Hey look! New stuff! I only remembered I had this blog a few days ago, when I read a series of questions and answers that I'd written. I'm now going to post some of them. I think they're damn hilarious.

Here are two of them:

“How did 7-UP get its name?”

Researchers in 1920 St. Louis were attempting to create a mixture of Uranium and Phosphorous (among other things) that would be used primarily to patch holes in drywall, which was in its early life at the time. After six failed attempts, the researchers’ latest of shipment was accidentally swapped with lemon-lime flavoring. Sick from prolonged exposure to radiation, they didn’t notice the difference, despite its extreme obviousness.

They imbibed the new mixture, being the style at the time (and a reason they’d taken leave of their senses to illness), and proclaimed it much tastier than previous iterations.

Not having the connections to sell it on a mass basis, they sold the recipe, then called U-P-7 to a local businessman. The name was later changed to the more memorable one.

“What’s the difference between regular and fancy ketchup?”

Since ketchup became widely produced and distributed in the 1870’s, it has been a favorite among all types of people. However, well-to-do upper-crusters in 1940’s New York felt that ketchup, while delicious, was beneath them. It struck them as something the common folk would like (which they did) and that fact offended the upper class’s delicate sensibilities.

This presented a problem, since giving up ketchup wasn’t an alternative they were willing to consider, but eating the food of the Plebeians just wasn’t done. Millions of dollars were thrown at this problem, hoping an answer would present itself, which it, after enough money was wasted on it, eventually did.

A local start-up business cashed in on this windfall by promising the best and most expensive ketchup the bourgeois had ever seen. Their tomatoes would be grown only in the finest dirt money could buy, then be harvested not by mere people (who were filthy and unkempt), but by sentient machines that were powered by sacks of diamonds. They would then be flown by helicopter, one crate at a time, to a factory constructed on top of an active volcano and processed with machinery made entirely out of gold and platinum. Gold flakes would be added to, and then removed from, the ketchup, as would precious gemstones. The finished ketchup would be bottled in jars made on a special automated plant on the Moon, and then shipped to wealthy estates via jet.

None of this actually changed the taste of the ketchup, but it did make it ludicrously and prohibitively expensive, so only the top 3% of people could afford it, and thusly, the problem was solved.

This “fancy” ketchup was sold for a few decades before someone realized that they could call their own, run-of-the-mill ketchup “fancy” as well. The fancy ketchup you’re likely to eat in a fast food place now probably wasn’t harvested by diamond-powered robots. That ketchup is now called “swank” ketchup. You probably haven’t heard of it because you don’t own an industry-leading corporation.

Over-Apologizing

The biggest problem facing society nowadays, and I'm not talking about financial or security stuff, is the rise of the Entitlement Whore (EW). I didn't make up that phrase. I got from the people here. An EW is someone who thinks the world owes them everything, that their stupid demands should always be met, and cannot handle the slightest grievance like an adult.

I believe it started when 100% Customer Satisfaction became a thing. The whole "The customer's always right" mindset, which is complete and utter BS. The customer is not always usually wrong, but has no concept of how stores are run, what back rooms actually contain, or who is at fault (which is often no one), not to mention the wildly unreasonable demands they have as assumptions.

I could talk about that at length. But I won't, today. It's just a necessary backdrop to my main topic: Overdone Apologies.

Let's say I go to a restaurant. I order a chilled yak's blood latte, and it comes out differently than how I ordered it. I'm sure the waiter(ess) will fall over themselves letting you know how incredibly sorry they are. "I'm SO, SO sorry, sir. SO sorry. I'll get that fixed immediately. I apologize for the state of your drink, sir, and I'll personally get it fixed right now, just as soon as I continue to apologize to you for another 2-3 minutes. Did I mention how utterly sorry I was? I'm finding that the English language is lacking words for me to express my sorryness at this small situation here. I'm feeling as close to 100% pure sorrow as any human in the world has ever felt. I'm SO..." Etc.

