It's raining pig poo

Stalemate. Seems to me, that often these days’ things just aren’t getting done. Look in the political world, more often then not, the wheels just aren’t turning. And road construction…my god…the road construction.  Stuff seems to just be standing still lately in the world around us. I don’t think that this is a coincidence. I believe there is a reason. Scientific research today is focusing on the wrong things. How often do you hear about scientific research in the news about cloning, fuel economy, or even what food we should be eating? Will fuel economy help get construction done, will the next big diet trend help pass the Kyoto protocol. I certainly have my doubts. You see all the scientific research is focusing on the wrong things. Cloning may be the closest scientific venture…even though we can’t seem to get into stem cell research without starting a small revolution. Cloning also may help or aid in my purposed solution.

            We need to somehow find a way to affix or grow wings to a pig. That’s right, apparently various hidden scientific arms of foreign governments…IF not OUR own government, have already beaten us to the punch on putting wings on buffalos. The outcome of our all too often apathetic views in life absolutely relies on us getting wings on pigs. Now of course it’d be easy to get the crazy glue out and some manufactured wing looking things, and rig the process itself. This won’t work though, these wings must be functional, and they must serve their purpose. Unfortunately for all of society the purpose of the wings must be flight. I know I know, it’d be so much easier just to strap on some water wings to the pig and make it float, but as I said, these wings must allow the pig to fly. We’ve all heard the expression “When pigs fly”. Typically this phrase is used in reference to when you plan on doing an assigned or requested task. I’ll give you a hundred dollars… (this is the dramatic segway part of the phrase)…when pigs fly.” Oh such a crushing phrase…the initial buildup that the task may get accomplished, only to be thwarted with the revelation of the time….when pigs fly, a time that doesn’t seem to be in the near future. That phrase really toys with the emotions.

            If scientists can give pigs functional wings and a pig successfully takes to the sky, all these “when pigs fly” statements much actually be done. With figs in flight the use of this phrase would be a verbal contract…therefore if the task is not executed, you might have some type of frivolous lawsuit on your hands. Hence, a motivating force to accomplish tasks. Sure the initial tasks may be minor, like mowing the yard, or buying someone a soda. But just think of the things that would get done as the echelon of requested tasks begins to take off. Foreign relations improving, greenhouse gas emissions being reduced and possibly even world peace! Now to be reasonable let’s just say that scientists can’t figure out a way to give modern pigs wings. What if they begin cross-breeding of pigs and. lets say….oh...hmm…ducks. Say this newly “discovered” beast the Puck…or perhaps the Dig, proved to have the finely tuned ability to fly. It’s important though to do the gene splicing just right though. You want to be absolutely sure that the Puck, or say, the Dig, resembles a pig more so then a duck I mean just imagine the embarrassment if after all this work  the people wouldn’t acknowledge this as being a pig, therefore the whole process would be counterproductive and utterly useless.

            Since the ponderplace tries to be as bipartisan as possible we offer all you stupid “Bushy”, fox news inhaling, GOP MOFO’s a solution….in order to be bipartisan of course. To avoid the cloning/stem cell issues there is a more temporary solution. Rocket packs. That’s right, strap on a jet engine to a pig. Currently humans and extreme conservative republicans…have been trying to develop a human equivalent to the pig rocket pack for a great time. Our military has sunk a ton of money into developing a personal rocket pack. We’ve yet to have a good success to flaming death ratio, therefore strapping a rocket pack on a pig who has no opposable thumbs to manage the controls might be a bit of a stretch imagination. But you know what, don’t let that stop you, You know what, good luck with that, get Tom Delay going on that side project, I’m sure he’ll be looking for work soon. Basically I don’t care how it happens, or who does it, but I think it needs to happen. Once pigs are successfully flying an easy scapegoat of apathy will be eliminated. I know that pigs flying and pigs flying alone cannot change apathetic behavior. It is simply just a first step. That’s right I purpose a whole movement against apathy and its scapegoat phrases. My outlined agenda looks like the following:

 

Monday: Begin talks with Satan to see if Hell can become a cold icy place rather then a scolding hot one. My biggest argument is that Freezer Burn is an acceptable replacement to the Burning by Fire. This will eliminate the common phrases such as “…when hell freezes over” or “it’ll be a cold day in hell when…”.

