promise of winning $1 million (a quick aside: if they asked me what I'd do with the money, I'd say I'd get it all in coins and swim in it like Scrooge McDuck), I'd like to prove to those little punks that they're not so hot just because they remember some disposable piece of information. Though, this desire would probably make me a poor contestant. I can see it now...

Jeff Foxworthy: "So, how many cups in a gallon?"
Me: "I'm going to have to go with 32, Jeff."
Jeff Foxworthy: "You might be a redneck if you get this wrong."
Me: "You've been saying that every single question."
Jeff Foxworthy: "So, Little Johnny, what answer did you come up with?"
Little Johnny: "It's 16. There are four cups in a quart, and four quarts in a gallon. I guess I'm smarter than you, and you're twice my age."
Me: ".......Alright, my erudite little friend, maybe you could tell me what the derivative of three-eks-cubed-over-the-square-root-of-five-eks-squared is! Or how the government can affect the growth of the economy?! Or what the major themes in Paradise Lost were?!!? OR WHAT PARALLAX IS?!?!?! CAN YOU?!?! CAN YOU, YOU LITTLE SNOT!?!?!?!?!"
Producer:"We should probably edit this part out."

Truth be told, I'll probably forget some of the answers to those questions in ten years. I probably won't be stupider, though. My knowledge will just be shifted somewhere else, probably to more practical, occupation-specific things. But as long as I continue to indulge my curiosity, I will never be dumber than a fifth grader.

'Course, if one of the requirements to receive a large sum of money is to declare my intellectual inferiority to a 10-year-old, I'm willing to set aside my integrity for one sentence.

"Sit in yer own damn seat!"

So, I was walking into my IDS 110 lecture in Pimentel Hall when I saw something terrible. Something which at first shocked me, and then the closer I got to it, the angrier I became. It was an inexcusable offense. It was blasphemy. It was madness.

Someone was sitting in my seat.

I am exceptionally territorial. I have had a lecture in Wheeler Auditorium every semester for the past two years, and since my very first day at Cal, I have sat in the exact same chair (K-4). In the rare occasions when someone has usurped my seat, I don't know whether I should vomit or punch them in the face. They stole my seat! What are they going to do next, steal my girlfriend (assuming I had one)?!

I've always been very territorial. This is part of the reason why I was so bummed out by being reassigned from Clark Kerr to Unit 2. Most times it's not a problem; I'm often one of the first people to get into any given classroom, and for the most part, people don't move around too much. Still, there are those days...there are other instances of the things I have to go through, as well.

In my hall staff meetings, I sit two seats from the end on the right side of the table. However, one of my coworkers enjoys sitting there, if only to forbid me from doing the same. I am not so easily discouraged. I simply set aside another chair, and then I would lift up my coworker's chair (with coworker) and move her to her rightful place at my left hand. I'd then scoot the other chair in and sit contentedly. Yes, I know it's not chivalrous, but my stubbornity often comes before my chivalry...at least when it comes to my territory.

But that's not even the most extreme it's been. A few years back, when I was but a lowly high school senior, I was shocked to find that one of my classmates in my AP English class had her keister planted firmly in my desk. Now, this was a not a lecture hall. There were no more than 15 people in that classroom, and we had been sitting in the same seats for 8 months. Why she chose that particular day and that particular desk, I didn't know. And frankly, I didn't care; she was in my seat, and that was all that mattered.

When I have a point to make, especially with someone I know, I tend to use "the silent stare," which is exactly what it sounds like. I will stare at the offender without saying a word. My glare has been described as quite intimidating and disorienting, and so most people will cave in rather than endure it. Unfortunately, this girl wouldn't move, although I could tell she was uncomfortable. I still believe she was either dared or (more likely) paid to do this. When I realized that I was getting nowhere fast, I decided to take more drastic steps, by which I mean I tried to physically move the desk. When I did, not only did she plant her feet in the ground, but she yelped with such force that you'd think I'd mollested her.

When the class bell finally rang, my AP English teacher asked what was going on. When the situation was to her, she said to me, "You can't physically move her, Andrew. You're going to have to either take another seat or stand."

