Mykey03’s Weblog

If you were standing on a riverbank and your dog and a complete stranger were drowning, who would you save?

In “The Family Guy”, there is some hilarious application of Freud’s theory of psychoanalysis. We are introduced to Peter who buffoons his way as the ego, the part of the self that passes final judgment. Brian the dog is the superego, who usually knows better than to follow the ego (Peter), but can’t always dictate what’s best since he’s a dog (and as Chris says, “You don’t have a soul”). And finally Stewie, the Id, indulging himself at every turn through attempted matricide, overeating, world domination or brief fantasies of out-of-the-closet homosexuality. All three characters can be viewed as one entity, just with different roles to play. More to come after I sit down and systematically go through every season (on DVD, of course) with a pen and paper and take notes to find more examples.

Baseball is the new testing ground for suspending constitutional rights. In a volatile yet mostly harmless inquisition, many professional baseball players are being treated like the inmates at Guantanamo Bay or any other secret detention facility we are supposed to ignore as good Americans. The climate has changed from a dreamy Mediterranean summer democracy to a frigid Siberian winter of fascism. Those brought before an official, either legislative or judicial, are presumed guilty until innocent. And this doesn’t seem to bug but a handful of radicals. The people who want to preserve baseball by disallowing instant replay and steroid raging demi-gods have found an ally with those who believe foreigners are not enemy combatants based on American Intelligence and little proof.
Maybe a good way to solve both of these problems would be to allow those who are held without trial or bail to enjoy one of America’s past times. Yes, there must be enough detainees to field a decent league of five or six teams. It would be a shorter season, but a great way to monitor the treatment of prisoners and hopefully curb the potential amount of steroids being injected by our American baseball players.
If America is to survive we need to adopt values we have long ignored: the transparency of trials, the joy of seeing grown men hit a ball with a piece of wood, the confidence of an umpire or judge to make the correct call based upon the evidence presented before them. And this is a call that can only be made at home plate because the game is on the line.

Do you think you could beat George W. Bush in a game of poker? Not just with luck but with the ability to read other people and lie, when necessary. Could you keep abreast of the game and weigh all the odds?

I was riding a bus that seemed fairly vacant but I didn’t turn my head too much to see who else was riding it. But then a fat guy sits next to me and I got that immediate uncomfortable feeling of having those last few precious inches of personal space invaded only to be returned whenever his stop was called. I turned my head to look out the window and pretend I had found more room. It was a quite and uneventful ride until one of the passangers began loudly harassing this fat guy next to me. This irate bus rider turned out to be Hunter S. Thompson. What he said seemed to get everyone’s attention, even though none of us could recall what was said. But how he said it was even more impressive than what he said. He comfortably sat back in his chair and still sound and infect like he was across the isle and choking this fat guy next to me. But the true show was the balance of content and delivery. No doubt it had to do with the meta-whatevers of story-telling. And now that I think about it the guy next to me might have been another author- Chuck Klosterman, a reporter for Spin and Esquire. I have no idea what Klosterman looks  like but his book (”Sex Drugs and Cocoa Puffs”)was one of the few books I did not like after finishing. To his credit, he can hold his own for 5,000 words.  Regardless, it was raining outside of the bus and people were hesitant to exit and the bus was becoming more crowded. I guess none of us wanted to get our orange shirts wet. But why did this whole bus have orange shirts on?

Would your rather live more days at your present quality of life or would you rather have fewer days with a better quality? Quality: happiness, money, friends and family, climate, health.

Just re-read “Flowers for Algernon” and was wondering if the classic could be updated for the 21st century…

Would you rather have brain surgery to become smarter or plastic surgery to become more attractive?

Is your job or career related to your field of interest or college degree?

Would you rather smell colors hear what you taste?

Would you rather be wealthy and dumb or poor and intelligent? There is no right answer to any of these questions. This new section is just something to get you to think. Enjoy