 

Tuesday: Hold a town hall type meeting at the nomadic cow support shelters in large cities. I will try and persuade these nomadic cows that although the grass may seem greener on this side, the grass will once again be green and tasty on that other side. Hopefully this motivational speech will persuade the cows to return to their home rather then live a troubled life on the road. Thus hopefully eliminating the phrase “…when the cow’s come home”.

 

Wednesday: Begin talks with Jane Goodall and other primate experts on deterring the smallest primate classifiable as a monkey. A preferable primate candidate would be a dark cave dwelling primate. There would be another flight related issue, I will await the scientific outcome of the pigs flying, once they get that worked out, this primate’s small size, it’s living in a dark place, and it’s ability flight…might be an excellent way to eliminate the phrase “…when monkeys fly out of my ass/butt”

 

Thursday: Distribute vast amounts of rope tied in knotts. This is a bit of a long shot, but I have a feeling it may be a good first step to eliminating the phrase…NOT!  By the public having a pocket full of knotts, they could hopefully produce results like the following conversation….

 

Person 1:“Hey would you give me a ride to the post office”

Person 2:”Sure, I’ll give you a ride to the post office….NOT!”

Person 1: (reaches into pocket full of knotts), “Oh sure…here you go.” (hands knot to     person 2)

Person 2: “Oh…uh…right…….ok, fine get in the car.”

 

Friday: Nap.

 

Changing the apathetic minds of this country won’t necessarily be easy, but these innitial baby steps could lead to larger steps, which might just change the world for the better. Or it might not…well….I guess I don’t really care that

Phrases, why they work...but really shouldn't

Is nothing more pop influenced and cliché in life then phrases? I don’t think so, well except for maybe Madonna’s new self-image but that’s beside the point and point. How often can you remember phrased being phased in and out of the English dialect? For instance, how many times over the past several years did you hear; “Groovy Baby! Yeah!”, or “Shagadelic baby!”. These and many others have been the creation of the popular Austin Powers series the brainchild of Mike Myers. Now like most pop culture induced sayings, these phrases have drifted off the radar so to speak. I think TV is one of the chief culprits in the phrase making game. “That’s hot” I think everyone and there dog knows that this is Paris Hilton’s signature phrase. “Seacrest Out”….Ryan Seacrest’s sincere interpretation of I have to go know thanks for watching, y’all come back now. Perhaps it is  unfair to blame all television for the cliché phrases that we all get so sick of hearing. There are some channels that I just don’t see as producers of memorable catch phrases. Take for instance the History channel. I have watched the history channel a lot and I’ve yet to find myself slapping an “Andrew Carnegie was totally such a powerful player in the industrial age”, into a conversation among friends. In all fairness I’ve never actually attempted to, but don’t let that discourage you. Let me know how it goes. Movies as you also might imagine may be even a guiltier party for producing these mind numbing sayings. “Where is my automobile…automobile”, ever made immortal by the movie sixteen candles is just one example of the movies catch phrase power.

These are powerful forces my friends but none is more powerful then the following player…one man…responsible for so many clichés. That person is Calvin Broadus. You know who Calvin is you come across him so much today. You see him in movies, you hear him on the radio. You even see him in the news. His popularity with the media and society in general enables a tremendous power of persuasion and influence. I imagine you’re scratching your head right now. Who the hell is Calvin Broadus? Oh…you might not know him by that name. You might know him as the one the only Mr. Dizzle…pho shizzle…Snoop Doggy Dogg. That’s right Snoop may be the leading instigator of catch phrases and not even good ones, just normal catch phrases with “izzie” and “izzle” on the end of normal words. However, most people don’t realize that Snoop didn’t invent these catchy endings to modern words; he just made them better known. The real force behind the frizzlefrazzledizdazzle dialect was Charlie Hustle or E-40. E-40 was a precursor to Snoop’s California rap style. E-40 is the innovator of the “Izzle” it’s all him.  This doesn’t stop Snoop though, I think that Snoop’s acting and music and subject of news is just a clever clever ploy to cover his true hidden agenda. I think snoop is out to take over the dictionary. That’s right I think Snoop wants to infiltrate the English dialects highest regarded reference, the dictionary. He wants izzle and azzle permanently affixed to the end of all modern words. He’s proving to be a dangerous force and just may succeed in his ambition to change the way future generations speak.  To older individuals the phrase “I’m just chillin in the hizzle with Mr. Dizzle scoping some televizzle and drinking my wizzle” may as well be ancient Hebrew. As far as they know this person is retarded and trying to give an account of their sitting on a couch made of ice with their imaginary friend watching some kind of TV device while drinking their own urine. The generational gap is simply much much too great. Snoops type of dialect is definitely an extreme of catch phrases.

