Kitsu Katsu: The Legend of Japanese Kit Kat

If you didn't know, I'm somewhat of a candy expert (as is SWP Intergalactic Ambassador Stoned Willy). I was the first person to purchase and eat a peanut butter Twix in Connecticut (true story, if the owner of Store 24 in Storrs is to be believed). I taste tested chocolate covered pretzels in the early 90s before they were even a thing (a delicious, delicious thing). Now I am lending my talents to a new snack craze: the Japanese Kit Kat.

Kitsu katsu is a Japanese phrase that roughly translates to "good luck." Notice how it sounds like Kit Kat? Well, so did Nestle, who makes Kit Kat (Hershey has a license to sell in America...global candy politics, yall!). Kit Kats are huge in Japan, largely because of a campaign they started years ago to appeal to the youth and the Japanese habit of collecting all parts of any popular series. Pokemon's "Catch Em All" isn't just a slogan, it's a way of life for many Japanese consumers.

Fortunately for the rest of the world, this isn't some ancient society (like the 1980s) where people in one country would have to simply forgo the pleasantries of another country if they could not afford the travel expenses. No! We live in an enlightened, connected society, where the glorious chocolate snacks of any country can be enjoyed by individuals in all corners of the globe! Thank you Ebay!

And thank you Cracked.com for putting me on to this delicious phenomenon!

And since not everybody is internet savvy (although you're reading this, so, ya know...google it) I ordered a 18 flavor variety pack and tried them for your benefit and the benefit of all mankind!

Let's get it on!

Japanese Kit Kat Taste Test Take 1

Mystery White Flavor
Seemed like white chocolate. Could have been a Cookies n Creme. Either way, very tasty, and a strong start to this Kit Kat marathon.
7/10

Edamame Soybean
Surprisingly decent. Tasted a little vegetabley, but, as I soon learn, almost anything tastes good with the Kit Kat foundation. Almost.
5/10


Japanese Kit Kat Taste Test Take 2

Halloween Pumpkin
Very good. The pumpkin flavor is not overwhelming, which serves the candy well.
6/10

Shinshu Apple
If you like Snapple Apple, or other apple flavored products, you'll love this. It's definitely an overly generic apple taste, but I like that. If you want to truly enjoy candy, you have to accept and appreciate its non-natural nature.
7/10

Japanese Kit Kat Taste Test Take 3

Red Bean Sandwich

Remember when I said almost everything tastes good with the Kit Kat foundation? This is one of those "almosts". Sandwiches and candy should be kept separate. You can't just cross established lines of cuisine all willy nilly. As any rational human being would expect, this tasted very weird, and simply not good. 

I ate the whole thing.

2/10

Japanese Kit Kat Taste Test Take 4

Strawberry
Another strong fake flavor. But you can't really go wrong with strawberry.
7/10

Japanese Kit Kat Taste Test Take 5

Strawberry Cheesecake
Tastes just like it sounds. Incredible.
9/10

Japanese Kit Kat Taste Test Take 6

Citrus Golden Blend
This one was overly fruity without being too artificial (a hard feat to accomplish) and refreshing, an unexpected trait in a candy bar. Very pleasing overall.
8/10

Japanese Kit Kat Taste Test Take 7

Wine
This was amazing, like a mouthful of wine and white chocolate.
10/10

Japanese Kit Kat Taste Test Take 8

Hot Japanese Chili
Off the bat, this one isn't too bad. Its kinda weird, but nothing immediately offensive like Red Bean Sandwich, so I quickly gobbled it up. Unfortunately, the spice starts to kick in a little later and the aftertaste is awful. This is the worst so far. I'm just glad it wasn't banana, the worst of all candy flavors.
1/10

Japanese Kit Kat Taste Test Take 9


Wasabi
This was definitely odd, but not bad per se. I wouldn't go running back to it, but if i found it in my freezer at 2:30 in the morning I would eat it happily, which is what I did.
4/10

Japanese Kit Kat Taste Test Take 10

Mystery Pink Awesomeness
Not exactly sure what this was, but it was pink and it looked like it had little chunks of (fake) fruit in it. It was amazing. It was also late, and I was drunk, so this judgment could have been skewed a bit.
Drunk10/10

Japanese Kit Kat Taste Test Take 11


Mystery Green. Possibly Booger
Looked weird, almost moldy. Tasted how it looked.

Still ate the whole thing.
1/10

Japanese Kit Kat Taste Test Take 12


Hojicha Roasted Tea
I'm not a huge tea fan, and I wasn't a huge fan of this. It tasted dry, almost like hay, and it kept getting worse. Of course I finished it, but the aftertaste was one of the worst of the bunch.
2/10

Japanese Kit Kat Taste Test Take 13

Purple Sweet Potato
Very good, if you like black raspberry ice cream. Fruity and smooth.
7/10

Japanese Kit Kat Taste Test Take 14

Cinnamon cookie

Exactly what I expected from the name. Very good.

9/10

Japanese Kit Kat Taste Test Take 15/16

Mystery Black (Otona no Amasa, which translates to "Taste of Adult")
It was basically a normal Kit Kat. It looked like dark chocolate, but it didn't have the usual bitterness. It's not as sweet as the regular milk chocolate Kit kat. Not sure if it accurately captures the taste of adult, but it's good.
7/10

Matcha Green Tea
I don't know if this was a horrible attempt at Matcha Green Tea flavor or if that's what Matcha Green Tea is  supposed to taste like. To be safe, I'll never try it because this was horrible.
1/10

That's all for now! Maybe one day I'll get to Japan and go to a Kit Kat boutique and try the other hundreds of flavors. I'm gonna miss these little guys.

I Love You All...Class Dismissed.

Crossing the Divide Between US

An Interview With Myself

Do you believe in God?

No

Do you believe in evolution?

Yes

Do you believe global warming exists?

Yes

Is it caused mostly by human actions?

Yes

Should we have strict gun control?

Yes

Should Darren Wilson have been prosecuted for killing Mike Brown?

Yes

Do you believe in LGBT rights?

Yes

Do you believe in a woman's right to choose an abortion?

Yes
 
Do you belief in capital punishment?

