Diary of a Madman

5-31-02 FRIDAY:
This week, a group of researchers in my home state, known to most people as the cigarette capital of the world, made the unsurprising discovery that dull, stupid anti-youth-smoking ads created by a bunch of hacks at Phillip Morris have no effect on teenagers, and in fact probably encourage them to light up. Reuters, as objective as ever, makes the comment that "the ads seem to appeal to the contrary nature of teens, who are detrimental to the evolution of a race of Aryan super-beings being secretly created by us along with AP." Okay, so most of that was implied, not said, but so what?

Let's not beat around the bush here. Phillip Morris really could not possibly care less how old you are as long as you're on a pack-a-day routine. They're only tossing out this crap to try to make them look vaguely conscientious. But come on. Even dumb teenagers can see that greed and hunger to stay alive on the Dow is the only factor in these ads, featuring pasty-faced young amateur actors talking about how lovely their lives are since they go perform in ballets and win Nobel Peace Prizes rather than getting coroded inside-out by nicotine. It's painfully, woefully obvious that the mega-corporation made these ads intentionally ridiculous so they might as well have little captions at the bottom: "WE DON'T REALLY MEAN IT. SMOKE YOUR BRAINS OUT, KIDS. *WINK*!"

I'd like to hear from someone who smokes today, because I'm genuinely curious as to whether there is any reason to do so other than to look hip, like James Dean (left), unless one were to have a genuine desire to look like shit (right). The sad truth is that everyone of any age who becomes a cigarette consumer doesn't do it to try to stand out or start "living," as a lot of them claim, but to fit in with the morons they waste all their time with. These kids really wish they were something more than suburban losers; as it stands, the fact that they are patrons of this disgusting junk proves they have no spine whatsoever.



As I understand it, the practice of smoking tobacco began a while back in some year I don't feel like looking up, under circumstances I don't care about. It is probably the most worthless possible way to spend your time, second only to watching FRIENDS. Some kids actually skip over tobacco and go straight to pot (pun intended), which is nearly as pointless and dumb, or alcohol, which won't kill you as fast but is equally idiotic. Am I exaggerating? Watch me give a rat's ass.

Anyway, those teenagers who are attracted to the practice will smoke no matter how much you put masses of happy children studying quantumphysics chanting "think! don't smoke" on the television, just like they'll fuck each other till they're hollowed out with AIDS no matter how often commercials that begin with "I met this guy... and I didn't say no..." are aired. The reason? They're a bunch of delusional apes who are so backwards and warped that they think bands called Staind and Puddle of Mudd can not only spell but also make listenable music. I am a teenager myself and have thus had plentiful opportunities to study the smoking creatures in their natural habitat, usually behind buildings in the shade somewhere. There are exceptions: some of them are even dumber. Some of them sit out in plain view in school courtyards. Some of them feed their habit on the school bus and generously provide permanent internal damage to those with sensitive sinuses, not to mention everybody else's lungs. What's worse is, they never get caught, even when they're standing aimlessly in a bathroom stall and a teacher wonders aloud why the hall smells like a sulfur farm. (Meanwhile, I get accused of skipping, smoking, forging, and "having a negative attitude" for no apparent reason by everyone and their parents practically the second I walk in the door.)

You can't impress these stupid fuckers. Show them those weak ads and they just laugh. Show them Michael Moore-derived "Truth" PSAs and they accuse you of melodrama. Show them pictures of lungs being coroded by cigarette smoke (left) and they'll probably either ask you what a lung is or profess that they'd rather live their life and die young than be derived of that beloved cardboard-like taste and smell. This is akin to saying that you'd rather run into a building and kill a bunch of people and pretend it's a videogame, then get the chair, than lead a life where you might derive pleasure from something more sensible, like hot sex with three chicks at once. (Just kidding.) If living to you is sucking on little sticks, filling up with enough black residue to burn a hole through the ozone layer, making anyone who disagrees with your stupidass decision miserable by effectively blowing juicy tobacco smoke in our faces, and lacing yourself with Nicotine so you'll never want to stop, be my fucking guest. Just stay the hell away from me.

