Death: The Final Frontier

In the movie "When Harry Met Sally," Harry and Sally were talking on the phone when Sally burst into tears because she was going to turn 40. Harry replied, "But that's not for years." To which Sally tearfully replied, "Yeah, but it's out there."  

Death has me concerned. There is a whole sector of the population that keeps insisting that death is 'out there' for everyone. Some people keep insisting that it might even happen to me someday. I'm not a big fan of death. I hate when it happens to people I know and I'm even less enthusiastic about the idea that it might happen to me. There's a tiny, tiny part in the back of my brain, one particular brain cell perhaps, that keeps trying to speak up and tell me that some day I may even die. Fortunately all the other brain cells called a meeting and decided to shout down this one rebel cell whenever it decides to open it's big, fat piehole.

I've decided to try a different approach to death. Well, a different approach to my potential death. Death is fine for other people, but I'm just not going to do it. The way I look at it is this: Death has never happened to me before, so where is the proof that it's going to happen to me? I've successfully made it past age 27, so I'm not even eligible for that club anymore.  Just because mankind had never successfully flown before the Wright brothers, they didn't just give up and stay on the ground did they? I think too many people give in to the myth that is death. Think about it. When you were a kid and you stopped believing in Santa Claus, he stopped existing for you didn't he? Well, has anyone ever decided not to believe in death? That's my plan. Like I said, it's never happened to me, so I have no proof that it will. 

Lucky for you, my impending lack of fatality means that I'll keep blogging, so feel free to follow me on Twitter @ThePhilFactor or subscribe to The Phil Factor on your Amazon Kindle for all eternity. Just remember to put it in your will that your Phil Factor subscription must be maintained for generations after you pass. 

 

Jesus of Suburbia

Well, it happened again. God spoke to someone through the image of Jesus Christ on a receipt from a South Carolina Walmart. Oh wait, that's never happened before. Apparently Gentry Lee Sutherland and her fiancee' Jacob Simmons (yes, her name is 'Gentry Lee'. If that isn't a sign her parents worshipped Satan I don't know what is) picked up a few things at Walmart, left the receipt on their kitchen table and a few days later when they looked at the receipt the image of Jesus Christ was on the receipt. Then again, take a look at that picture, how can we be sure that's not Osama Bin Laden or Ted Nugent speaking to us through the receipt? And if it is Ted Nugent, I'm curious about what he has to say. He hasn't put out an album in like forever!

I've got to give credit to whomever is speaking through the Walmart receipt. Apparently they've given up the age-old, tried and true method of speaking to their followers by placing their image on toast, pancakes, potato chips, or a water stain on a wall. Think about it; if you are an omnipotent deity with cosmic powers, are you going to screw around putting your likeness on something that by chance could fall into the hands or mouth of an atheist at a pub who looks at his cheese doodle and says, "Oh look Ted, it looks like a face in my cheese doodle, crunch, crunch, crunch. Hey bartender, we're out of cheese doodles over here." 

If God is an omnipotent deity with cosmic powers and does want to speak to his or her followers (See? I put his or her. Look how enlightened I am. I hear the chicks dig that),  why wouldn't he or she send us all a text message? I'm pretty sure that omnipotence includes mastery of modern technology. Or perhaps take over cable t.v.? "Hi everyone, this is God here. I'd like to interrupt your regularly scheduled programming for this important message..."

When I'm a deity I'm not going to waste my time putting my face in snack foods or receipts. People will wake up one day and suddenly there will be an extra head on Mt. Rushmore, or the Eiffel Tower will be bent into the shape of my profile. That's how you get the word out that you're the guy to worship. Either these snack food/receipt  Gods aren't very bright, or the people who see them are just seeing what they want to see. And if putting your face in people's food is the way Gods go about getting publicity, why doesn't anyone claim to see Satan in their Corn Flakes? If Coke is running a big add campaign you can bet Pepsi will counter it. Satan needs to get off his fiery, red ass and get to work. He's losing customers. Then again, how many of you women have eaten a whole pint of Ben & Jerry's while watching a Lifetime movie on a lonely Saturday night and said, "The devil made me do it"?