No

 

There you have it! Everything you need in order to judge my entire being, if internet comment sections and TV pundits are to be believed. Hell, you probably don't even need all of that information because according to statistics, most of you stopped reading after my very first answer. The rest of you angrily closed the browser window after my Mike Brown response.

And I can't say I blame you because I'd probably do the exact same thing if the roles and responses were reversed. There are certain perspectives or stances on issues that make me harshly judge a person based completely off that one stance. Creationist? I know everything I ever need to know about you. Think that social security should be privatized? Clearly not someone to be taken seriously on anything. Fan of Iggy Azalea's music? I have no time or respect for you.

But these attributes or characteristics, like all of the statements I made above, don't comprehensively define us as individuals. Not even close. We all know that stereotyping is wrong, but we still make highly biased and presumptuous judgments about people based on small aspects of their character. Only real assholes judge somebody based on race, gender, or sexual orientation anymore, but we don't hesitate to label someone a Libtard or Gun-nut if they have a varying opinion on public policy. We never stop to think about how insane it is to define someone based on their viewpoint of a single topic, or even a few topics. Clearly, if they are being purposefully and personally offensive, that's a different story, but if they simply don't see something exactly the way you see it, that doesn't make them a bad person.

It doesn't make them ignorant, either. People equate "differing opinion" with "lack of intellect." Belief has nothing to do with intelligence. I don't believe in God but that doesn't make me mentally superior to those who do (contrary to what many atheists will have you believe). I'm pro choice but I don't question the intelligence of everyone who isn't. They just have a different opinion. People always assume they know more about a topic and those who disagree will change their mind if they just listened to you and watched this one video on youtube that explains it all.

You can point out facts all day but not all beliefs are based on facts alone. You can't argue facts on topics like religion or abortion because they are very personal issues. Of course, there are some issues where facts should play a big role in forming an opinion, yet even then it's no use: when people's strongest convictions are contradicted with overwhelming factual evidence, people become firmer in their beliefs. In these cases, it's hard not to question a person's intelligence and simply yell in their faces. Anti-vaccine people, for example. However, even though they have an idiotic, dangerous stance, they're position comes from a place of love for their children (usually). With a topic like that, the goal of any debate should be to inform and change the person's mind, so patience and understanding of their position is vital. You can't get angry and start yelling at them just because they are putting their children and the community and society as a whole at risk you goddamned mor--sorry. I'm fine. It's fine.

Seriously, though, this is the braintrust of the anti-vaccine movement. Not a joke.

For most topics, though, there aren't such clear cut "right" and "wrong" sides. Unfortunately, there's a whole industry trying to tell us the opposite. Television pundits literally get paid to divide us and make us think of every single issue in terms of black and white, simple right vs wrong. The truth is, life is one big gray area; right and wrong isn't always objective, and most beliefs can't be summed up in a simple "yes or "no." If you asked someone who identifies as pro-life if they think abortion should be illegal, they would say yes. But that same person might allow for exemptions in cases of rape or if the mother's health is at risk, as many pro-lifers do. Just like most pro-choice people don't advocate for an abortionplex to maximize the number of abortions. Most people aren't that extreme on any side of a given issue.

I understand the urge to be like Elaine and completely disregard anyone who doesn't agree with your stance on abortion or any other number of topics, but it's inherently ridiculous. (The great Jessica Williams just did a hilarious segment on The Daily Show about this very thing while I was writing this. Maybe we've reached a tipping point?) Even labels that are supposed to say a lot about you (Democrat, Republican, Liberal, Conservative) don't tell much about a person. Do you honestly think it's possible to equate a 55 year old man from Missouri to a 25 year old woman from New York City just because they vote for the same political party? People can't be defined so narrowly.

Think about your own friends, especially long time friends. There are most likely some things you disagree on, but you are still friends because you appreciate them as a whole person. I don't question the integrity or character of my friends when we disagree on things because I know there are more important qualities in a friend than sharing the exact same viewpoint on every issue. Yet, when someone I don't know has a differing opinion on an issue, I automatically assume the person is a mentally impaired racist who tortures puppies.

It's absurd, and I'm trying to be more understanding and patient with people who I disagree with. I think it's okay (good even) to be passionate about your beliefs and stances on issues, but passion and patience (and kindness) shouldn't be mutually exclusive. Passion shouldn't be nonexistent, either; it needs to be balanced with logic and reason. I've seen debates where a person calls someone out for being too emotional, claiming passion was making them blind to reason. Again, that may be true in some cases, but it doesn't negate the benefits and importance of passion. Maybe this person studied the topic for years and has a personal connection to the topic; there are many good reasons to be passionate about issues. When a person claims that someone else is being "too emotional," it reminds me of the treatment of "female hysteria" in the 19th century. Women would show a little independence or creative thought or god forbid, emotion, and they'd get tagged as hysterical and locked up in the loony bin. Nowadays, people show a little passion about police brutality or rape culture and they get called "too emotional" and discredited as illogical.

It's just another way to shut someone up and keep yourself from hearing any opinions that challenge your own. We don't want to learn something new or question our own beliefs, we want to be right. It's why we all read news stories and articles that confirm our already held beliefs. It's why, during election season, I've heard people say they have to "unfriend" someone on social media because of their political views. This is our exact problem. We blast partisanship in our government, but we do the same thing in our personal lives. We actively ignore people we disagree with. The thing is, they aren't just going away, and the issues you disagree on aren't going away either, so we have to engage with each other. Or, ya know, just scroll past their political post.

Here's where I drop the Gandhi quote: "Honest disagreement is often a good sign of progress."

Honest disagreement.

We can, and should, openly express our disagreements, that's how we progress as a society and individuals, but we should work on doing it a little more respectfully. Again, I'm working on this, too. I've always tried to see all sides of a given situation, but there are certain issues I avoid discussing because I know I will end up thinking less of someone who disagrees with me. Becoming a teacher has helped because my goal is to foster productive debate and conversation about sometimes controversial topics, and initiating the conversation requires me to see both sides of arguments that I normally might not. If I'm going to encourage respectful, honest discussion among my students, than I should be able to do it myself and teaching has helped me do that.