"I'll stand, then."

And I did. For 90 minutes, I stood in place. As luck would have it, we had a surprise essay test that day. Using a 10 lb. English book as my hard surface, I wrote a four-page essay on some random topic while standing up for 90 minutes.

...And I still got the best grade on that test.

What I really thought was funny was that my AP English teacher said to me afterward, "You know, Andrew, at first I thought you were just being stubborn. But now I see you have great resolve and are very steadfast."

"Well," I replied, "that's what being stubborn is all about."

Unfortunately, my ability to do this is somewhat limited in a college environment. After all, I haven't known all of these people for four years. Hell, I haven't known many of them for more than four minutes. Any attempt to stare them down, or physically move them, or stand next to them, would be seen...negatively. What's a guy to do? Unfortunately, it means I'd just have to live it down, swallow my pride, and be uncomfortable for the next hour.

Now, the person was sitting in Row 3, Seat 20. While I'll avoid sitting next to a stranger (particularly one who looks sickly, as this one did), I did sit as close as possible. He was probably wondering why, in an empty classroom that could seat hundreds, I chose to sit two seats away from him. For my part, I was just sitting quietly, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. This was going to be a long lecture.

Then, suddenly, he got up and left. I hadn't noticed, but he was packing up the whole time. Then it dawned on me: oh, he's from the previous class. How silly of me.

As soon as he was out of sight, I quickly hopped to my seat, lest someone else usurp it. I stretched out my interlaced fingers, cracking my knuckles, and smiled. Chalk one up to stubbornity.

A Bloody Good Time, Chaps!

I'm currently wrapped up like a street fighter, my finger stings like hellfire, and I have a little red sticker. I gave blood today.

The Red Cross came in to CKC for a blood drive. We brought in quite a few people who had signed up to give blood to those in need of such stuff. As a hall staff member, I was volunteering for a couple hours, registering people and making sure they were well as they had their precious life juice extracted from them.

An aside about blood. You may notice I refer to it in many ways, from "precious life juice" (like above) to "sanguinary nectar" and a bunch of other ways. That's because I have an unusual fascination with blood. Here's an except from a dream that I converted into an unfinished story:

It was during this moment of silence that I noted the peculiar condition that my room had been cursed with. Gone were the walls, covered with paintings and photographs. Gone I say, to a world which I may never see (should God above permit me not to see so). Gone, too, was the ceiling, and above, I could see not the sun or clouds, not the moon or stars. In their stead was a foul mist, swirling amidst a most imposing darkness. The odious stench of the mist brought into my mind the tangy memory of blood. Only then did I realize that this mist was sanguine in color; it was indeed the hateful stuff! The mist gathered and coagulated, dripping from the air to the floor, replacing the rug that lay in my room with a pool of the wicked humor. It was in this pool that the fiend stood, letting the stuff soak into his charcoal robe. All else that I had known, that had stood in my room, was gone, save for my bed and my body. Although I tried to move, to escape, I could feel my corpse lying still as moss. Only my eyes would function, and they could not, would not, move from the malevolent being before me.

(It was an unsettling dream.)

I may refer to it as "hateful stuff," but I actually do enjoy it. Not as a vampire, mind you. More as a warrior. What does that mean? Well, to explain, I'd have to sound a little weird and possibly creepy. But I'm not afraid to hide anything, so I'll give a bit more insight. The inside of my nose is very delicate. When I was young, I would have nosebleeds on an almost weekly basis. So the sight of blood, particularly my own, is not uncommon to me.

I don't have nosebleeds to the same extent as I did then, but they do tend to occur every now and then without warning. Usually, it's more of an annoyance than anything. But the one time I truly enjoy getting a nosebleed is in the shower. A place of solitude, a place where all is made clean. There's nothing to lose by getting a little dirty. So, I let it flow. I let the sanguine stuff flow all over me. I take some of it in my fingers and paint my face with red markings. I pool it in my hands and squeeze then until it oozes from betwixt my fingers. I let a few drops stain my teeth a reddish-yellow. I feel invigorated. I feel like I should take up a war hammer and do some serious bludgeoning why howling to the winds.