So someone messed up. Maybe they used goat's blood instead (a common occurrence). A "whoops, I'll get the right thing," from the server would suffice. For me, at least. All I want is the correct blood in my latte. I don't want to hear how sorry you are. It's not even necessary. No one - especially not the server who didn't even make the thing - purposefully spiked my drink with bottom-shelf goat's blood. It's totally fine, just bring me the correct drink.

But these people serve customers that will totally blow their top if their blood latte comes out a little on the warm side. EW's are not able to react to things in a calm manner. They believe it their right to live a life free of inconvenience, and thusly, explode like a caffeinated hippo-infant throwing the tantrum of its life.

Because of this ridiculously common event, service people need to fall over themselves apologizing. They must let you know how COMPLETELY AND TRULY SORRY they are that you were mildly inconvenienced.

If they don't? The EW will get them fired, because destroying someone's livelihood over a small mistake is totally reasonable.

Doubt

There's something terribly wrong with me, all the time. It's not something I can see or feel, but other people can, at least unknowingly. This can happen across the web too, so it's not completely my body language, although that surely is part of it. Maybe people imagine me when reading my emails.

Anything I say is met with either disbelief or questioning. Here are numerous general examples.


Trivia:
 I know a LOT of useless things. Here are some: Rats cannot vomit; they don't have the reflex. Dolphins are the only other animal (besides us) that have recreational sex. A tesseract is a four-dimensional cube. Viking helmets never had horns. The electronegativity of Chlorine is 3.16.
Now, while you were reading that list, I'll bet you questioned me at some point. To the best of my knowledge, those are all true. However, it doesn't matter, because I said them, so you'll question at least some of them.

Orders:
Anything I tell people to do for any reason must first be questioned. It doesn't matter a lick how mundane or unimportant the order is. Let's say I'm moving, and people are helping me. I say, "Hey, Person, take that box out next."
Could said person just take out the damnable box? Hell no, of course. They must first inform me that there are other boxes that could be taken out first. No matter that they're all just full of the same shit. No no, whatever one I suggested is probably the wrong one. Maybe they'll take it out anyway, but first I must be questioned.

Advice:
Now, everyone knows that humans are by and large incapable of taking advice, especially advice they asked for, but this is still very obvious when I give advice. People will say something like, "Hey Apathy, should I eat this plate full of jagged metal shavings?"
"No," I reply.
"I dunno... it looks really good."
"Sure, but it will cut up your throat and you will drown in blood, which I think we can agree would be an unpleasant situation."
BOOM. Shavings, blood, unpleasantness.


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Free Energy AND Public Health Bonuses

It's a well known and largely documented fact that I'm a genius.
"You sound like an arrogant jerk," you might be saying to yourself. And while that might or might not be just as true, it doesn't change anything.
The other day, as I was engaged in boring work, I had a revolutionary idea. Even I was impressed with myself, and as a pompous and arrogant jerk, that's saying something.

Coal is obviously not a great way to generate energy. Yes, it totally works, but from an environmental standpoint, it's not the bee's knees. Nuclear power, is, from what I can tell, pretty good, but there are, of course, some downsides, which I don't need to elaborate on. Wikipedia will tell you what you want to know.
Solar power would probably be the best by far and away if solar cells were up to snuff (and they're getting there). Wind is what we're doing now. It's good, but I hear a lot of complaining about it, but that's the case with everything. Oh, and hydro power is awesome. Let's keep doing that regardless.

Anyway, here's my idea.
The power company/gov't/whatever builds a gigantic gym or whatever you want to call it. Membership is free. When you join, you are given a card, which you swipe when you use a machine. When you get on a treadmill or bike or use a giant crank, they all spin turbines that generate power. "One guy on one bike isn't generating much energy," you say, because you're a nay saying complainer who finds fault with things. Fine. Let's get twenty bikes all working together to power one gigantic turbine.

