I Can See Clearly Now - Johnny Nash

I have come to a small revelation. And yet one so large that I couldn't possibly find a picture to summarize what I'm thinking. With a bit of help from Terry Pratchett - arguably one of the most insightful authors writing today - I have determined how and why fantastic girls always end up with jerks.

You know how you see a girl who's your standard fantasy shopping list of adjectives? Smart, funny, gorgeous, polite, classy, romantic and so forth? And then - when you meet her boyfriend, he turns out to be some knuckle-dragging half-ape, content to roll with the fact that he's dating one of the most well-rounded girls on the planet and take it for granted. And you sit there and wonder how and why. And why and how. But mostly - why? And how?

The standard answer is that some girls just like that. They - apparently - enjoy dating a jerk. This makes no sense to me. No one likes hanging out with people who make them feel like slime. Even people who are okay with being in a subservient role often only do so to reap praise from the person above them, whom they respect or look up to.

Ergo, there must be another reason. 'Nice guys' - or the type of guy that these fantastic girls arguably should be dating - tend to be just a little bit less forward, a little bit less cocksure, a little bit less 'male'. This means that they tend to assume such girls are 'too good' for them, or out of their league, or whatever else you want. Thus... they befriend said girls, perhaps, but never approach them romantically.

This girl - who is, by all rights, fantastic therefore is never shown romantic interest, because she's too intimidating. Since these girls also have some modesty, they never assume its because they're too 'perfect' - but instead assume there is some kind of flaw that they just can't see. Therefore, they lose a bit of self-confidence and are much more likely to try dating the first guy who actually asks them out - the cocksure, 'male' jerk. And since the wundergirl feels she has flaws, the jerk is able to exploit them to maintain the relationship.

Now... to see if this has any veracity or not.

Don't Know Much About History - Sam Cooke

And the contestants on what is my new favourite game show, "You Bet Your Ass" don't know much about ANYTHING. Geography, politics - even bloody sit-coms. The reason I like it the same reason that first year students like George W. Bush - he makes you feel smart. And not even just Leah Grimmer smart... we're talking Bob Rae meets Susan Franceschet smart.

To explain... these examples all came from one show, and since I was watching the show, not taking notes on it, they're pretty close, if not word perfect.

Category: Famous Short People
Question: What 5 foot 2 leader of North Korea compensates with nuclear weapons?
Answer Given: Confused silence... umm.... *buzzer*
Real Answer: Kim Jong-Il. If you'd read a newspaper once in the last 3 years, ever seen Team America or even listened to Dubya speak for more than 6 seconds, you'd know this. Pity.

Category: Sex and the City
Question: What hairy singer made an 'ironic' guests appearence as someone's girlfriend?
Answer Given: Samantha!
Real Answer: I have never seen Sex in the City. I have better things to do with my time, like power flossing or weaving with belly-button lint - and yet the use of "IRONIC" was a pretty big effin' tip-off. Alanis Morisette is a singer, who sang 'Ironic'. Samantha is... what? A character from the show. Yes! She's OBVIOUSLY a singer. Who made a guest appearence!

Category: (A Band I Don't Recall)
Question: From what rainy country of bad teeth does this band hail?
Answer Given: Europe.
Real Answer: Hang on. Let's look at the answer given one more time. The country... of Europe. That snapping noise you just heard? My cranial cortex finally hitting the breaking point. England? Great Britain? Hell... even Mozambique would be a better answer since at least its an actual country.

Category: I can't remember.
Question: Japanese scientists made this manimal by mixing human DNA with that of what non-chocolate hopping mammal?
Answer: Frog?
Real Answer: A) The question isn't entirely accurate. This I know. My problem was that a guy responded by saying 'Frog' to a question clearly searching for a fucking mammal. I would have accepted kangaroo, spider monkey or even dog before I accepted frog.

It is of utmost credit to the host - Stewart Francis - that he hasn't reached across and placed a dinner fork 3/8ths of an inch inside one of the 'competitor's' eyeball, since every time they speak, I swear the IQ of whoever designed the show drops a point.

