Weblog Sin Pies

By Trevor Ryan

I feel that in general I’m a very accepting person … well, I take that back. I’m very accepting of groups of people to a much greater degree than I am of individuals, and I’ve long grown out of that phase where I feel the need to put others down strictly to feel better about myself. But the one group of people that throws that whole architecture out of whack is the Amish. Can somebody please tell me what is going on here?

The Amish are the worst. I mean this in the nicest possible way, but they truly are. Why, you ask? For a number of reasons, not the least of which is that the Amish are so amicable that to put them down makes me feel worse about myself, which is clearly not how this sort of thing is meant to go down. In fact, as a whole, the Amish act as if every day is opposite day, not just when you’re feeling sassy and suggest that to someone to drive him or her nuts.

While I’ve never even experienced an entire opposite day, I have driven through Amish country (see, it sounds like “bear country” or “snake country” because there are no actual boundaries, which is unnatural. Well, for people anyway) and I can attest to the fact that it’s coo-coo over there. Suppose you’re Amish and you need to go somewhere. Hop in the car, right? Wrong. No car for you, because as far as the Amish are concerned, cars are evil or something. Well, I think my car is evil, so that’s a start, but generally they are not only not evil, but also quite convenient. In fact, the evil of my own vehicle corresponds directly to the substandard degree to which it works. “Aha!” cries the Amish guy who accidentally went online and read this, “But convenience in and of itself is evil.”

(Continued)

By Charley Daniels

Just when you thought phones couldn’t get any smaller … I’ve begun this post in a way that makes it difficult for me to get right to the point, which is that the phone I’m about to describe is actually quite big. If I was a better storyteller, I could have done it but alas, I am who I am.

Telephoneboxing combines all of the convenience of over-the-wire conversation with that easy-to-neglect combat sport training. Just punch in the number you want to call. Literally. Digits are located around the 20-foot space and with some high neon shorts, boxing gloves, and a mean right hook you can be chatting in minutes.

Once the number is dialed, stand in the right spot to access the speakerphone.

One has to stand in one specific spot and speak loudly to be heard. The answer can be heard on a spot a few meters further into the container.

That seems frustrating as hell. Seriously, if I had to run back and forth to alternately talk and listen while I’m trying to communicate I’d want to punch someth– … aaaah.

[via Gizmodo]

By Trevor Ryan

I can’t wait for space tourism, and if you don’t like it, then I may no longer like you. That’s the long version of this title. There are many people out there who will whine and complain over what is arguably the next step toward the inevitable — getting the heck out of this place. I know, I know. We should save the planet for as long as we can, but after a certain point, let’s face it. The sun will blow up. Like an abusive stepdad who came home drunk, the sun will unleash its unyielding fury of whiskey-tainted punishment, and beat our tender hides back into the vapor state (worse state to be in than PA). so this is why we have to start building spaceships to take rides on. Keep the sun thinking we’re still not moving out. “No, no, The Sun,” we’ll coo, “we’re not going anywhere. We just want a better view of our dumb old house, the Earth.” Then, when the sun least expects it, we’ll blast off into the future, where we’ll meet lots of available space women.

But for real, people. Join the space race, cause it’s more like a space jog-a-thon at this point. Even old people like John Glenn are going to space in this day and age. If John — actually, let’s call him “old man Glenn” to make it more homey and familiar — if old man Glenn’s going, shouldn’t you be able to get off your couch and go as well? Or are you less space-worthy than an old man?

The good people at Space Adventures are working it up for as early as 2008. Maybe you should get in line now. Call and ask! Just dial 1-888-85-SPACE! I’m actually not kidding. Call ’em! In fact, when you do, say you were referred by me. I don’t know if they have a punch card thing where you can save up points for a free space flight, but if they do, maybe I can get one. So don’t forget.

In the meantime, while you’re waiting in line, please help the cause by launching your crap into space, like your fingernails, or friend’s ashes or something. Better yet, make it something that underprivileged alien children can play with. Oh, wait, that was covered with fingernails, which contain your DNA. They’ll think of something good to do with that!

By Trevor Ryan

When I read the headline “Parents of Caged Kids Lose Custody” today, I did a double-take. It was as if there was a headline “Sky Remains Blue on Sunny Days,” or “Priest Accused of Child Molestation.” Some things are the way they are because that’s just the way things are (yes, I re-read this sentence and I stand by it). What I mean to say is, if you lock your kids in cages, they will inevitably be taken away from you, much like if you are a priest and you molest a child, you will inevitably be harshly punished by being quietly relocated. It’s the way things work, just like in that book … you know the one … “Crime and Punishment.” In the end though, isn’t it ironic that the very things that we do to keep our children close to us (like put them in cages) are ultimately the acts that drive them away? Or at least … get them rescued? I think we can all learn from the experiences of this family. Don’t lock your kids in cages, because it is cruel, jerk.

By Trevor Ryan

When I first saw the trailer for “Snakes on a Plane” on YouTube, I naturally thought it was a joke. I was impressed by the visual effects these amateurs conjured up, going so far as to make it look like Samuel L. Jackson was actually in it, battling snakes. Please go watch it now. I’ll wait … .

Ok … then I read some of the comments people had left, and thought, “Silly people, they think this is real!” But then I thought … “Maybe it is real.” So I went to the Internet Movie Database, and confirmed its existence. Now I don’t know what to think. Not so much about the movie, but about the world in general, and the movie business specifically. I wonder what the pitch was like … “so there are these snakes, and they’re on a plane. Have a good day.” Maybe that’s not how it went, but I hope so. Now go ahead, watch the trailer again. I did.