On the other side of the catch phrase world are those catch phrases that stuck around, the ones that had staying power. “Rock and Roll”, how many times do you hear this used in completely unnecessary contexts. That’s not as impressive as the fact that we don’t question the unrelated use with the context. We accepted. Just the other day I was telling my supervisor at work I was taking out for the day. He simply responded “rock and roll”. I didn’t stop and question his use of “rock and roll” I knew what he meant; basically this use was to imply “Cool, catch you later take care”. Somehow I just knew what it meant. I didn’t stand there saying…yeah rock and roll is cool, but seriously I’ve got to get going. I just knew what the context was. Why is that? How did I know?  I simply don’t know. Perhaps a certain new period of development is taking part in the human brain. Perhaps the area of our brain that can decipher these catch phrases is somehow utilizing a low level ESP of sorts, the power to know something but not know exactly who. Nothing cool like knowing next week lottery numbers….but the power to reach further to grasp implied statements. Know what I mean….yeah…probably not. In parting there is nothing more annoying then someone who over  utilizes catch phrases someone who has this check list in their head of catch phrases they have to spew out in a day. Come up with your own catch phrase; don’t just steal somebody else’s. Be your own self. Don’t depend on others for your little conversational segways, be inventive, be creative. “Just do it”….er..Uh...I mean yeah “it’s a good thing”…CRAP! I guess all the good ones for this closing are already taken. Rock and roll everybody!

 

 

 

 

This is a test

I'm just testing the email to blog entry thing. To make sure it's all
working cool and stuff. Catch ya soon with a fun new entry.