This gym would be open twenty-four hours a day, every day. When you swipe your card on a machine, it logs how much you use it, and you - get this now - get paid for the energy you create. Sure, it'll only be a few cents probably, but look at it this way: You can join a gym and pay a high membership fee and all those types of costs. OR, you can go to this gym and get paid a little bit for going. It's more motivation to exercise, which, if most people are like me, they totally need. You'll be running on a treadmill and instead of thinking, "this sucks, I paid to do this when I could be at home having fun," you'll now think, "Just a few more miles and I can get that bigscreen I've been saving for."

People will probably also tell me that we couldn't generate all our power this way. Maybe, maybe not. But if not, are you telling me that, "If we can't do 100%, we shouldn't do it at all?" Because that's a stupid argument. Let's generate some power this way.

Besides, what electric company isn't going to want to do this? Sure, there's a large initial investment (which can probably be subsidized), but after that, all there is is maintenance. People come in voluntarily and generate power for you. You don't need to buy coal, or uranium.

As an incentive, let's say the gov't won't tax the money you get from doing this. So you can exercise, and get tax free money. (That's a pipe dream, I know.) They can still tax the power company, of course.

A google search just now tells me that this isn't a new idea, but apparently generating wide-scale power is.

So there it is. Free energy and public health. Let's get started on this right away, shall we?


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Rudolph: A terrible story

The Rudolph Christmas story is pretty ubiquitous, but I've never been quite sure what the moral is supposed to be. Maybe it's an ugly duckling thing, where as long as you turn out good looking in the end, it's ok: Rudolph had a freak nose, but it's fine because it was useful.

Anyway, the point I always take away from the story is that the other reindeer are assholes. They taunt Rudolph and won't play with him because he's different than they are. So he's got a red nose. Big deal. But these elitist, douchebag reindeer won't let him in. He's totally alone and has no friends. Where's the moral here?

But then! Oh! Rudolph saves Christmas with his bright freak nose. And you know what happens then? Those shallow, snide, two-faced jerks are all buddy-buddy with him now that he's Santa's favorite. Yeah, they were too good for him before, but now that he's famous, they're more than willing to slime up to him and act like friends. Rudolph needs to tell them where to shove it and find some real friends.

I'd link some pictures with the word "Douches" and some arrows pointing at the other reindeer, but they're probably copyrighted and I wouldn't put it past whoever owns it to come get me.

Signs I Don't Understand

There are a few common signs that I don't really see the point in having.

1) No Trespassing

I'm reasonably certain that trespassing isn't ok anywhere at any time. I don't see signs hanging around that say, "No Theft," "No Racketeering," or "No Telemarketing Fraud." They're not necessary. People either already know not to do those things or don't care that they're illegal.
But Trespassing needs to be posted, because we'll apparently assume it's fine otherwise.

Of course, if you live in the Midwest, what the sign really means is, "I'll shoot you if I see you on my property."


2) "Straight Only" Arrows

 

These serve no purpose except to distract you by making you panic that you're in a turn only lane even though you're not. They are completely useless. The arrows that normally exist are on Turn Only lanes. They serve a good purpose. 

However, I didn't know the Straight Only arrows existed until I almost plowed into a Hummer because I thought I was in the wrong lane. But no, I wasn't! There's just some superfluous arrow telling you things you already know in a fashion of a warning.

That's all I can think of. But I dislike them both fervently. Any suggestions?


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Abusing Power

A well known fact is that the only reason to have power is to abuse it as much as you can. The natural reaction to obtaining power is to use it for personal gain at whatever expense is required.
That being said, there is a curve for the temptation of abuse. Here's a graph, because everyone loves graphs.

If you work in a job where your direct boss isn't present for example, you can take advantage of that situation by slacking off almost constantly and acting like doing work is a giant and unexpected hassle, and that the people asking you to perform your job duties are being rude. You can respond to their questions with anger and disdain. You can ignore their petty requests and chat up your friends in plain sight of the petitioner with total impunity. They probably don't even know who your boss is, so they won't complain. Besides, you're the only one that can answer their questions so they'll need to be nice to you no matter how unfair that is.


A lot of people abuse their power, but none quite so cruelly as the young person that got promoted over the more experienced workers. Here's a comic I wrote and my wife drew (backstory in the FAQ page).