Creeped out yet? Well, after I wash it all down the drain, the feeling passes. However, the point remains that as I was watching my blood flow through that little tube, I couldn't help but think, "beautiful."

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I originally wasn't even going to give blood. Not because I was afraid of losing blood; you have already been able to tell that that's not an issue. It wasn't even about having a needle shoved into my arm. I've been through plenty of experiences where I've had to give significant blood (most recently to prove that I didn't have Hepatitis B). No, the needle would be the easy part.

I didn't want to give blood because I didn't want to get screened.

Now, there's almost nothing wrong with screening. I have no problem telling the Red Cross that I've been in prison in the last week, or that I've had sexual relations with a prostitute. No, it was the finger prick that vexed me. I've noticed that my fingers are more sensitive than most. I can handle pain almost anywhere on my body, almost to a borderline-masochistic degree. But not my fingertips; those are my special spots. I asked all the doctors if they could take the blood sample from anywhere else on my body. From my face, from my legs, from my wrists; anywhere but my fingertips. They said no. When I asked why, not a single one of them knew the reason.

Still, for the greater good, I went through with it. They pricked my finger, and it felt like it was being torn apart.
Them: "There, that wasn't bad, now was it."
Me: *If my teeth weren't clenched, I'd give them a piece of my mind.*

The pain lingered for quite awhile (in fact, it still is 4 hours later), which I hear is quite uncommon. In any event, while waiting to be drained, I was having a conversation with some of my coworkers as to what is the best solution to the need for blood. My idea was to create an artificial blood using science! The advantage to that would be the ability to alter this artificial blood into a kind of super-blood, so as to manufacture a race of super-humans. One coworker says that its too difficult to replicate life material, and that it would be much easier to grow a pod of humans whose sole purpose is the harvest of their lifeblood. The other coworker said that the best way would just be to make blood donation compulsory. "That won't get any support," I said, "It's socially equitable."

Then I got called up. I had talked to many of the doctors/nurses in the drive, and all but one of them was really cool. Unfortunately, I got stuck with the jerk. I tried to be nice to him, but he treated me like a clod of blood-filled dirt. He drained me while avoiding any sort of friendly remarks or words of encouragement. Without anyone to talk to, all I could do was focus on the tip of my middle finger.

I finished relatively quickly ("you bleed well") and I gorged on Cheez-Its and humorously small cans of cranberry juice. I read the little informational page they gave me. It instructed me to drink at least 36 ounces of non-alcoholic liquid, to keep my bandage on and dry, and to refrain from heavy lifting. Hence, my plan for this evening was set.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to be lifting a flowing beer keg while taking a shower.

Politics: The fastest way to make enemies!

I despise talking about politics. I think this comes from my political preferences. On my Facebook profile, you'll see that my "Political Preference" is set under "Other." What does that mean? Well, I guess you could say I'm a bit unique for a Berkeley student, in that I'm a monarchist. And that's not a joke. I am seriously in favor of having a (constitutionally mandated) monarchy in which one person has complete control, with no red tape, no bureaucracy, no voting. It would bring back the phrase "For king and country!" And anyone running under a monarchist ticket would immediately get my vote.

Lamentably, though, there is no American Monarchist Party (well, there is, but it's a small thing headquartered in some backwater town in Texas which I'd like to steer clear from). As is, I'm registered as a Democrat (mainly so I can vote in primaries). However, I'm not exactly one who always votes along party lines. I guess you could call me a moderate, but not even that works perfectly, since a moderate usually has, well, moderate views about most issues. I, on the other, hand, have extremely strong views about certain issues on both sides of the political spectrum. For example:
-I am opposed to both the death penalty and abortion.
-I am not pro-business (I believe in having lot of regulations), but I am also vehemently anti-union (mainly for personal reasons).
-I am very much anti-war, but I am also anti-peace (in that I dislike hippies, anti-war protesters, and other peaceniks).
-Et cetera.

I guess the best term you could use to describe me would be Liberservative Constitutional Monarchist.