You Got to Me - Neil Diamond

Please note that my watch says it's about 1am. This is from a completely different day, but it sure works for this story. Now on with the broadcast...

Last intramural Frisbee game of the year. As a whole, our team didn’t do quite so hot. I burned the guy covering me for two majors – so I was pretty pleased, but overall… the score wasn’t just that fantastic. 13-7 or something like that. Whatever.

After the game, we decide to take an hour and celebrate our relatively successful season and many good times. So Carrie, D-Wayne, Donald, Curtis, Kat, Glen, Eva, Graham and myself head down to Paddy’s for a pint or two. A few Craven’s, a few stories, a discussion of the fact that you can actually play the game indoors and that we’re going to form a team…

I stand up and the world rotates by about 17 degrees to the left. I, having not eaten all day and being a reasonably cheap drunk at the best of times, have gone and accidentally tipsy-fied myself.

Normally, not a huge problem. I’ll go home, happily fall asleep by 9:30 and be ready to carry on the next day. However – I have another 2000 words to write on my paper for Grieve. It’s due in about 48 hours. I have just turned down a 24 hour extension from Grieve, a decision I’m now regretting.

Thus – I have to take two hours to try to plow through enough water and ketchup potato chips to sober me up enough to be able to make semi-intelligent and intelligible prose. A cold shower serves effectively in giving me a headache, but not in doing anything to shake me up and out.

I think right about then was when I sent out the email to Dr. Grieve stating that 3000 words was too few for me. I then went back to writing, apparently now clear-headed and happy, and managed to shoot my way up to almost 70% of the paper being written. Pretty good, with about 2 days left to write the thing in.

In bed by, oh, 2:00 or so.

This morning I wake up and check my e-mail. Dr. Grieve has responded. He graciously offered me another extension – this time one of a bonus 1000 words. I accepted. Seriously… I am in need of mental help.

Back to writing things that get graded…

The Snakes Crawl at Night - Charlie Pride

I seem to have a thing for snakes... I don't know why. I just like 'em. In any case... this particular article caught me eye, primarily because it was about snakes. The long and short of it was that an 8-foot python was found in the middle of a street in Scarborough, Ontario. Scarborough is noted for its lack of jungle, and in fact, total lack of anything green aside from the occasional spot of fungal growth on the underside of a cardboard Pepsi cup.

Quite frankly, I can't imagine the surprise of an individual arriving at their regular intersection on their way home and being greeted by a yawning and dozy pile of reptilian menace lifted straight from Jumangi.

My favourite part - and here I'm quoting the article - was that...

"The officers tested the snake’s temperament by prodding it with their batons..."

This is how a newspaper writer attempts to report "The officers then decided to poke at it with sticks." The snake, apparently, was relatively amicable to this and didn't attack viciously. Which, really, is a real pity - if only because I would have loved to see the euphamisms used then.

"The snake then tested the officer's epidermous for reisistance to puncture, by prodding it sharply with its lower fangs. Sadly, the external soft-shell of the human was vulnerable."

All These Things That I've Done - The Killers

Until September of 2005, I was probably the most moral person I knew. I then spiralled downwards into what I would arrogantly call "the average morality", where people just kind of let themselves do what feels right at the time, and not worry about longer term consequences.

Ironically, I would argue that almost every bad decision I made in my 3rd academic year was the result of the influence of one person. While I was the one who made the poor decisions, and thus and ultimately to blame for it, it was only because of the fact that I am completely incapable of even making a single rational decision when this other person is involved. They are untrustworthy, more than a little selfish, more emotinally screwed up than even me and to top it all off, someone who is able to draw me into leading a completley unhealthy lifestyle.

Ironically, despite my very strong feelings towards this person, almost no one even knows their name. My jeesh, really, and that's about it.