A nineteen year old manager is not something you want. It's not something anyone wants, but it happens. They will demean you, and they will order you around. And there's nothing you can reasonably do and expect to keep your job and stay out of prison. NOTHING. You must endure the shame and despair. But not all is lost! After long enough, shame and despair will seem like old friends. And your pal cognitive dissonance will help you convince yourself that it's not so bad. I mean, other people have it way worse than you. Everything's fine! Hell, maybe it's great!


Even nice and well meaning people can be easily corrupted by power. Even if they don't turn totally evil, they will use their power to "make things better." The stumbling block here is that once they obtain power, they obviously know what's best and have the right ideas. Those ideas will be implemented. Even if there's tons of contradictory evidence that says their ideas are like rancid pig vomit, the power stuffed in their ears and clouding their eyes will prevent this information from reaching them. 
But never fear! Cognitive dissonance will still be there to comfort you!

Smiling With Your Eyes

A smile can mean many things, and a lot of what it means depends on what you're doing with your eyes at the time. I've said this to a few people who didn't really believe me, so as a public service announcement, I've whipped up some illustrations to prove my point. We'll start with happy:

This smile is super happy. It is completely genuine. This smile might be shown in response to a Christmas pony or an ice cream sundae that's as big as Idaho, or a similarly-sized state.

Conversely, there is this smile:

This smile is not happy. This is the displaying of teeth when socially obligated to do so. Notice how the eyes convey insincerity. If you're receiving this smile, it's probably not in earnest, and is likely mocking you inwardly or perhaps outwardly.

Moving on with negative-type smiles, there's this one:

This smile is happy, but not for any reason you're going to like. This smile says, "I'm going to harm you right now, and I'm really going to enjoy it." You don't want to receive this smile.

On the other side:

This smile is also not an honest smile. This one comes out when harm is on its way, like on the receiving end of the previous face. Or, in a lesser sense, this one can mean something along the lines of, "I'd actually hate to do that thing you're suggesting, but I'm pretty much hosed and have to anyway."

And finally, there's this:

This face is also honestly happy. It is displayed in response to a pleasing offer, either for sexytimes, or some sort of extreme challenge, like riding an elephant over a gorge.

I hope this has been helpful.

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Interpersonal Interaction

I don't care for talking to people when I'm out and about, so, over the years, I've cultivated an aura of "Don't Talk To Me." This is achieved through an emotionless, laconic manner in general, combined with active and obvious attempts to avoid direct eye contact.

This is most useful when walking through a Sam's Club on the weekends when there's a million sample stands. I just want to get what I came for, pay for those things, and leave. I don't want anything to hold me up from those simple tasks.

But no, I'm a dumbass and I went on a Friday or something stupid like that, so there's a plethora of cheery people trying desperately to initiate eye contact so they can peddle their greasy wares.

I am not interested in their greasy wares. I'm interested in buying my canned chicken and bulk salsa so I can get back to my Xbox.

This is when looking like an angry, brooding loner comes in handy. This is what I try and appear to be in public at all times:

On a side note, this is my first attempt with Paintbrush. I think it turned out well.

However

This mostly works for me. But there are times, rare times, when I want to act friendly to someone. Perhaps the cashier was super nice to the person in front of me, so maybe I'll just smile and say hello like a normal person for once.

However, I still look like the above picture, so this cashier, who was super friendly with the person right in front of me, will totally shut down and barely acknowledge that they're ringing up things for me. And I know they're friendly. I totally saw it.

So I feel bad. Am I also not deserving  of friendliness?

But I go home and that poor humor wears off almost immediately.
And because I thought it'd be funny, here's a picture of me frolicking with my Xbox in a field that has at least four flowers in it.

Swearing = Assertive

It's a well known fact that assertiveness is a desirable trait in potential employees. But how can you make people think you're assertive, even if you're not naturally? The answer is easy: swearing.

Most people are offended by foul language. But if you're some high-powered businessperson and you're looking to hire some go-getters, you need a simple measure of how assertive and "proactive" they are. The obvious choice? How much they swear. Only assertive, forceful people would swear in a business setting.