Besides, if I'm truly passionate about something, the goal should be to help others see it my way. The current thinking seems to be that the person who yells the loudest and longest wins the argument, but that doesn't encourage anyone to learn something or change their mind. It feels good in the heat of the moment (so so good!) but afterwards there's no satisfaction on either side. Nothing is learned. No progress is made.

So what's the point? We're all just yelling into the abyss. Judging each other every chance we get, over opinions even, our flimsy ass opinions. People change their minds all the time. Maybe they are presented with information they didn't previously have or their life experiences alter their views, or maybe they just grow older and think differently. That's a good thing; people should adjust their views according to experiences and information. My 34 year old self would argue all day with my 24 year old self. I'd probably just slap the shit out of my 14 year old self, but that's beside the point.

The point is, opinions and beliefs are not the best measure of a person's character, and we could all stand to be a little less judgmental. The hypocrisy of our judgments are on display every day. The smoker judging the obese man. Out of shape fans sitting on their couches judging the skills of professional athletes. I see adults blasting the youth all the time about how much they are on the internet. Where do I see these complaints? On the internet.

I certainly appreciate the irony, but it's not really doing anybody any good. Judging others is part of human nature and even a little necessary at times (murder, rape, personal hygiene, etc.) but we should just ask ourselves what we're basing our judgments on. Is it their stance on welfare and drug legalization, or how they treat their friends and family? Is it their opinions or their actions? Because what they do and how they act tells you a lot more about a person than who they vote for or their feelings on the latest crop of presidential hopefuls or what type of music they like.

But I'll still hate you for liking Iggy Azalea.

I Love You All...Class Dismissed.

Stoned Willy Guides You Thru Ernest Goes to Camp

Ayyyyyyye yoooooo! Tha east coast is basically shut down after #blizzard2015 #bullshit so its tha perfect time fer yer main dawg Stoned Willy ta guide ya thru a few classic movies ya can watch in yer snow mansion.

Today's flick is part of a 9 film series that brought in over $100 million. Holy shitdick!

Tha star a this series turned inta a cultural fuckin icon. Yall know this sack a brainfarts as Ernest P. Worrell.

Yeah, I missed tha Ernest wave (bein an intergalactic immortal ambassador a peace means missin out on a few pop culture thangs here n there) n I wanted ta know how tha fuck this dipshit raked in $100 fuckin mil.

This fuckin dipshit. $100 fuckin mil. Fuck.

I'ma need a lotta mental lubricashun ta get thru this one. Couple shots a homemade Moonshyne n a few caps a tha Silly Psy Bin Laden n my level a tolerance fer this clusterfuck shoud rise wit tha action in tha second act, whaddup intro ta film.

Mmm mmmmm mmmm mmm mmmmm thas delish!

It opens up "Many lifetimes ago..." wit a buncha Native Americans chantin n one dude tied up ta a X shaped cross. Is this tha right fucking movie? Them shroomerz hit already?

Sum other dude, probly tha Chief, throws a knife at tha guy, then a axe, then a arrow, missin everythin. They scream at each other fer a lil bit, then tha homeys start chantin again. Shit's wild.

Tha camera zooms in n we see a X cross tattoo on tha guy's chest. Then we see tha same shape in tha wood above his head. A lil camera dissolve n tha shape is now part of a sign fer a modern day summer camp, Kamp Kikakee.

Aight, I ain't mad at shoutin out native peoples n shit. Plus I'm a sucker fer that "ripples in time" type shit, ya know?

Speakin a ripples in time,  I did a lil research fer this shit (do yall e'en understand tha sacrifices I make fer yall?!) n tha year this came out, 1987, was shortened by a second ta match tha Gregorian calendar. N people look at me crazy wen i say shit like time is jus a societal construct.

Anyways, its present day 1987 n we finally see tha man hisself. He's on a ladder fixing tha sign. He calls himself camp counselor, except hes really camp handyman. As he's talkin bout safety, tha ladder falls backward n he falls ta tha ground. So this tha type a shit Im in for huh?

He hits tha ground, boom, cue fuckin incredible 80's Casio keyboard riffs...maybe I judged this flick too soon?

A hot Native American-ish woman who I'm guessin questiond her life's decisions n quit actin ferever after this came out tells Ernest he needs his shots, like a stray fuckin dog. He gets tha shots while spoutin off non sense non sequiturs n somethin bout tha Lindbergh baby, provin jus how relevant this series was even in 87.

Wheres tha moonshyyne?

Grrrrrrrrraaaaaahhhhhhhyyyyeeeeaaaaah!

Tha camp counselors ask Ernest ta pick up these so called delinquents ("2nd Chance kids") from a institushun. When he gets there he's met by a buncha kids wit sunglasses, tha first sign a tru delinquency.

That tie aint foolin nobody kid!

One kid who aint wearin sunglasses spits out a pun n then puts on a pair real smooth like, beatin CSI Miami ta tha gimmick by a solid decade.

A lady from tha institushun tells Ernest she dont e'en believe in second chances. He tells her, "My motto is, I never met a bad kid."

Hol'up. Thas like, MY fuckin motto. Thas pure Weedle right ther. Tha fuck is up wit Ernest? Shows love ta tha kids, got sum weird connection ta Natives. I'ma have ta pop sum more caps n ponder this shit a lil deeper than I thought.

Tha last lil 2nd Chance kid comes out ta meet em, carryin evry one else's bags. He's a lil black kid named Mustafa, n tha lady calls him tha runt a tha group. Lemme repeat that: tha one black kid is named Mustafa, called tha runt, n made to carry all tha bags. Goddamn tha 80s were fucked up. Glad I spent most of it in tha Andromeda galaxy.

Later on all tha kids are at tha lake. Mustafa is tha only one who cant swim ARE YA FUCKIN KIDDIN ME 1980s?! Tha counselor tosses him in tha water but Ernest saves him.

I need sum dam Moonshyne. Finish this bag a boomerz too.

Gggggggyyyyaaaaaahh thas good!

At tha camp cafeteria, all tha kids are starin at tha 2nd Chance kids. A fight breaks out n Ernest breaks it up by lettin both sides kick his ass n smash a fryin pan on his face.