There are only a few situations in which I do enjoy talking politics. Mainly I do so in parody. Sometimes I'll use political figures for other purposes. And then there's other times in which I and two of my friends, Chris and Eddie, will play "the government," so as to mcok the bureaucratic system. Eddie is the president, I am the legislature, and Chris is the Supreme Court. Conversations will sometimes go like this.

Me: "I declare a law in which we go to Arby's tonight."
Eddie: "I veto that law."
Me: "The legislature needs a two-thirds vote to overturn the veto. All in favor of overturning? *Raises hand.* It's unanimous."
Chris: "I declare that law to be unconstitutional!"
Me: "All in favor of impeaching the Chief Justice? *Raises hand.* It's unanimous."
Eddie: "I don't allow this impeachment to proceed."
Me: "All in favor of impeaching the president. *Raises hand.* It's unanimous. That's a double impeachment."
Chris: "I declare these actions to be unconstitutional!"
And so on, and so forth...

But other than that, I'm not big on politics, and I especially dislike them being forced upon me.


...


........


...where was I going with this?

Oh, yes! Today, I had some politics (well, some political economics) forced upon me, but I was ready for it. In fact, I was somewhat expecting it. You see, I usually don't like to speak to the solicitors on Upper Sproul unless I have a pre-planned response to whatever they're going to ask. I usually have hypothetical conversations in my head days ahead of time, and I'm actually quite good at predicting what they'll say. And as it turned out, I had thought up one such conversation over the weekend, ever since I saw a flyer for Cal Lobby Day. I felt that if one of the Cal Lobby people came up to me, I would be ready.

And lo and behold, they did! Or, one did, at least. After a nice lunch at the GBC, I walk over to grab a copy of the Squelch, when this chick comes up to me, and the following conversation ensues:

Her: "The average price a Cal student pays is $22,000 a year. And now the governor is planning on raising tuition costs by $435 (or something like that). Doesn't that make you mad?"
Me: "Damn right! It's not nearly enough!"
Her: "Well, would you like to sign...wait, what?"
Me: "We need to increase the costs by at least twice that much if we want to get anywhere."
Her: "You're in favor of increasing tuition."
Me: "Sweetie (I'm not sure if I actually called her that), you're looking at this the wrong way. The University isn't ripping you off. Not with tuition, at least. Year after year, UC Berkeley is named by all those magazines as dollar-for-tuition-dollar the best university in the world. Even with the increase in tuition costs, it's still better than any other university out there."
Her: "But-"
Me: "Here's the thing. Most costs that a student has to pay doesn't have to do with tuition (except for out-of-staters, and they're a lost cause anyway). It has to do with housing. UC Berkeley has the fairly dubious honor of having the highest housing costs in the nation. In fact, Foothill has the single highest room cost, while Clark Kerr Campus has the highest average room cost. Non-student housing is not much better, seeing as this is the Bay Area. What's the problem with this? Well, tuition is tax deductible. Housing costs are not. And yet, for student housing, it's still going to the State of California, but you aren't getting anything back. That's where they're scamming you.
Her: "See-"
Me: "The solution? Transfer housing costs to tuition costs. Instead of paying $5,000 for tuition and $15,000 for housing, tell them to make it $15,000 for tuition and $5,000 for housing. You pay the same amount, but it's suddenly tax deductible."
Her: "But not everyone lives in student-housing."
Me: "Ah, but that's the beauty. Lowering the price of student housing will prompt more people to want to live in the dorms. This will decrease the demand for non-campus housing. Do you have a pen and paper?"
Her: "Umm...yeah."
Me: "Thank you. So, when the demand curve shifts to the left, the new equilibrium point is lower on the vertical supply curve. This means a lower price for all housing." (Dramatic recreation of sketch below.)

"So one way or the other, people save money with this plan. You should promote it or suck it up. The fact of the matter is, the state needs money, and hence people need to give money. I don't envy the governor; he's akin to a doctor who has a patient with poison in their blood, but are unwilling to bleed it out."
Her: "Your logic is astounding! Take me with you! Make love to me!"