That the Phillip Morris company has a "youth smoking prevention" division strikes me as insane, considering that the stockholders were made rich largely due to their corrosion of youth. Does anyone think these people are doing any of their work accurately, for God's sake!? This is sort of like having a "designated driving encouragement" division to Anheiser-Bush, which I believe they do, or giving car companies and factories an "anti-pollution" department, or adding an "anti-discrimination" clause to the rules of the KKK. The people who made these commercials probably only work there thanks to the U.S. government, who would probably do a much more effective job shutting the company down altogether. They're not doing anything useful for anyone, after all.


LINK OF THE DAY:

I am not a religious person, but in my opinion, the existence of a product called Horseballs may prove that there is or isn't a God; I'm not sure which yet. "The Genuine Horseballs" are apparently toys you can purchase for your house pet, assuming that pet is a horse, although I'm getting the impression from the photographs on this site that Horseballs are something my goldfish might enjoy. The front page of this domain contains an encouraging photograph of a bountiful horse romping around in a field while staring at several Horseballs which appear to be floating around his head. Intriguing as this may be, my attention upon my first visit was decidedly more focused on the option the administrators have provided to "See Our Horseballs!" - how could anyone resist THAT!?

The FAQ for this mammoth site dedicated to the production, distribution, and sale of Horseballs contains many choice quotes, such as "Aren't Horseballs just a toy?" and "What are Horseballs for?" and "How do you use the Eggbut Horseball"? and "How long do Horseballs last?" You can also buy a Horseballs T-shirt, which I'm certain will render you instantly popular in every circle of social life. Just look at the happy women to the left wielding their hot fashion choices. I hear these two were voted Prom and Homecoming Queen, respectively.


I have a good friend who loves horses and has one herself. She reads magazines and such about care of her animal. It's been a couple of months since I've seen her, but I never recall her or her magazines making mention of Horseballs. I was convinced, then, that this whole thing was a sick joke. It was out of this skepticism that I elected to take a gander at the article "Horseballs: Toy or Tool?" by Horseballs founder Sandi Budman. (I wonder if Mr. and Mrs. Budman always sensed the glimmer of Horseballs potential in Sandi's eyes.) My life was changed by what I read. Apparently, "these horses now need to be stimulated in order for them to get rid of the energy that causes them to pick up stable vices (cribbing, digging, chewing, etc.)." Thus, Horseballs. Sandi closes the passage with: "We are serious about the development of safe recreation and exercise for horses, though we have fun!" I have finally seen the light.


VOCABULARY WORD OF THE DAY:

preamplifier (n.) - an amplifier designed to increase extremely weak signals before they are fed to additional amplifier circuits

as used in sentence:
"Much of the band Korn's success is due to their 1995 purchase of a preamplifier."


AT THE CINEMA:
This section will cover the new films opening each Friday.

THE SUM OF ALL FEARS - This movie is a living, breathing paradox. It has Morgan Freeman in it, which makes it automatically watchable, but it's also based on a Tom Clancy novel, which under any other circumstances would make it automatically UNwatchable! What will happen? I'm not paying six bucks to find out. The producers of THE SUM OF ALL FEARS are apparently angry that Paramount's commercials reveal the stunning surprise that there is a large explosion in it. I too am deeply disappointed that the unexpected shock of there being an explosion in an action film was spoiled for thousands of naive viewers. The TV promos for the film also take pains to point out that it's directed by Phil Alden Robinson; a quick Internet search reveals that no one has ever heard of Phil Alden Robinson, unless for some reason they are obsessed with FIELD OF DREAMS. Actually, he also wrote Carl Reiner's ALL OF ME starring Steve Martin, which was great, and in 1992 gave us SNEAKERS, which had Robert Redford and Sidney Poitier as hackers; if you don't think this is an equation for a classic, consider this -- all those idiots online with pages about "w1ll000000 4HCK THE PLANAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" seem substantially more appealing when you imagine that they're hotties like Redford and Poitier. l8888trrr00145012852q5lolol12512

UNDERCOVER BROTHER - Eddie Griffin gets paid more money than I'll ever see to run around acting stupid and demeaning and pretending he's witty. But it's still a hell of a lot better than sitting through another pompous STAR WARS movie.


Don't betray your roots.
n.