Huh. Savin kids. Turnin tha other cheek. Blue collar worker, kinda like a carpenter, ain't afraid ta dream big...

Oh shit. Ernest is Jesus!

Shots fer Jesus P. Worrell!

Chhh-cchhhh-cchhhh-yaaa! Jeezus thas goood!

Tha counselors hate tha 2nd Chance kids n make Ernest a counselor jus so he can deal wit em. He's fuckin thhhrrrrilled bout it n brings tha kids inta tha woods. He tells em how important nature is n says: "Stay together, be remindful a tha weather. For heavens sake, Dont pick it or it will never heal." This dude is speakin in parables n shit!

Bein typical kids, they make fun a him, sayin he looks like a walkin army surplus store. Then one of em says, "More like salvation army." Salvation Army.

Another one says, "What is this, wild kingdom?" Kingdom.

Ernest fuckin Christ. No wonder most a his movies were "Ernest Saves..." sumthin er other (n his most successful film was Ernest Saves Christmas). Nobody noticed this shit before? Yall really thought he was jus sum bumblin idiot?

I see why tho. Ta distract us, tha movie cuts right back ta sum slapstick. Our man Jesus finds a buncha badgers n starts makin stupid faces at em til they attack his stupid face. Tha kids say, "Time to practice first aid." See that shit? He acts a fool, but theres always sumthin deeper goin on. Ernest don't give ya life lessons in sum borin lecture, he finds creative ways ta get important shit across ta his disciples.

An ole Native American dude is meetin wit people tryin ta buy his land, includin tha camp. Turns out tha land was a ancient ceremonial grounds n hes tha last a their tribe. Tha Native dude wants tha camp ta stay open cuz he thinks a tha campers as young braves who keep tha tradition a his ancestors alive.

So this aint bout tha campers fightin each other. Theyre fightin tha corporashun. Im startin ta see why this shit was so popular wen it was. Tha 80s was tha greedy "me" decade n people were startin ta get sick of it. Tha stock market crashed. Reaganism was at full force, stompin on tha poor n middle class. A course people r gonna cheer fer a workin class dude n sum poor kids goin gainst a greedy corporashun.

N all that dum shit Ernest does? Physical comedy bridges cultural gaps, feel me? Ernest knows this n uses it ta bring people together. It's beautiful.

Ernest is tryin ta win over tha campers, but Mustafa is tha only one stickin by him n stickin up fer him. Oh shit, Mustafa is St Peter! He was even baptised at tha lake! Yooo!

Moooooonshhhhhyyyyyyyyne shhhhooooooootttttsss!

Later, our lord Ernest is talkin witta turtle (all God's creatures n shit nahmean?) bout how hes upset he cant make a conneckshun wit tha kids but he aint givin up. Then tha kids show up n sing So Happy Together. Funny how shit jus seems ta work out fer Ernest, ya know?

Ha. I jus caught sumthin. Tha Turtles sang So Happy Together.

Shoooottttts! Uuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhuuuuuu! Yeaaa!

Woo. Herewego.

Theres a quick scene witta empty cart drivin by. Its a runnin (ha!) joke but its really another symbol. Divine intervention. Thas God drivin that cart, savin an empty seat fer Jesus. Ya know Ernest is gonna b usin that cart somehow someway ta save erbody at tha end. C'mon son!

Now Ernest is helpin tha kids witta group project n Mustafa asks if they can they stay there forever. Ernest says yea, if it was up to him.

I'm a be honest. I need a minute ta get it tagether. Too much realness rite now.

Plus I gotta piss.

Aite lets do this!

Tha ole Native is speakin at a campfire. Hes explainin tha old ways ta tha boys. When a young brave was ready ta become a warrior, they'd place him on tha X cross n throw all that shit at him. If he had faith n was pure n brave n shit, tha Big Guy in tha Sky woud look out fer him n hed be a warrior. He didnt really get inta what happens if they didnt hav faith.

Later tha dude from tha minin company, that dick, comes ta offer more money for tha land. Tells tha ole dude its his patriotic duty to sign contract. Patriotic duty ta make money? Thas like Reaganism in a fuckin nutshell. Tha minin dude pulls sum tricky shit n tha camp gotta close.

Tha kids r heartbroken but they tell Ernest they dont wanna go back ta tha institute, they wanna fight off tha miners, tagether.

Then, yall, then...it starts. Tha quick drum roll inta tha synths. I can't explain tha senssashun that ripples up my spine. Tha voice comes down...is it an angel? A velvet throated saint returnin ta earth ta bring peace n happiness thru overwhelmin beauty?

Close. It's Gary Chapman.

Bravehearts! 
Fighting for the rights of all the dreamers
Bravehearts!
You and me we are the true believers 

Tha electric keytar's warm embrace engulfs my body like a Member's Only jacket as I watch a montage a tha boys buildin weapons ta defeat tha evil corporashun. Tha overwhelming 80s vibe a this scene is so powerful it literally turns inta a physical being n steps outta tha screen. A corporeal representashun of a abstract concept moves towards me. I can't make out its face, but its hair is crimped n its wearin fingerless gloves so I know its tha 80s.

It looks me straight in tha eyes, then speaks.

"Come with me," it says in a smoky, sultry voice.

"Are u tha physical representation a tha 80s?" I ask, knowin full well its tha physical representshun a tha 80s.

"Yesss." It let tha ssss hang out there for a while. Is tha physical representation a tha 80s tryin ta bang?

It grabs me by my arm n pulls me toward it. I think it is tryin ta bang! As Gary Chapman belts out "Me and youuuuu!" tha 80s puts its mouth over mine n inhales.

A kaleidoscope a colors passes my eyes, then darkness. Now light up ahead. Its a screen. Im in...a theater? Ernest is up on screen. Im in tha 80s! Oh shit, Im in tha 80s. Like, it sucked me right in. Dont wanna think about how its gonna lemme out...

So Im in tha back of a packed theater in 1987, lookin on as Ernest tells Hot Doctor: "They aint gonna get this camp."