That last line was never spoken. In fact, the Cal Lobby worker seemed quite perturbed (to put it lightly) with me. Through a furrowed brow, she mumbled, "Well, if you feel that way, you can lobby your position as well."

"I would," I replied, "except for the fact that I honestly don't care. I don't like politics, anyway. Toodles." And I walked away.



P.S. I just found out that ranch tastes really good on meatloaf!

An (Ad)Sensory Experience...

I'd thought I'd try something different today.

Google AdSense is a funny little creature. It allows you to receive revenue on a website, even if you may not be commercial site. Basically, you don't have to do anything to get revenue (small though it may be). Seeing as I like my money for nothing and my checks for free, I decided at the beginning of this blog that I would sell my soul to capitalism. Hence, I put not only one AdSense bar in my blog, but two. One on the side, on at the bottom.

Now, in case you're wondering what's so different about these ads, it's that they're managed by Google (as everything shall be one day). Hence, Google uses their internet dominance to give "specially-tailored" ads to you, the consumer. The way this works is as follows: when you're on a website with....you know, I'll just let Wikipedia explain it:

Each time a visitor visits a page with an AdSense tag, a piece of JavaScript writes an iframe tag, whose src attribute includes the URL of the page. Google's servers use a cache of the page for the URL or the keywords in the URL itself to determine a set of high-value keywords. (Some of the details are described in the AdSense patent.) If keywords have been cached already, ads are served for those keywords based on the AdWords bidding system.

So there you go. More simply put, the ads you are shown depends on the page you're on. If you're on a soccer fan site (either of them), you might see an ad for Adidas cleats or something.

Okay, enough preamble. Where am I going with this? Well, I like to think that I've covered a wide variety of topics thus far in this blog, so I want to see what Google has seen in it. I'm going to look at each of my posts up to this point, and I'll see the kinds of as each one has.

Shall we get started? Yes. Good. On we go!

It had to begin somewhere...: A quick scan showed that the most common theme in the ads was blogging. Which makes sense, seeing as this is a blog and all...*cough* My introductory post was no different. The most interesting of them, I feel, was an ad for "Moms Blog", which said, "Share your story and read blogs from moms like you." No matter how many times I read it, it never sounds quite right. Oh, and there's another funny one which asks point blank, "Are you stupid?"

Looking at the Stars...: Okay, this one wasn't much different; most of the ads still dealt with blogging. One interesting one was "Free Blog Ringtones!". I didn't know that in addition to being an integral part to Web 2.0, blogs also had a hit musical career.

An Evening of Wii Boxing: I figured this would either show stuff relating to the Wii or to boxing. It turned out to be the latter. More specifically, it had to do with boxing workouts, although there was one tempting offer for a "free punching bag."

The Horribleness Must End!!!: This one confused the hell out of me. I got an ad for "Handguns for Self Defense", which asks the immortal question, "What type of handgun is the best for self defense?" Never mind the fact that I was writing about the English language. People want their guns, apparently.

LaRouche! LaRouche! LaRouche is on Fire!: One of the ads on this one had the title "Cal Berkeley University." Isn't that nice, an ad for Cal. What's the description say, though? "Move your career forward with an accredited online degree." That doesn't sound like Cal at all. In fact, if you were to click on the link, you'd see that, unlike the prestigious University of Phoenix, Cal isn't on their list of "accredited" schools at all! What a gyp!

Revelations and Taglines: This also had stuff to do with self-defense, including $25 stun-guns. I guess Google's reasoning is "If you're associating with freaks like this guy, you're going to have the need to protect yourself sooner or later."

The Rotten Apple, Part I: Here I was expecting the ultimate irony; that on a page in which I express my hatred for Apple, there would be ads for the company. Actually, all the ads were for volunteering, the most interesting being, "Prayer Volunteers Wanted: Prayer Touches Lives - Reach hearts around the world with your prayers." A beautiful sentiment, to be sure, but a funny thing to advertise...