If you get the reference in the title of this post and explain it in a comment below you win 10,000 Phil Factor points that can be redeemed for a t-shirt at The Phil Factor gift shop. If you enjoy my nonsense follow me on Twitter @ThePhilFactor or subscribe to The Phil Factor on your Amazon Kindle so that you can say "I knew him before he started showing up on people's receipts and potato chips."

The Present Tense

How we communicate, what's important to us, and the inequities of societal grooming expectations are all ways men and women differ. Another great divide between the sexes is our views on presents. Anniversaries, birthdays, Valentine's Day, and Christmas can all make or break a relationship from a woman's perspective. My current quandary is Mrs. Phil's birthday is coming up in a couple weeks and I have the pressure of choosing a present.  My problem is that I think of presents like a guy and she thinks of presents like a woman. Here are a few examples of how men and women might view the same present differently and why I'm terrified of choosing and may just give her cash:

Example 1
Guy: “Happy Anniversary honey! Here's a card, a dozen roses, and I've taken out a second mortgage so I can fly you to Paris for a candlelight dinner on top of the Eiffel Tower!”
Woman: “You are so sweet! With all my work this week I didn't have time to get you a present. I'm sorry. How about if I make it up to you (wink, wink) back at the hotel after dinner?” (sly smile)
Guy: “YAHTZEE!” (fist pump)

Example 2:
Woman: “Happy Anniversary honey! Here's a card and a present!”
Guy: “An Ipad3! Thanks baby, this is great! With all my work this week I didn't have time to get you a present. I'm sorry. How about if I make it up to you (wink, wink) in the bedroom tonight?” (sly smile)
Woman: “You forgot! How could you be so thoughtless?!!? You can sleep on the couch tonight! (storms out, door slams)

(Calm down all you tech geeks, the IPad 3 isn't out yet) Sometimes even the presents themselves can mean different things to men and women. Here are some examples of presents men might give, how we mean them, and what they mean to women.

1. A romantic card with breakfast in bed, flowers sent to your work, and a nice dinner out.
What men are trying to say: "Will you sleep with me?"
What women think: "He's a sweet, thoughtful guy."

2. A safety kit for your car with road flares, tools, and a shovel.
What men are trying to say: "I love you and I want you to be safe."
What women think: "What a thoughtless, un-romantic oaf."

3. Lingerie
What men are trying to say: "I think you are a beautiful, sexy woman."
What women think: "That selfish bastard is thinking with his little head instead of his big head."

4. Any kind of home appliance
What men are trying to say: "I've noticed how hard you work. I want to make your life easier."
What women think: "If this isn't grounds for justifiable homicide, I don't know what is!"

All of this thinking out loud isn't getting me any closer to choosing a present. If you've got any suggestions I'd love to hear them in the comments section below. If you enjoy my nonsense follow me on Twitter @ThePhilFactor or subscribe to my blog on your Amazon Kindle so you never miss an issue and so I can afford to buy my wife a birthday present that compensates her adequately for being married to me.

A Simple Solution to the Governments Debt Problem

Remember when you were a kid and your parents, with a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other, would tell you "Do as I say, not as I do" Maybe that was just my parents, but you get the jist. Very often parents and other authority figures are hypocrites, including the U.S. government. Apparently our government has gotten itself in a bit of a pickle. They must have missed those catchy freecreditreport.com commercials because they've almost reached their credit limit. Unless they do some voodoo lawmaking magic our government could default on their loans in the next couple weeks.  Really, how can the government default on their loans? Didn't they read that section on the statement that says it will take you 27 years to pay it off if you only pay the minimum? They should have chosen the 3 year amount. 

Dear President Obama, why is this a big deal? You are the United States of America! Who cares if you pay your loans back? Really, is there any chance that Tony Soprano is going to show up at the back door of the White House and break your kneecaps Kerrigan-style? Who exactly is asking us to pay these loans back right now? We are the world's bully. Nobody takes our lunch money!