As a public service, I'm providing below a sample cover letter that would not only get you hired to almost any job, but get you hired at at least double, if not triple or more, the basic salary. The swears will be "asterisk'd," because I'm not really sure about blogspot's stance on rampant swearing and I'm not going to chance it.

Apathy
29376 Assertiveness Drive
Confidencetown, XV

SomeCorp
9347 Business Lane
Borington, OM

Octember 8th, 3029

F*ck yeah, motherf*ckers,

Sh*t. I'm Apathy. I'm not going to bother talking about any f*cking certifications I have, because I don't need to. I'm applying for -insert job-, so you can throw all the other piece of sh*t resumes in the garbage.

F*ck.

You can contact me by email only. DO NOT CALL ME. I hate phones. Thank you for hiring me. I'll need at least double base pay and 16 weeks vacation a year.

Sh*t,

     - Apathy

Other Appropriate Times For Swearing

Any time you clap for anything, at an opera for example, swearing is the next step up for showing your appreciation. Clapping is good, but clapping while yelling, "Sh*t a$$ f*ck balls sh*t hell that was awesome!" lets the people know you really liked what you saw.
This applies to literally any clapping situation, like at the symphony, a formal lecture, or a child's ballet recital.

Creating Your Own Swears

Swearing is an art form, just like any other rhetorical craft. And so, you need not be limited by existing swears. Almost anything can become a swear if uttered vehemently enough and in the right context. Also, combining existing swears is an excellent way for the novice swearer to be more creative. Instead of saying, "That was a f*cking good movie," one could say, "That was a f*ck-a$$ing, horse-flaming sh*t-hell of a movie!" Your friends will be impressed at your vastly growing lexicon of swears, and you'll be the toast of the town.
Or, instead of saying, "I really liked the pancakes this morning, Mom," you could say, "F*ck! Those pancakes beat the sh*t out of every other damn-hell-a$$ pancakes ever, Mom!" She will be pleased that you enjoyed the breakfast so much, and that you thought to compliment her so forcefully.

As a side note, if you all would like to swear in the comments, I'd be nothing but a hypocrite if I asked you not to, but at least censor them lightly as I have.

Why Self-Check Machines Are Great

The self check machines in grocery stores are one of the best inventions ever. I know a lot of people dislike them, but the fact is that they're awesome.

The first and foremost reason is that they don't involve interacting with another human being, which, if you read my last post, you'll understand is an objectionable task for me. I enjoy the cold comforts of automated phone systems and humanless grocery-purchasing.

The second reason I like them is that they're faster. In the standard lanes, I'll get stuck standing behind A) someone doing the shopping for a household and has a cart overflowing with crap that will take up three belt's worth of space B) The Coupon Queen (not always a woman) who insists their expired and/or irrelevant coupons are valid and will not take no for an answer or C) someone on WIC who doesn't understand that Kraft singles are "cheese food" and don't count as real cheese and loudly debates said fact with the wretched cashier who knows better.

In the self check lane, I can scan my own small amount of items and shove them into a bag in the time it would have taken me to look over the tabloids and get worked into a boiling rage over how stupid humanity is.

The  number one reason that the self checks are great, however, is for when you need to buy embarrassing products and don't feel like showing them to strangers. Here's an example:
We had moved into our new house a few months ago and the washing machine wasn't in yet and wouldn't be for a few more days. However, I was out of clean underpants.
Going to a laundromat is also an objectionable task, so I chose the sensible option of buying more. So I went to the Meijer (for those outside the Midwest, it's like Walmart or Target). While I was there, I realized I also needed more Pepto Bismol, as I get heartburn often and was out.
I was merrily on my way to the check lanes when I realized what sort of mental image this might conjure for anyone else.