Tha theater bursts inta a deafenin applause. They fuckin love this dude! Someone next ta me is cheerin at tha top a their- oh thas me.

Ernest n tha kids attack tha construckshun trucks wit burnin arrows, food, n anythin else they can shoot at em. They use a catapult ta shoot a explodin toilet at em n a soft voice from a distant time n place calls out that a explodin toilet would be tha perfect metaphor fer this entire movie franchise, but its drowned out by tha cheers a th crowd.

The people in tha crowd need this. I can feel tha energy. They are desperate fer a release n lookin fer a savior. Tha Middle East was gettin crazy as fuck, tha Iran-Contra affair was poppin off n Oliver North was showin his lyin ass face on tv evry day, AIDS n crack was ravagin inner cities, n global violence was at an all time high. Plus, Dirty Dancing was fuckin evvvrywhere. Shit sucked back then n evrbody jus wanted a escape. Ernest n his stupid faces def gave that. Its no serprise his movies started ta fall off in 1994  cuz violence peaked in 93. People felt like they aint need him anymore. Dam shame. Cuz he was more than jus a stupid face. He was a tru man a tha people n a threat ta tha powers that be, like a certain king a tha jews.

Jesus. Im sayin Ernest is Jesus if ya aint catch that yet.

Despite Ernie n his disciples efforts, a bulldozer destroys tha Native dude's house. Shit.

But here comes tha golf cart! It stops right next ta tha kids. They fill it with flammable liquids n guess who jumps on that bitch ta drive it towards tha bulldozer? Ernest muthafuckas! Called that shit! He aims it at tha bulldozer n jumps off before it crashes n explodes.

Its not over tho. Tha main dude comes at Ernest wit a shotgun. We hear a voiceover from tha Native dude:

"If he got faith, tha knife wont cut him." Dude shoots at Ernest n misses. He walks closer.

"If he got fuckin courage n shit, tha rock wont break him." Shoots n misses. Walks closer.

"If hes pure a heart, arrow wont catch him." Shoots n misses.

Dude gets even closer. Ernest puts his finger in tha barrel n says, "Looks like this ones outta yer hands." Cuz its in God's hands!

Tha dude drops tha gun n runs off. Tha theater is goin bonkers up in here! Muthafuckin 80s mutherfuckas love Ernest!

Praise tha Ern!

Hot Doctor comes thru with a notice sayin they can keep the land. Everybody breaks out inta So Happy Together, even tha fuckin audience! Popcorn n soda n acid wash jeans r flyin all over tha place! Tha 80s is crazy!

Tha room starts spinnin n my head starts poundin n tha kaleidoscope a colors returns. Im spinnin faster n faster. Then finally...blackness.

Theres a vibration against my face. Its my phone. Im home. Face down on tha floor fer sum reason.

Tha movie is still playin.

Ernest is back on tha ladder fixin tha sign. Tha ladder falls n he pulls tha whole sign down on hisself n makes a stupid face.

Uhhhh. This fuckin guy.

Then tha drums hit, followed by tha synths.

Bravehearts! 
You and me we are the true believers!

Gahhh this song is fuckin terrible. Tru believers? Get tha fuck outta here.

How'd I think this shit was good? Tha fuck is wrong wit me?

Oh yea. Moonshyne. Ugghhh.

But what tha fuck was wrong wit people in tha 80s?

Oh yea. They were probly all in a Prozac daze. See also: crack.

Yea. Forget everythin I said. Ernest is jus a fuckin dum ass n his movies r terrible.

I need a nap.

Shoulda Watched Predator 2...Spread World Peace.

Glass Half Full to the Brim

The Golden Age Fallacy has always been popular with unhappy people, but the romanticization of the past has intensified recently because of the overall level of comfort we have reached as a species. I won't minimize the severe poverty in certain parts of the world, because it exists and it is horrible, but for the vast majority of us, especially in America, everything is easily available. That's not a bad thing (netflix and air conditioning are awesome!) but we find new things to complain about that look absolutely petty when compared to many of the complaints of the past, or when compared to people with real problems in the present day. All of this is so common and pervasive in our society we even came up with a trendy hashtag term for it: #firstworldproblems. The phrase was intended to spotlight how petty these complaints are, but, it has evolved into just another opportunity for privileged people to still complain about petty bullshit, showing the power the privileged have to ruin everything.

There's something about the human brain that makes us focus on the negative. Or maybe it's just a natural reaction to the overall shittiness of the human condition. Despite our relative comfort, life is hard. Death is inevitable. We complain that the glass is half full, when in reality it's never full. Nothing is exactly how we want it. There is no utopia, and a half full glass is more than enough to quench your thirst. Drink it. It will quiet your complaints for a while.

Plus, there are beautiful things happening all around us, all the time. Even some privileged people use their powers for good.

Appreciate one moment, any moment, as much as Wes Bentley enjoyed that bag.

I always loved the idea of karma, and the idea still means a lot to me personally, but I've come to the sad realization that there is no karma in this lifetime. It's certainly not immediate anyway. The fact is, the only reason to treat people well and to be good is, well, to be good. There's no real reward; being a good person is its own reward. Bad people get away with shit all the time. Their actions hardly ever "catch up" with them. It's a great notion to think that people will pay for their actions, it's why the idea of heaven and hell is so popular, but in reality, "bad" and "good" are not objectively quantifiable. You can get arrested for doing certain things on one side of an invisible line that won't get you arrested on the other side, just like doing something in one time period would make you evil in another. Getting into heaven would largely depend on when you died and who was manning the gates.

Motivation to be a good person shouldn't come from a desire to stave off hellfire or as a way to gain positive karma points. Once they become habit, the benefits of positive thinking and living are obvious. It's not the magic that pseudo-psychologist self help gurus make it out to be, but it does make for a more satisfying existence. There are moments of relapse into negative thinking, and it takes effort to maintain consistency, but it is possible to keep the scales tipped in favor of positivity. The hardest part about treating people well and not responding to negative behavior with more negative behavior is the lack of immediate satisfaction, but even that is something that gets easier over time. 

In an era that emphasizes instant gratification and encourages the voicing of meaningless grievances, it's important to see the long term benefits of positive thinking and acting, and the importance of shutting the fuck up every now and then.

