Here’s Where The Atom Smashers Come In

“How To Kill The Planet” was the subject of a show on National Geographic the other night. Subjects included in the show ranged from Black Holes to Anti-Matter to self-replicating robots. If, like me, you’re somewhat fascinated with the somewhat newfound science of the apocalypse and what might actually kill the human race off, you’d find the show incredibly interesting. But part of me just kept thinking, “I don’t know if this show is such a good idea. What if a Taliban is watching?”

But I quickly reached past any threats of terrorism and finally began to understand the concept of anti-matter. Here’s the brass tacked version: Shoot a gun at a paper target. The energy created by the gunshot creates a hole in the target. That hole is essentially anti-matter. Of course, creating a batch of anti-matter big enough to destroy the Earth is pretty hard to do, since volatile anti-matter in large batches needs to be kept away from matter, oxygen and magnetic fields. Not the 69 Love Songs guy, real magnetic fields.

I had to change the channel halfway through the show though, realizing the Earth Day was just a few days ago and that a show on killing the planet wasn’t very Earth friendly. But lo and behold, more “That’s the money you could’ve been saving with Geico” commercials appeared. At least Geico is giving the caveman trio a much-needed rest.

I take that back. I’m a big fan of the Caveman campaign, and here’s why: The cavemen contained in Geico commercials, if you take a pretty good look at them, are fairly close to Homo Neanderthalensis. Neanderthals for short. Neanderthals were a subspecies of humans that are now extinct. They lived in Western Europe, constructed complicated tools, conducted complicated funerals and possessed rotund bodies with prognathic jaws and enlarged brow ridges. Some scientists believe that Neanderthals were actually killed off by modern humans, but nobody really knows for sure. There’s a chance they also bred with modern humans and were absorbed into the population, but again, we don’t know for sure. This is about Geico though, not physical anthropology. So here goes. I use Geico insurance because, by them using cavemen in their commercials, I can unsafely assume that they, as an insurance company, are not creationists. In giving money to Geico, I’m supporting Charles Darwin, The Origin of the Species and an anti-religious agenda. Plus, I’m saving money. At least that’s what the new commercials allege. But it’s really about keeping any religious ideals separate from my car insurance. That, and their Web site payment plan is way convenient.

From here, I suppose I would have to break into the “Acts of God” clause that is included in most insurance contracts, but why ruin a good, ignorant thing? And while on the subject, do you think any stalwart creationists took the opposite route and went with Allstate instead of Geico because they don’t believe in cavemen? And taking that one step further. Since George W. Bush always unsafely assumed that the Taliban lived in caves, were the Taliban ever offended by those Geico commercials?

I just don’t know. I do like Neanderthals though.

Bathroom Smurfs

Yes, it’s been a while. I know. To be honest, I’ve got no excuse nor a need for one. Lately I’ve just been feeling that so much of our lives is spent on the Internet that writing anymore online about one’s wants, needs or fascination with Star Wars seems a little redundant at this point. It is for this reason that I’ve decided to create a printed newsletter. To hand out, in person, to real people that might want to be left alone.

Wait, no. Actually, I don’t want to waste paper either. That seems redundant at this point too. Besides, I walk straight past the people on the streets handing out flyers and leaflets, not even acknowledging their existence. Sometimes, I almost feel bad that I treat those people as non-existent. But then I think, “Man, it would be awesome to get paid to be treated as something that doesn’t exist.” That’s basically like getting paid to be a Smurf, only you hand out printed matter for Subway sandwiches, cheap massage deals and faster Internet. On a related note, did you know that the creators of The Smurfs made 420 episodes of The Smurfs? Then they realized the marijuana associated implication of making 420 episodes, so they made one more. It’s true, look it up.

All this talk about The Smurfs is leading somewhere, don’t worry. We have a bathroom in our house. Each week, the bathroom is cleaned, and each week, the bathroom becomes covered in a layer of unexplainable blue dust that inevitably gets wiped away, then re-accumulates. Each week, when I’m wiping up the blue dust, I start wondering how the dust got to be blue in the first place. After all, dust is a mixture of human skin cells, plant pollen, animal/human hair and whatever other assorted minutia happens to microscopically float around in our apartment. Automatically, I start to wonder if the former tenants were Smurfs, the kind that hand out flyers in Manhattan. But I know that’s just to entertain myself while I’m doing something as droll as cleaning a bathroom. One time, I imagined that a member of The Blue Man Group used to live here, but I think they permanently live in Las Vegas, and besides, I would hope those guys have enough money to buy, not rent. So that thought was deemed unrealistic right away. Then I Wikipedia’d “Dust” one day and realized that the blue dust probably comes from some dried up old blue bath mats that the former tenants never cleaned. I won’t lie though, I like the idea of a smurf living here before us a lot better than dirty students with blue bath mats. It just makes the environment seem a lot happier.

And that brings me to another sub-sub-section. Emotional imprints. You know how when you take over an apartment that was dirty from the last tenant? Well, what if they were clean, but emotionally devoid of any substance? Just the pit of evil, subsisting as ruthless humans in the space that you now occupy. Let’s say Bernie Madoff was still well off, only he lived in a two-bedroom apartment with modest accommodations in Jersey City while ripping off innocent people for millions of dollars, just to throw the money trail off. Let’s pretend he was still the lying, greedy leech that he still is, only a few short years ago, he called your roof “Home.” Do you think the apartment in question holds onto those emotions in the same way that it might hold onto a former tenant’s mildew and roaches? I hate to be the ass that gets all mystical and says “Hell yeah it does,” but I am. And that’s why I fool myself into believing that Smurfs lived here before us.

Okay, I don’t really, I just get bored when I’m cleaning up inexplicable dust. But I do believe in living ghosts. And that’s why I’m gonna start taking those flyers from the people in the street.