Which Fruit Got Adam and Eve Kicked Out?

There I stood, a man on a mission with a single objective, and it all rested in the hands of a twenty-something with a trendy shirt and a pair of headphones.

“Well, we can schedule you in for something later this afternoon if you’d like to wait around,” she advised in a tone that suggested she cared about my patronage about as much as she did her last bowel movement. As I was both desperate and bored, I caved and stood outside the establishment until I was ushered in fifteen minutes later.

At this point, you may be asking yourself where I am for this interesting anecdote. Fancy new nightclub? The hottest new restaurant in town? Premiere of this season’s biggest blockbuster? False, false and false. Correct answer: the mall; specifically…the Apple Store.

That’s right loyal readers; this entire hubbub was to simply get into a store at the mall. My iPod had the misfortune of breaking this summer, so I thought it would behoove me to take it to the local Apple establishment to see what a repair job would cost me. I was a fool; a poor, naïve fool. While no fan of the mall, there are certain accepted aspects of the concept. Chief among these is the cherished social practice of window shopping. It’s why stores like Sharper Image have any customer base at all. The premise is simple enough: your bored ass walks into a store to see what goods they deal. Although you have no intention of purchasing anything, you secretly (or maybe not so secretly) begin to take an inventory of the things that would like to purchase. Apparently, Apple did not get the memo when they set up shop in such a location. The iBouncers that were guarding the shop interior would only let in customers who, “were not going to browse and knew that they were going to make a purchase.” This merely a polite way of saying, “Buy something or get out!”

As I had a legitimate cause, I was eventually allowed entry. Once inside, I was treated to a veritable factory model of dealing with customers. The iDouche at the counter told me that the only thing they could do was trade in my iPod for another at a cost far higher than I was expecting. Is it that fucking hard to repair an LCD screen? All they’ll do is trade it in for an equal or better model. Does this make sense in any other industry? What would you do if your mechanic said, “Well, you’ve got yourself a flat tire there. I’ll tell you what I’ll do for you. You can trade your Honda Civic in for a brand new Lamborghini Gallardo for only $120,000.” The correct response is, “Eat shit and die of a slow, painful disease.”

I politely told the iPrick this, but not before glancing at the shelves of pretentious Apple goods in the store. That’s right, I went in, didn’t buy anything, and looked at the merchandise. That’s called browsing. Fuckers.

I’ve already had a problem with Steve Jobs’ little cottage industry. Apple is responsible for more assholes, douchebags, and false senses of superiority than any other good in the history of free enterprise. Not that everyone who uses an iPod or an iPhone is like this (except folks who use Apple computers. You are all pretentious assholes. Deal with that fact). Some merely use the trendiness as an attempt to validate themselves in an extended version of wanting to sit in the back of the bus with the cool kids.

If Apple is going to survive once the competition catches up with them in terms of technology, they better get their shit together. For starters, quit acting like your crap is the beat all and end all of gadgets. You’re cool because you did it first. The funny thing about first is that it tends to get forgotten once second and third come along. Second, treat your customers like goddamned human beings and not plug-in jacks for your over-hyped, over-priced shit. The people will catch on eventually and then you’ll have to invent the iJack that strokes your sense of self-worth for you since no one else will give a furry rat’s ass anymore.

Oh, and Steve Jobs, you are now right under Alex Trebek on my “Punch You In The Throat If I Ever Meet You” list. Watch your ass.

P.S. It’s good to be back. I know y’all missed me.

The Meaty Truth

Upon further review, I have decided to abandon any more discussion of politics, so my fix-it plan for this country will stay in my head. Instead, I've got a bee in my bonnet that has irritated me enough that I have to go on my second rant in as many posts.

The bee goes by the name of PETA. You've all heard of these guys, the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals. They pride themselves as the largest animal rights group in the country and see themselves as the ultimate champions of defending animals from cruel and inhumane behavior. Sounds good, right? Save all of the cute fuzzies from mean ol' humans like us, that's what PETA wants you to believe their mission is...it's a quaint idea, ain't it? I like protecting animals. My cat is a rescued stray. I swerve to avoid hitting cute little turtles and squirrels. I understand and respect the way in which animals are prepared for the nourishment of my body. Guess what? PETA hates guys like me.

Here's PETA's philosophy in a nutshell. They want total animal liberation from the slave chains of humanity. You can look it up on their website, that's what it says. That means no meat, no horseback riding, no products derived from animals, no pets (this is the one they trick you on...suckers), and no animal biomedical testing. To them, animals are our slaves and need to be liberated. I'm gonna call shenanigans on them right there! I refuse to believe that animals are our complete moral equals. I respect life in all of its forms, but I am not about to put a chicken on par with even the lowest scumbag on earth. When a cow can debate philosophy with me, then I may consider putting down the burger, but so far, none have stepped up. Why are pets slaves? My mother had a dog for twelve years, and I literally had to compete for her attention with a 14-pound miniature poodle. It's funny, I don't remember that part from Uncle Tom's Cabin. Animal testing? I think there are millions of Type A diabetics alone who would have a bone to pick there. And I won't even go into the whole "The Holocaust on Your Plate" campaign. I don't have enough nasty words in my vocabulary to talk about that; go look it up for yourself if you're interested.