I Love You All...Class Dismissed.

The Michael Jordan of Creating Lesson Plans

It is 2015. I will be 35 this year. I will no longer be in the coveted 18-34 year old white male demographic. I will also probably never be in the NBA. I have come to terms with that. Mostly.

I've learned long ago (like all adults should) that the fantasy dream jobs of my youth will never happen. I won't play a sport professionally. I won't be an exotic animal veterinarian. And like a healthy adult should be, I'm okay with that. There's much more to life than fame and riches. You are more than what you do for a living.

You are not your job.

It is important to enjoy what you do, and I do, but even more so, it's important to do your job well, and every now and then, I do that, too. And it feels good.

We are all told at a young age to take pride in our work and that we will feel good about ourselves when we work hard, but most of us write that off as a statement parents and teachers use to get us to finish our homework or complete our chores. We know we will feel a sense of achievement if we work hard, but we focus on all the work to be done rather than the feeling we will get from doing it. Exercise is the clearest example. Obviously it's good for us and we'll feel good afterwards, but damn it's hard to get off that couch and stop watching Michael Keaton movies.

Working hard and doing a task or a job well feels good no matter what the job is. Whether it's glamorous, like Sexy Pretend Chief of Surgery, or literally shitty, like Ordinary Real Life Hospital Custodian mopping up influenza vomit and fever diarrhea, successful completion of a task rewards the human brain the same way. The unfortunate reality is that many people don't allow themselves to feel that pleasure, in particular when the job isn't glamorous. It's not expected for a lowly cafeteria line cook to feel good about himself after cooking the best grilled cheese on the entire campus at UConn, but I did, because a job well done is a job well done, and a perfect grilled cheese is the finest delicacy known to the modern world. Ask 2004 NCAA Tournament Most Outstanding Player Emeka Okafor, he knew the deal.

I'm fortunate enough to have two jobs I really like, and lately I've felt like I (and my coworkers) have been killin it. It's important to recognize when you do a good job and appreciate yourself for doing it; again, no matter what the job. There's nothing wrong with pounding your own chest after finishing your TPS reports like Russell Westbrook after finishing a good dunk.

And those TPS report have to be done by someone. Not everyone has what it takes to be a pro athlete or veterinarian. Too many adults keep dreaming about their fantasy job; that would be fine in and of itself, the problem is they forget to enjoy and master whatever they are currently doing. The job itself may not be enjoyable, but you can enjoy doing it well.

You can and should actively look for a job you love, but you should aim to be the Michael Jordan of gas station attendants or custodians or office clerks until you have the opportunity to become a Hall of Famer at the job you want. As I know all too well, you have to start out killing cockroaches and stocking shelves at a local market before you can design your own lesson plans for your college students, so you might as well kill the most cockroaches possible. That's good advice in general, actually, cockroaches suck.

The point is, if you have a shitty job, you're going to be miserable while you're doing it regardless, so do it well and you'll at least feel good about yourself afterwards. Even if you never get that dream job, you can (and should) still be happy as the Reigning Champion of Exterminators or Whatever, and that's not a bad title at all.

I Love You All...Class Dismissed.

A Troubling New Perspective on Die Hard

Yippee ki yay motherfuckers, it's an obligatory Christmas movie post! Might as well talk about the greatest Christmas movie of all time: Die Hard!

I love this movie. You love this movie. We all love it so much we labeled it a Christmas movie just so we could watch it every year. Killing Germans who unexpectedly come into our building just really puts us in the holiday spirit! Careful Mr. Claus!

After sitting through mandatory viewings of all the lesser Christmas movies out there (read: all of them except Christmas Vacation which is in its own separate league) I finally got around to watching Die Hard the other day, and something was a little...off. In light of certain recent current events, the movie took on a whole new tone. In fact, halfway through I started to think that it was just a police propaganda film. When it was over, I was certain of it.

Now, there's a fair share of things we partake in as a society that can be considered police propaganda when analyzed deeply (and cynically) enough. The childhood game Cops and Robbers is nothing more than early training for future criminals and enforcers of the law. Officer Friendly used to be a staple in elementary schools across the nation, forcing the image of the friendly neighborhood police officer down our young throats. The "super cop" has been a movie trope for as long as there have been movie tropes. COPS was one of the most popular tv shows ever created, and it's still running, with a whole cadre of spinoffs in which the audience views all events from the perspective of the law, thereby empathizing more directly with cops than ever before.

And then came John McClane, the everyday cop who rises to the occasion amid unbelievable danger.

John McClane, the cop who will always fight for the little guy. The ballsy cop who bucks authority and may even break the law himself sometimes, but always for the greater good.

More than simply empathizing with the cop, we are meant to personally relate to his blue-collar attitude and everyday nature. But that's not enough to make it propaganda. Successful propaganda can't be so direct, so there's many subtle attempts to convince the viewer of the infallibility of the police.

At one point, Holly's idiotic coworker Harry Ellis attempts to mediate between evil leader Hans and McClane for the return of the terrorists' detonators. McClane refuses to return them, causing Gruber to execute Ellis on the spot. The message here? Don't try to handle these situations on your own. Let the cops handle it.

Ordinary citizens aren't the only ones that should stay out of the way. The media needs to stay out of police affairs, too. The media is the go to excuse when people with authority are caught up in scandals. There are legitimate concerns about something a police officer or department has done? Blame the media for sensationalizing the story. Represented by the most punchably-faced man in cinematic history, the media in Die Hard is consistently shown as untrustworthy and we are meant to despise everything about it. Holly eventually punches the reporter in the face for revealing McCane's identity and we cheer, all because he had the nerve to do his job and report on the biggest story of the year.

Then there's the commentary about the ineptitude of federal government agencies. There is a long running trope of local cops distrusting federal agents and disliking when the federal government impedes on their jurisdiction, something we have seen play out in real life lately as well.  The FBI agents (Johnson & Johnson) are arrogant and fatally incompetent. They take over the operation and are immediately blown up in their own helicopter, all because they didn't listen to McClane and his new partner, local cop Al Powell. Again, the message is to stay out of the way and let the local cops do whatever they have to do.