A (Quelled) Announcement...: I actually got an ad to a specific blog on this one. "Shane Sanders Blog Column - Insightful Articles on Sports, Economics, Life." You'd think this is some hoity-toity professional, don't you? Well, you'd be wrong. It's just some guy with 11 posts on a LiveJournal and (the best part) no comments.

The Rotten Apple, Part II: I found some spyware-removal program ads at the bottom of this one. I think that's the first practical ad I've seen so far.

The Best Grifts Come From the Heart: One funny "Blog" ad I saw said the following: "Eons is a leading blog community for adults over 50 years old." I'm sorry, but the term "eons" really has to be a downer to some of the old folks, particularly those who wish to be young again. "Sorry, Gramps, you can't be with the in-crowd. You're in the eons."

Today Was a Big First for Me...: There was some more volunteering ads here, including one which offered an "Internship in Nepal" (as well as other places) for $799. So, not only are you not getting paid for your volunteer work, but you actually have to pay them to work for them. Brilliant strategy.

Mini-Blogs, Set One: Just more about blogging, nothing new or interesting.

The Lobotomist's Dream Post-Superbowl Extravaganza!!!: As can be expected, there were plenty of ads about the Superbowl and its commercials. One which I thought seemed a little too provocative was for "Banned Commercials - Too Hot For TV". However, a quick look at the URL showed that this was an ad for something more insidious than pornography - the pretentious, prevaricating propagandists known as PETA. I don't think there's a supposedly "good" organization I have less respect for. Begone, PETA ad! Off my blog!

Notice Anything...Different?: Being an extremely short post about my blog, the ads here also were just the same rehashes.

Music to My Ears...: Ah, I think this was the most distinct of them all. In addition to offering "Free Music Downloads" (which, if you look, turn out to be anything but), there is also an ad called "Soundtrack" in which "An all-star cast pays tribute to legendary composer Ennio Morricone". What? Not only is that not a soundtrack (it is a "Tribute"), I've never even heard of this man. And if I haven't heard of him, he's obviously not "legendary."

I Want to Know - Have You Ever Seen the Rain?: Ah, plenty of ads about rain clothing, including "Helpful Links for Rain Boots," which turns out to be nothing but a page of more ads. Lovely.

Through Tinted Glass...: They actually had ads for sunglasses on here. Sadly, though, none were for the kind I wanted. Rats! And here I thought I could actually work the system.

Required Reading: The only ad which caught my eye here was for the "Tom Howard Story Contest." They say they have $3,200 in prizes, but there's also a $12 entry fee. I've always been wary about contests with an entry fee, but who knows, maybe I'll submit my Sapphire story.

One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish...BLUE Fish???: This one also threw me for loop, as the most common theme here was for "Criminal Background Checks Made Easy". Hmm, maybe Google really does think I'm sketchy.

The Lobotomist's Dream Valentines Eve Special!: Considering that this was a Valentine's Day blog, I thought the addition of "Discount Pepper Spray" was a crack-up.

More like the "Goodbye, Break" Café...*cough*: There were even more Valentine's Day ads here, probably due to the fact that it was posted on that day. They seem kinda useless now, but I guess it's never too early to plan ahead.

Down the Rabbit Hole...: I always love the ads that say something to this effect: "Get a free copy of Windows Vista 2007. Offer expires today!" They never expire today, and anyone with half a brain knows they don't. Plus, having to sign up for a bunch of different offers just to get a free copy of a new, still-buggy product is neither appealing nor economically free.

Influences, Part I - The Incredible Quotable Oscar Wilde and His 1890s Companions: The theme on this page, for some reason, was paralegal training, for all the many people wishing to be legal secretaries. I was disappointed, really; I wanted some 1890s paraphernalia.

Questionnaires: One-Word Answers: More criminal background checks here, and not much else.

Ashes to Ashes...: I thought the funniest ad here was for "Chimney-Cleaning Logs". Haha! 'Cause, y'know, ashes...

Why I Hate the News...: Here I was, talking about natural disasters, and the ads were about "Personal Soccer Training - Register Now for Individual and Group Sessions with an Expert Instructor." You see, this is the kind of ad that should be on either of the soccer fan sites.