If I'd been forced to go through a checkout lane, I would have invariably been helped by an attractive, age-similar woman who would kindly, but futilely, try and hide her giggles when I handed her my things. I would blush fervently and try to avoid eye contact while simultaneously trying to look like I wasn't the least bit embarrassed by this. I might even blabber out some joke about the situation which would have sounded good in my head, but as it left my lips, I'd have realized it was much less clever than I had imagined and would only have cemented the idea that I'm buying these things not by chance, but in response to an unanticipated bout of explosive diarrhea.
I would quickly but awkwardly pay for my purchases and leave, head held in shame, so I can go home and replay the entire depraved situation in my mind over and over again.
This would also have the added bonus of making me too ashamed to go to that store ever again on the off chance that the cashier would see me and recognize me as the Underwear/Pepto Guy. I'd be driving across town for a wildly less convenient but potentially less embarrassing store.

But no! That didn't need to happen! The cold, inanimate self-check and its feminine yet lifeless voice circumvented this atrocity and passed no judgement on me. I walked out of the store, my antacid and underwear firmly in hand (in an mostly opaque bag).

Living as an Introvert, Part One

I've often wondered what it's like to be an extrovert, strutting about life bold as you like, brazenly displaying your teeth and proclaiming audible utterances to other humans with casual disregard to the entire situation.

 Must be nice.

Then there's the low-grade misery that life becomes when you're an introvert. All the little tasks in life are made worse by a constant, nagging anxiety and pervasive fear that everyone will see you as the fool you are. Even the most mundane of tasks become completely intolerable.

The phone is one of my personal nemeses.

 Nothing about the phone is appealing. It might lure you in with siren calls of anonymity and the option of not personally interacting with people, but all it really presents you with is a disembodied voice with no comforting context or distractions and a quick, vicious tendency to judge and belittle you, made all that more poignant because you're sitting in the "safe" surroundings of the familiar.

I fumble around ordering takeout, despite having the menu directly in front of my face with my pre-chosen selections clearly marked and the pronunciations of said items worked out in my head. Still, I fail.
When I call a company to "check in" on a resume I've submitted (an unequivocally stupid process), I've no idea what to say. It usually comes out as, "Hi. I submitted a resume. Now I'm required to call to let you know I didn't do that by mistake. This is that call. It's your turn to talk now." Seriously, what am I supposed to say? I'm just calling to call, and we both know it.
I would never have a job that involved cold-calling people. I'd move back in with my parents before that, and I'm pretty convinced that I'd be homeless first, too.

Where to sit in a classroom was another problem that plagued my days of college.

Upon entering any classroom, I would immediately size up the seating situation. There are clear zones with positive and negative attributes (see diagram below). I'm assuming a normal, rectangular room here.

 Zone A is the worst possible place, of course. At the front, you're not only face to face with someone who might talk directly to you, but you're perceived as wanting such things by being there. Also, everyone can see you, but you cannot see them. This zone is unacceptable at all times. The only time you would actually sit here is when arriving to a class late (horrible enough anyway) and the only options are to quickly sit in the front, or climb over people for a more desirable seat further back, while everyone waits and watches.
Zones B, the sides - but not in the front or back row - are the best possible introverted zones. You have the cold comfort of the inanimate wall beside you, less people around you, and are rarely a priority target for instructors.
Zone C, the entire middle, is somewhat of a balanced place. It's awful in that you're surrounded by people with whom you might inadvertently make eye contact or that might initiate a quiet conversation or inquiry, but you're also lost in a sea of people and your chances of being called upon are low.
Zone D is a gamble. The back of the room is the knee-jerk place for introverts to sit, and a lot of times this is the best place, far away from the front, with one or possibly two walls for comfort. However, this can sometimes, with sadistic instructors, turn into a front row situation. Some people are unfamiliar with the mindset of the introvert and are personally offended by our lack of speech. Unable to let this aberrant behavior slide, they will mercilessly call on the back row, whom they know sat there because they didn't want to answer questions in front of a group. Jerks.

Any room situation can be processed by the introverted mind instantaneously, because pausing at the door and thinking about where to sit appears foolish, which is, of course, the worst thing ever. We must walk unflinchingly into rooms and choose seats quickly and as if we gave it little thought. Because that's what everyone does, right? If only.