Of course, a more sinister message lies underneath it all: the cops will let people die for their own benefit.

McClane's questionable tactics aren't the biggest issue in this movie, though. No, that would be our buddy, the twinkie loving beat cop, former neighbor to Urkel, and only guy on McClane's side through the whole ordeal: Al, the magical black friend. Turns out, Al is on desk duty because of a little accident on the job. That accident? I'll let him tell it:

John McClane: Hey pal, you got flat feet?

Sergeant Al Powell: What the hell you talking about, man.

John McClane: Something had to get you off the street.

Sergeant Al Powell: What's the matter? You don't think jockeying papers around a desk is a noble effort for a cop?

John McClane: No...

Sergeant Al Powell: I had an accident.

John McClane: The way you drive, I can see why. What'd you do? Run over your captains foot with the car?

Sergeant Al Powell: I shot a kid. He was 13 years old. Oh, it was dark, I couldn't see him, he had a ray gun, looked real enough. You know when you're a rookie they can teach you everything about being a cop, except how to live with a mistake. Anyway, I just couldn't bring myself to draw my gun on anyone again.

John McClane: ...Sorry man.

Son of a bitch.

How could you Mr. Winslow?

I never noticed how truly strange this scene was until now. It is meant to solidify the bond between the two cops and build sympathy for Al, but now it feels disturbingly prescient. Somber music plays while they talk, helping the audience truly feel the pain in Al's heart. He's torn up about the incident, and now he's stuck doing desk duty, too traumatized to use his gun.

A child is dead, the killer faced no charges, and we are forced to empathize with the killer. Maybe the department had to pay out a settlement to the family, but who knows? That's not important, what's important is that a good cop is stuck behind a desk unable to shoot anybody else. Forget about the dead kid, feel sorry for the poor cop.

Meanwhile, that cop is free to work and love his wife and eat his armful of fucking Twinkies.

After Hans falls to his death and McClane saves the hostages, he finally meets his new pal Killer Al in person. As they crush on each other, the giant, invincible blonde terrorist Karl busts out of the building, ready to kill everybody. Luckily, our buddy Al heroically pulls his gun and shoots him dead. He can kill again! He is a hero, and our knowledge of his tragic history turns a typical action sequence into an intensely emotional experience for the audience.

Growing up, movies like this inspire us to blindly root for cops, thinking they can do no wrong. Cops who "write their own rules" and go "above and beyond" like John McClane or Mike Lowrey are even better. Their actions may be technically illegal, but they get the job done. The ends justify the means because police always have the best interests of the community in mind. Unfortunately, the reality is that although police are important to society and are largely under-appreciated for the jobs most of them do, there is a pattern of abuse that needs to be addressed.

In the end, I'm just glad nobody shot Argyle when he busted through the gates in the limo.

It's a good thing he had a friend to vouch for him.

I Love You All (Even John McClane, Still)...Class Dismissed.

Stoned Willy Tears Down False Idols: Cosby Edition

Yoooo yoooo yooooooo! Tha fuck is goin on in this country? Holy shit. I go to Zanzibar wit sum fly honeys fer a month poppin bottles n shroomin on tha warm sand a tha Indian Ocean n I come bak to cops gettin away wit murder? Dam. Well Ima save that conversation fer another day n take action n go ta NYC n march wit tha people on tha right side a history, but I need ta get sum otha shit off my chest first.

Yea u already know i like ta drop hot turds a knowledge on errbody's head like a philosopher pigeon from on high, n i like to shake up people's worldview a lil bit like a Weltanschauung Snowglobe  nahmean, but when i get ta do both AND shit on a widely respected celebrity who had tha whole world fooled inta believin he was tha beacon a goddam morality for 40 years, talkin down to black youth n holdin himself up as tha perfect role model, when in reality he's complete sewage water, well that jus makes my fuckin day. At this point, shittin on this particular piece a filth is almost like beatin a dead horse, or bangin a drugged-up, sleepin woman, so in that sense its only right I keep shittin on him.

Yea, turns out tha bearer of bad sweaters, tha puddin pop prince, tha voice of a Junkyard generation, Bill Motherfuckin Cosby, is a serial fuckin rapist.

I know how hard this is ta accept for sum muthafuckas out there. I get it. We all loved ole Bill. Back in tha day, he was tha father we all wish we had. All he brought inta our lives was laughter n joy, n wutever tha fuck Leonard Pt 6 was. We all got our own Cosby zippity boppp zoop zoppp impression down. Trust, I get all that. But all that matters now is:

Fuck Bill Cosby.

It sucks ta say. He helped shape my entire outlook on life man! I gave jazz music a chance cuz a him! I cut holes in my winter hats n wore em over my eyes cuz a him!

Still do, if we're keepin it 100.

Well all that shit is null n void. Yer boy Bill is a piece a shit. It hurts, but not as much as gettin raped. It aint about our feelins dickheads, its about makin it right for his victims.

His many, many victims. There's 20 names on that fuckin list, n thats jus who came forward so far!

Fuck Bill Cosby. N strait up, fuck us for lettin it happen. Yea, WE let it happen. Cuz we don't wanna let go a our childhoods, or our childhood heroes. We been puttin actors n artists on a pedestal forfuckinever, unaffected by tha laws reserved fer us common folk. Celebrity culture perpetuates this shit. N rape culture perpetuates this shit. Fuck man, we laughed when he did an entire bit about druggin girls n sexin em up back in tha day.

Ha! Druggin women n bangin em is jus good clean family fun!

That was a different time tho right? We aint know any better all tha way back then...in 1979. Shit.

Then in 1993, when Autumn Jackson claimed she was his illegitimate kid, we aint believe it cuz she was blackmailin him n clearly a lil crazy. Naw, he wouldnt do that, even tho he admitted havin an affair wit Autumn's mom. Still...he's America's Dad! He made a lil mistake, but he was Cliff Huxtable! He wrote tha damn book "Fatherhood." Shit!