Presenting the Greatest Team Ever!!!: In addition to an eBay ad searching "Roosevelt", there were ads for "Scalp Treatment" and "Hair Loss Treatment," which is ironic because none of those presidents were bald.

Monday Music Madness!!!: There is one ad here which says, "How to Copy Any DVD Movie - Copy & Burn any protected DVD Movie to a blank CD. Copies play anywhere." Despite being sketchy (partially because CDs are too small to hold movies), I find it amazing that such an ad can be legal. I mean, I have no qualms with...those people who copy movies, but this ad looks like it's begging for a letter from the RIAA.

An "Eye-Opening" Experience...: Surprise, surprise, eye exam and contact lens ads. One which tickled me offered a "Free Online Eye Exam." I'd be really curious to see how that actually worked (and if it was actually free), but I didn't want to give them my email address.

A Different Place to Rest My Hat...: One ad that caught my eye said, "Coffee exposed - A Shocking Secret Coffee Co's don't want You to know". Horrified, I took a look. I breathed a sigh of relief when it was only referring to "stale" coffee. No e. coli to be found.

How Funny Can a Guy Named Victor Be?: Finally, we have an ad for "Executive Protection" and "Armed Security Officers", which Google recommends you post around your house in case I ever decide to come over for a visit.

My overall impressions? Google's AdSense isn't as accurate as I think they'd like it to be...plus, they obviously think I'm evil. Take a look around some time at the ads on here. Some of the actual websites can be pretty funny to look at (just don't sign up for them). And whenever you do click on something to laugh at, I get a few cents in my pocket. Everyone's a winner!

How Funny Can a Guy Named Victor Be?

I'm not a big fan of comedians. Particularly modern comedians. Y'know, the kind who think that all jokes revolve around a mix of sex and racism. The kind who start every joke with "Wanna know something about _______ people?" The kind who make you laugh only to brush off your discomfort and possibly offense at their "joke."

That seems to be the style nowadays, so I tend to shy away from watching stand-up routines, as well as videos on YouTube and the like.

However, I've just found a comedian that I really, really enjoy.

Here's the thing, though: he's dead, so he ain't going to be doing any fresh material anytime soon. However, what I've seen of him has made me laugh out loud many times.

His name is Victor Borge, and he basically breaks all the stereotypes that have been set down in modern comedy. He's not young and "hip" - he's an elderly classical pianist, for chrissake! His routines don't focus around sex and racism and shocking people into state where they don't know whether to laugh or be offended. Rather, he uses razor-sharp wit, well-rehearsed and wholesome skits, and some damn fine piano playing. He's one of the few players of classical music I've seen who doesn't take himself seriously. Top that all off with a infectious old-man smile, and you have what I consider to be an all-around perfect entertainer.

I had a busy day, but not really one worth talking about, so I figured I'd make up for a lack of substance by sharing several videos to give you an idea of what "the Clown Prince of Denmark" is like (because I'm sure that not many people of my generation know much about him).

This first one appears to be from his (relatively) younger years, but it still has the same pizazz. It shows him playing the piano with some other player. The skill that they use to play the piece is remarkable, and funny to boot.



Next is a skit called "Inflationary Language" which, as an actor, I can tell has to take incredible mental discipline. Just trying to remember to say something to the effect of "Tea five three, anytwo?" makes my head hurt.



This one takes a little bit of explanation. I didn't get it at first. It's called "Phonetic Punctuation." Essentially, what he does is read a story, but he is also pronouncing all the punctuation with onomatopoeia. That means that there is a different sound (and gesture) for the period, dash, comma, exclamation point, question mark, quotation marks, etc. Once you know that much, the rest is fairly straightforward.



The next two are actually one video which was just cut in half by YouTube's restrictions. If every classical recital had an act beforehand, I would probably be going to Zellerbach Hall a lot more often.





So, that's a good sampling. If you're interested, there's definitely more n YouTube, and it's all worth watching. I usually don't get that excited about comedians, but Borge just struck such a note with me (bad pun intended), that I'm giddy. Goodnight, everybody!

.......

Aw, what the heck, one more!