Gary Gene Hoffman

With Fathers’ day this weekend I think it’s important to take some time and say thank you to your father. If you don’t chances are he might just forget it is fathers’ day…That’s right how many commercials other then sears and home depot even show commercials around father’s day? Not too many I’m willing to wager. In honor of father’s day I decided to take a little time and tell you about my father. My father grew up on a farm outside of Quincy, IL. In a small little town called Adams, a town with a bar and a ball diamond. Funny how many times people using dangerous farm equipment and liquor come into contact with each other….and then the farm equipment with the person. Might explain the no armed farmer I once met who somehow managed to drive a tractor. My father was the second oldest of four children. Between helping on the farm attending school, and participating in various 4H activities my father developed a work ethic that would stay with him through his whole life. After attending college majoring in Business my dad enlisted in the army, was trained, and found himself in Vietnam. My father served in Echo Company doing the strategic positioning of the mortars that fired taking into consideration charge amount and angle of fire. This was an important job because if the measurements were off even slightly there was a chance of heavy friendly fire. After serving for a considerable time, my father had a short leave back to the states. He was faced with a decision. If he served for another tour he could come home and be honorable discharged. If he opted not to go back he would be positioned in different areas here in the states for several years. For some reason my father decided to go back to the jungles of Vietnam. My uncle told me recently that he remembered my father standing, peering out through the bay window at the farm for a long period of time taking in his home. I think my father knew there was a good chance that he may not return home. Upon his completion in the army he was awarded a bronze star, a combat infantry badge and other miscellaneous medals. After returning home my father began teaching economics at Robert Morris College a small college in an even smaller town, which now is sadly ivy covered run down collection of buildings, standing in the shadows of what it once was. My father never liked teaching. I just wasn’t what he enjoyed. Before long he found his way to Springfield Illinois where he worked as an assistant in the Gifted and Talented Program and the Illinois Board of Education. He worked his way up in the ranks here and soon held a respectable position. It was here where my father me my mother. Before long wedding bells were ringing at The Trinity Evangelical Lutheran Church right next to the Capitol building. Then my father did something that nobody expected. My dad decided he had had enough of the “big” city and wanted to be back in the country. My father left his nice office job and took out a large loan to buy the necessary equipment needed to start a Field Tiling Business. This new thing called Field Tiling came about out of an issue with farmer’s fields. When there was heavy rain water could collect in low lying farm fields…the collected water would not drain properly and led to massive headaches with trying to farm those areas. Field Tile served as a plumbing system of sorts for the field, ensuring proper drainage. My Father took a huge financial risk to play in the dirt all day. But eventually the business was a success. My father usually worked long days and took few days off from his job. Besides this he also helped his father with a bulldozing business. If that weren’t enough he also served as Road Commissioner for our Township. His role as road commissioner didn’t make my sister and I the most popular on icy wintery days where if not for my father pulling gout the school bus from the snow banks, a nice day of sledding and snowball fights would have been had by all. I often accompanied my father on his tiling jobs and I’m sure the “help” of a five year old was something that these my father and his workers could do without. However I did serve a purpose when I accompanied him though. You see many times there would be more vehicles then people to drive them. So I became a pickup driver in the fields. That’s right a five year old and a two tone GMC. Despite not being able to see over the steering wheel and hit the gas at the same time, I did a rather impressive job of driving completely alone in the truck. There was one incident where I found a three-foot ditch…the hard way…but no damage was done to the truck or me. I had so much fun playing catch in evenings with my dad. He was an avid golfer and had his own golf cart which my sister and I practically wore the tires off driving it all around the rural property. Somehow I managed to cripple a swing set and lodge the golf cart on a tree stump…but I had a little help from my sister with the tree stump. We had a lot of fun with my dad there in the country. Unfortunately, things took an unexpected turn that would affect everyone. My father was diagnosed with Colon cancer, which was rapidly spreading. I was probably in first or second grade when he started his decline in health. Despite many trips to the countries leading cancer facilities, the cancer was spreading too fast for the doctors to do much. My father in one long series of operations had the majority of his tailbone removed due to the cancer. For a short time the doctors thought they had it. They did not. My dad faced his battle with cancer with the strongest of fighting and stopped at nothing to play down the toll it was taking on him. He fought the cancer with every fiber of his being. He went through practically every chemo treatment and other treatment that might have helped. He was relentless in his search to beat the cancer. Although he fought harder then any adversity faced in Vietnam, cancer proved to be too powerful of a foe. One cold winter day in fourth grade I was summoned to the principals office where I was informed that a friend of the family would be arriving soon to take my sister and I to the hospital. That would be the last time I would talk to my father. When we arrived it was obvious that he was holding on just to say goodbye to us. We entered the dark room with many machines beeping. He told me how much he loved me and even in the face of all the pain that he was going through at that moment he managed to find humor in the situation. He told me “Son if you ever get your ear pierced, I’m going to have your mom buy you a dress”. Needless to say my ears remain unpierced. Only a small amount of time later my father died. I found out later that he had enough morphine in him to take down an elephant. The next week would prove to be tough on everyone. I remember line of people at the visitation. For several hours the line extended out the doors of the funeral home and around the corner into the parking lot. I’d never seen such a consistent stream of people from all walks of life. It’s amazing how you might never know the effect on other people you’ve made in your life until it’s over. I only hope that when I pass away I have a fraction of the crowd that my father had at his visitation. I was nine when my father was buried on a cold December day only weeks before Christmas. I think I took it pretty well considering everything. There were good days and bad days though, much like when my sister without thinking set four places on the dinner table when now three would suffice. Today I stand grown up and I try everyday to fill the shoes of my father. He is even through death my ultimate role model and my hero. I know part of him will always be with me. There is a peace within me that comes from not letting my father’s biggest fear take place. He was so scared that my being young would somehow make me forget him. It never has and it never will. So please take a moment right now and call your father and tell him thank you for being there and for all that he has done. Much like all the people you love in life, you never know when you might loose them, so do all you can to show them how you feel. Silence is the loudest parting words you can ever say.