And yet I can't help myself. Every time I hear from the person, I'm thrilled that they're back in my life - only to know that they'll soon push off, like a boat shoved through the choppy waters back into the centre of the lake. And I do things that you couldn't force me to do at gunpoint simply because I feel it may let me stay close to this person again. I should dislike me when I'm around them, and yet the feelings are so strong that I consciously recognize that I don't care.

This person has been the emotional paramount and detriment of my life, responsible for the highest highs and the lowest lows. And with the highs and lows of my life - that's quite a statement.

Crazy Hobbes has just danced back in. Cue the record, and spin that plate.

Always Coca-Cola - TV Jingle

Here is why I think that marketing gurus of the world are failing. The push to create new opportunities to ensnare potential customers has had the corporations overlook what worked for them in the first place.

I draw your example to two seperate things.

First, the catchy jingle. I was told by a friend the other day that the era of the jingle is over. This confuses me to no end. Sure, a catchy and clever commercial may be become the latest viral video, but no one will walk around humming the hilarious catch-phrase - or in this case, kick to the bear's crotch.
For purposes of contrast, I point out the theme song for Coca-Cola from the early 1990s - "Always Coca-Cola". It's more than a decade since I first heard that, and I heard it as an 11 year old. That song has been responsible for my purchase of Toronto Blue Jays highlight videos (since a modified version is contained there-on) and a number of variations on the Coke theme song sitting on my compy. In fact, I could go for a delicious 'real thing' right now, couldn't you?

Other good exmaples include Home Hardware ("Home of the Handyman"), Tim Horton's ("Always got time for Tim Horton's") and so forth. Instead, now, I get nothing worthy of download and repeat.

Second part.

Why the hell do retailers feel it necessary to drive us to their useless websites in order to win a free 500mL bottle of pop?! Seriously!! What happened to the "look under the cap" days?! Now, instead of simply getting another Coke, and continuing to fuel my hummingbird-like addiction to sugary beverage, there are so many steps - collection of points, giving of a valid email, splitting of soul into 3 equal parts via Horcrux - that I simply can't be bothered.

As a child I used to buy the chips that had the little plastic-wrapped game card in it because there was a one in 13 billion chance I'd get another bag for FREE, but I'd get to unwrap a plastic advertisement in anticipation of the possibility!! Let's face it... kids are about as smart as a tea-kettle. Now? They have to be over 13, get their parents permission, and be subsequently bombarded with "Coke-Mail"- which, frankly, sounds to me like a custom order for some quality Nicaraguan.

So... if there's anyone out there working for Coke: a) bring back the jingle and b) send me little plastic ads that may contain 'free' product within. Please?

Feel it Turn - Great Big Sea

From grade, oh, 11 or so through to pretty well October of 3rd year university, I was on a well-appreciated and recognized good luck streak. Then I had a pretty normal up and down 3rd year and summer. Then, it took a sudden turn down in October. Don't know why. Just did. Things kept piling up and it looked worse and worse. Nothing catastrophic - except for, oh, the concussion and potentially fractured neck (xrays ultimately came back negative though). The rest was just small stuff... a little bit of romantic chaos, a dash of inability to attend Atlantics, a spoonful of having screwed up my law school application and a smidgen of my sister having emergency appendix removal surgery.

The usuals. It all came to a head on Thursday evening, when I snapped and threw my backpack across a classroom, narrowly missing one of the debate novices (and a kid I TA for) by about, oh, four and a half inches.

Apparently, that was what God was waiting for.

Since then, I've managed to organize a last-minute road-trip to Cape Breton with some of my favourite debaters for a tournament with the rest of my faves. It starts with the Buick Allure - nicest car EVER - and carried on. Kipper, Karl, Colin and Chris then rocked the rest of the trip. Colin and I won Top Team, beating two quality teams in the semis and finals. Karl got Top Novice. We spent $40 on a concrete statue of the Virgin Mary... which later disitegrated, before Karl won back what was left. I even continued in my romantic chaos, but at least my view got some focus.

Then - to wrap it all up with the biggest red ribbon ever - 163 on my LSAT. That's the 89% percentile. That's my ticket to law school.