2006 musta been a different time too, cuz wen Andrea Constand accused him a sexual assault, n 13 others were set ta testify against him for tha same thing, we forgot all about it wen they settled outta court. No trial, no testimony, no disgrace for ole Bill, n we can all watch The Cosby Show reruns wit a clear conscience.

We let that go cuz it was Bill n we loved him n couldnt get over his image of America's Dad, but we really let it go cuz they settled outta court. When that shit happens, 9 times outta 10 people jump on tha "she did it for money" train faster than Wesley n Woody n J-Lo. Shit, I hope she got a ton a his fuckin money, n Im glad she aint hav ta expose her life in a trial. Thas what stops most rape victims from comin forward. They gotta reveal their entire fuckin existence, relive tha fuckin tragedy, n then deal wit most people not believin em n even blamin em. Thats rape culture. How fucked is that? Fuck is wrong wit yall?

Well now it is a different time. A time of social media. A time of a lil bit more (a tiny bit, like, fuckin infinitesimal) understandin a sexual assault n its victims. N this shit aint goin away Billbo Baggin Sleepin Women. Yer upcomin NBC show? Cancelled. Yer comedy special on Netflix? Cancelled. Reruns of The Cosby Show on TV Land? Pulled. Your position at Temple University? Gone. That perfect Dad image ya delicately crafted fer 40 years? Ruined.

Fer better or worse, memes make people aware a issues in a way that news articles jus can't touch. 

Damn I love social media.

Dahh well! Should we feel sorry for him? Should we feel sorry for ourselves now that we can't enjoy a part a our childhood like we used ta? Answer ta both: fuck no. Fuck him n fuck you. Tha only people that deserve sympathy are tha victims.

But thats tha effect a rape culture. It makes us start ta believe shit like tha real victims aren't tha ones who were raped, tha real victims are tha guy accused a rape. We find reasons fer it happenin. She shouldnta been with him at night dressed like that. She shouldnta been drinkin. N it goes beyond jus rape. Its like every violent crime now. Blame tha unarmed guy fer gettin killed. He committed a crime 5 years ago. He had marijuana in his system. It's evrybody's fault but tha guy who pulled tha trigga.

It's crazy tha lengths people go ta blame victims, rape victims especially. Always talkin bout what she shoulda done ta avoid it. Why should she have ta adjust her entire life accordin ta tha oppression she faces? Dont question tha fucked up behavior a men or why society accepts it, question her fer not bein able ta avoid it? Seriously, fuck is wrong wit yall?

It's time ta accept tha realities a tha rape culture we hav allowed ta grow n flourish, n it's time ta accept that a lotta our idols ain't who we think they are, or who we want them ta be. A lotta  us learned that wit Joe Paterno, but we also saw some muthafuckas refuse ta learn that lesson n what they are willin ta do ta avoid reality...

Fuck Joe Paterno. Fuck Bill Cosby. Fuck rapists n rape apologists n Men's Rights fuckin Asstivists. N fuck these assholes who think their fame, money, or power or all three will protect them forever from any consequences.

Maybe yer askin how im so certain ole Bill is a piece a shit. I could just say I can do minimal fuckin research n fuckin read n anyone who can do those two things should be able to make up their fuckin minds at this point, but I see where yer comin from. Its America, innocent until proven guilty n all that. N thats a great theory, we jus never follow it. I get tha appeal tho. Justice is blind and treats errbody equal n nobody should make up their mind until tha court does n then tha decision has to be accepted as truth. Nice n simple right? Well, besides tha fact that jurors are fuckin ignorant about tha law, n money buys a better chance at justice, n mistakes happen all tha time, n tha court system is hilariously (maybe not so hilarious tho?) broken in general, rape accusations are a bitch ta prove in court. So, many times, victims settle outta court ta avoid tha intrusion inta their personal lives, like Constand in 2006.

In her case, since they settled outta court, tha 13 other accusers aint have ta testify. Many a those same women are comin forward, along wit many others, after my man Hannibal Buress blew Ole Bill's spot up in a stand-up act in Philly. These women got no hope a gettin money from him or even a conviction. They literally get nuthin outta this except peace a mind...n horrible fuckin people accusin them a lyin n deservin wutever they got n sayin they r just doin it fer money. Then ya got assholes always askin why they waited so long ta come forward. Well, besides tha reasons i already listed (like tha fact that nobody wants ta admit publicly they were violated n then hav ta deal wit all tha doubt n accusations a lyin) THEY FUCKIN DID COME FORWARD BEFORE. N NOBODY WANTED TA HEAR THAT SHIT! So, question fuckin society, question our fuckin selves, before question them.

Oh, n now there is another lawsuit by a whole different person. This one could be tha one that takes Billbo down too, cuz tha woman was a minor when it happened, n statute of limitations don't apply. I hope she gets ALL yer money Bill, ya sick fuck.

I've heard people defendin him like they know him, when all we know is his act. His act was great (well, The Cosby Show n Fat Albert n Ghost Dad were great). That shit don't mean HE is great. Big fuckin difference. People got a hard time separatin tha artist from tha art. He plays a funny, friendly family man, so he gotta be one in real life! What kinda logic is that? Christian Bale played a fucked up crazy psycho in American Psycho, but that dont mean he's crazy in real life.

Ok, bad example, but ya get wut Im sayin.

N Cosby did sum great things in life, fo sho. Still dont make this shit any better. Wen u rape or kill, all tha good shit u did gets tossed out tha window immedjutly. Hitler loved dogs (who dont, right? RIGHT?) but that dont pardon tha shit he did ta my Hebrew brothas n sistas nahmsayin?

Anyways, here's a few reboots tha Cosby team is workin on ta revive his career. I personally cant wait ta see all this shit!


The Cosby Show Me Where He Touched You

I Spy (A Rapist)

Gross Dad

Rapetown Saturday Night

Leonard Part 7: You Know You Want It

The Cosby Mysteries Continued

Fat Albert and The Gang Rape

Picture Pages and Pages of Rape Accusations


Ok, now it feels like an excuse ta write as many rape jokes as possible rather than jus shittin directly on Cosby, so let me finish by sayin this:

Fuck Bill Cosby.


Spread World Peace...Stop Willfully Protecting abusers.