Why can't Barack just call up Visa, Mastercard or Germany and ask them to increase the credit limit? It's what I would do. Wouldn't you? Maybe even ask for the same APR and 0% interest the new customers get until 2012. How can the IRS demand we pay our back taxes if they're not doing the same?  Or here's an idea, how about just print up some new money to pay those loans back? "Oh no that would cause inflation!" Really? How would printing new money cause inflation, especially if you don't tell anyone you printed the extra money? Especially don't tell Ben Bernanke. That guy is just a pain in all our asses with his interest rate roller coaster that nobody can understand. Maybe the government can write a check and just post date it until they have the money? Or just forget to to sign the check to buy some time.  This is just the kind of out of the box thinking I'll implement when I'm elected President, or Sexiest Man Alive, whichever comes first. Although if the government can't sort this out before then maybe we'll see our congressman in pirate costumes working at restaurants like the guy in the freecreditreport.com commercial. Of course lately it would be nice to see our congressmen with any kind of shirt on. 

I just want to give a little shout out to Barack, since I know Michelle subscribes to my blog on her Kindle. Look Barack, since I'm just rolling in dough from all the new subscribers I have through Kindle I'd be happy to float you a little short term loan at reasonable interest rates until you and the government can get back on your feet again. Just leave me a message in the comments section below and I'll get back to you. 

If you enjoy my nonsense feel free to follow me on Twitter @ThePhilFactor or subscribe on your Amazon Kindle, just like Michelle Obama, so you'll never miss a column.

The Point Is Probably Moot. Or Is It?

"No, I'm pretty sure it's not a mute point. If it were a mute point you wouldn't be saying it aloud to me right now would you?" Is what I wanted to say. I also wanted to say, "And don't you hate when all those mimes act like they're moot when they can't get out of their invisible box?" 

Is it really that tough? C'mon people! They are two distinctly different words with different spellings, meanings, and pronunciations! And I'm not talking about people with limited education! On and on it goes. Everyday some person in a position of authority, or esteem, or which requires higher education uses one of those words incorrectly! Of course when I am interacting with these people in a professional capacity I cannot shout my frustration about their idiocy. In those situations I choose to pretend I have selective mootism. See?!!? See how stupid it looks when someone uses them oppositely? Reluctantly I have to admit that probably the only reason I know the difference is that in 1982 Rick Springfield told us all that "the point is probably moot." And that, sadly, is information that maybe I should have kept mute about. 

When I become President, or Sexiest Man Alive, whichever comes first, I am going to pass a law allowing everyone to make a Citizen's Arrest of anyone who confuses these two words. Much like bad drivers who are ordered to attend a defensive driving class, the moot/mute people will have to go to a special class to learn the difference between these and other homonyms. I only hope that when these dolts are in class they remain moot so everyone can hear what the instructor is saying.

On a marginally related point, The band Mute Math is really very good. I enjoy them immensely and highly recommend them. I wonder how their career might have turned out differently if they were Moot Math? If you looked at my high school transcript you'd see that math was a pretty mute subject for me. In fact you could say that my grades would imply that the instructors might have been moot. Or is that mute?  "And she's watchin' him with those eyes..." Now you'll have that song stuck in your head all day won't you? You're welcome.

If you enjoy my nonesense feel free to follow me on Twitter @ThePhilFactor and now you can subscribe to The Phil Factor on your Amazon Kindle so you'll never miss one no matter where you are.

 

Little City, Big Dreams

These little town blues, are melting away

I’m gonna make a brand new start of it - in old New York

And if i can make it there, i’m gonna make it anywhere

It's up to you - New York, New York

Frank Sinatra

I live in New York, but I don't live in New York City. I realize that for many people outside of New York state it's news that New York City isn't the entirety of New York. For those of you not familiar with our geography, New York is a fairly big state with several other medium sized cities. . Perhaps it's because of New York City that the other cities in the state have an inferiority complex. My city wants to be big and wants to have big, important things happen here. We grasp desperately to any straw of fame that one of our natives achieves. Nowhere is this inferiority complex more evident than on the local news.

Male Local News Anchor: Good evening. I'm Dirk Hairpiece and this is Eyewitness News!

Female Local News Anchor: And I'm Buffy Sleptmywayhere. What are tonight's top stories Dirk?

Dirk: In New York City today a subway train went off the tracks and careened wildly down Wall St. before coming to rest on top of the Statue of Liberty. 147 people were killed. Let's go to field reporter Skippy Trenchcoat for a live interview. Skippy?