Now these are all ideological concerns; they don't hurt anybody. It's just something to discuss in the salons with booze-hound writers and corpulent French women. What really pisses me off about PETA, and I mean REALLY pisses me of is their actions, especially the ones they don't want all of their naive members to know about.

Item 1: The offensive protests that they stage, especially the ones that destroy personal property. If some asshole came up to me and poured red paint onto my favorite leather jacket, I would face a difficult decision: do I (A) Punch the fucker in the face for messing up my shit, or (B) Punch the fucker in the face for messing up my shit, and then steal his wallet so that I can buy a new jacket. The second one is a little more ironic, but stealing is wrong after all.

Item 2: PETA is a not-so-silent partner for groups such as ALF. No I'm not talking about the awesomely hilarious alien from the 80's, it's the Animal Liberation Front, a domestic terrorist organization that firebombs medical testing facilities and other illegal-type activities on behalf of woodland critters. Yep, PETA funds terrorists. I'm not making this shit up. The funds are visible on their tax returns, going to people like Rodney Coronado, a convicted arsonist. Do you PETA members like being associated with terrorists? Hey, PETA: the next time you want to take out a lab, you might want to try flying a plane into it, I've heard that gets pretty good results.

Item 3: I won't sugar-coat this one. PETA has euthanized anywhere from 60-80% of the animals that it rescues annually. It kinda speaks for itself, doesn't it? petakillsanimals.com has all the info you want on that.

Now, this is the part where I pull over and make my little warning to any of you who might misinterpret my words here. I am not attacking vegetarians, conservationists, or those who believe in preventing cruelty to animals. These are all individual lifestyle choices, and it is your right to choose them, especially that last one. Nobody wants to be cruel to animals. The issue merely lies in the differing opinions of what is cruel. But if you want to make your voice heard, please, please, don't do it through PETA. Don't let their pretty celebrities and Disney double-talk fool you, they are not what they seem.

Again, I did not make these facts up. Do a little research and see for yourself.

What do I want to see happen? First, I want to see Ingrid Newkirk, PETA's founder and President, locked in a cage with either a grizzly bear, a honey badger, or a horny, adolescent chimpanzee, her choice, and then let nature take its course. Second...you know what...I think I'll just take the cage for now.

Get It Done!

It's time for a good ol' fashioned rant. It's not against any one particular person or thing, but really more a group of people, or at least a particular mindset. It all began this morning. I was up late on Sunday night reading for a Monday class and getting all of my notes done so that I would be prepared for class. So I go, and what happens? Class gets called early because apparently nobody else read, so the discussion couldn't progress, so class was effectively off until our last meeting on Wednesday. That kind of shit just really pisses me off. I come off looking like a jackass even though I was prepared for class; I was even contributing to the discussion, the only problem was that no one else was. Actually, I knew that at least two other people had read, but the three of us were not able to carry the whole class. There were seven other people in there who were just fishing for answers like they were the smartest damn people in the world and nobody would notice.

Now don't get me wrong, I am not claiming to be the model student; far from it. I am just as lazy as the next guy when it comes to school work, but when I have to do something, I make damn sure to get it done! I admit that I skim at least 90% of my required readings, but I can extract the main ideas and articulate those into well thought-out notes. I don't just blow something off because things are, "getting a little rough." School is not supposed to be easy, if it was, everybody would have a college degree and the concept of higher education would be rendered virtually meaningless.

And then people try to hide behind the fact that it's finals time, so they don't have time to worry about all of the little assignments. BULL-SHIT! Other work does not suddenly lose all value because something bigger and more important came along. Don't get me wrong, prioritizing is one of the most important life skills to possess, unfortunately I don't think many people know how to do it right. If you're in school and you have school work to get done, then by God, get it done. If you're in school and school work is not at least in your top five priorities (among such things as a job, a family, and maybe a couple of other pressing issues), you might want to reevaluate your desire to be a student.

It's ok to procrasitnate (I do it all the time; hell, I'm doing it right now) but get that shit done. Don't wait until the eleventh hour just to say, "eh, fuck it." Do the gaddamn work that is required to do. You wouldn't pull this crap at a job, would you?

"Sorry, boss. I was goona do that report, but I just didn't have time to get it done 'cuz I just have so much else to do."

"Oh, that's ok, you go ahead and take some extra time to do that, because now that you don't have a job anymore, you'll have more than enough time to get your stuff done."

Am I the only one that feels like the number of people who will honor an obligation no matter what is dropping to a dangerously low level? Is doing what you are expected to do such an extreme request? Maybe I'm just blessed with the ability to half-ass and bullshit well, but at least I get it done. I put forth an effort, and I expect the people with whom I go to class to do the same. And it's not because you're doing yourself a disservice. I don't really give a rat's ass what you do with your life, but it compromises my learning, and I don't go to school to put up with your mute ass sitting there with bargain-fish-market eyes and getting my class cancelled so that I don't get the benefit of a scholarly discussion.

If I wanted to sit in a room and get nothing done, I'd commit myself to an asylum!