Skippy: I'm here in our town, about a block away from the studio in the home of Dolores Hairnet who says that her cousin's friend's brother's high school classmate once rode the very same subway train responsible for today's tragedy. Dolores, can you tell us about your experience?

Dolores: Well, Eddie, that's my cousin's friend's brother's high school classmate, said it was like a train, but it goes underground in them there tunnel things.

Skippy: Did Eddie notice anything suspicious about the train?

Dolores: He said it smelled funny. Kinda like how your garbage can smells on a hot summer day when you left meat in it and the maggots start to grow.

Skippy: Well there you have it Dirk and Buffy. The train ride stunk from the beginning. 

Dirk in studio: Thank you Skippy. Speaking of something that stinks, let's go to weather girl Sunny Implants broadcasting live from the elephant cage at the zoo.

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The Man with the Scorpion Tattoo

No, this is not a male version of the popular novel The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. This is much better than that. It's my blog where I make fun of stuff. I'm pretty sure nobody had very many laughs reading that dragon tattoo book. The Man with the Scorpion Tattoo also is not a fictional character. The Man with the Scorpion Tattoo is a guy I see at my Starbuck's almost every morning. To be fair, it's not really my Starbucks. I am neither owner nor manager, but The Man with the Scorpion Tattoo still shows up there regularly regardless of my lack of affiliation with the place. 

The Man with the Scorpion Tattoo is bald. Not old man, male pattern baldness bald, but "I shaved my head so I can look like a bad ass bald."  The Man with the Scorpion Tattoo also has a giant scorpion tattooed on his bald head. A scorpion tattoo that is much larger than any real scorpion. The tattoo stretches from the top of his head, wrapping around the back and down to the top of the neck. Each morning I wonder, what exactly is he trying to tell the world about himself? 

Evil. I think having a giant scorpion tattooed on a menacing bald head kind of screams evil. My shamrock tattoo says I'm Irish. His scorpion tattoo says evil. In fact after observing The Man with the Scorpion Tattoo daily for awhile now, I'm pretty sure he is actually Satan. Yup, the real one. Apparently, just like you and me, Satan stops for his Starbucks fix on his way to work every day. Coffee black of course. None of those frou frou girly drinks with whipped cream.  He keeps to himself and goes about his business quietly while at Starbucks, but just the same, I'm pretty sure he's Satan. He makes small talk with the baristas so as not to arouse any suspicion. He tips, but never too much or too little. He always sits alone at the table by the window. 

I suppose it's possible right? I mean, Satan has a job to do every day doesn't he? If he didn't show up for work each day encouraging evil, imagine all the police officers, military, and jail staff that would be out of work. Without evil our economy suffers. So like the rest of us, Satans day begins when his alarm goes off. Because he's evil, he hits snooze. Twice. Then I imagine Satan walking his dog clad in pajama pants and a Motley Crue reunion tour t-shirt. Obviously, he doesn't pick up the poop in a little bag because of his inherent evil nature. Unlike me,  Satan never bothers to iron his shirt for work either. Before leaving for work he grabs his bagged lunch, grumbling over the low carb kick his wife is on, and gives Mrs. Satan a little kiss and let's her know if he'll be home late because there's a need for a little extra unrest in the middle east. Then he hops in the Satan mobile (you would think a red car, but he thinks that's too flashy and goes with black. Tinted windows of course. Maybe a Mustang.) Then he stops at Starbuck's to have his coffee and go over his schedule, all the while making a mental note that when he gets some extra time he'll have to perpetrate some evil on that guy in the suit who stares at him every morning.  

Remember the 1995 Joan Osborne song, "What if God Were One of Us?"  If God could be one of us, so could Satan. And if Satan had a name, I imagine it wouldn't be any of those fancy biblical names like Beezlebub or Lucifer. Seriously, how much of a give away would that be? He'd be constantantly hounded by fans and papparazzi. No, I'm pretty sure that if Satan has a name it's something like Ed. And yes Ms. Osborne, I would call him Ed to his face. I wonder if Ed has a blog...If he does, I'm pretty sure he gets more reads than the 16 I got last week because his friends go back to their Facebook page and click on the "Share" button. C'mon people, we can't let evil win!