Thursday, July 16, 2015

Pondering Adultery

So here's something that hasn't changed:

The constant droning on of Christians telling my friends and I about how we're going to hell. Ironically, Christians I'm actually friends with (and yes, there are several) tend not to do this, but there are a shit ton that seem to come angrily out of the woodwork whenever I ask a question that would, by its nature, involve thinking.

For instance, "How can your god justify making adultery a sin if he is, himself, an adulterer?"

I get the whole parental "do as I say, not as I do" thing, but I think the overlord in the clouds takes it a bit far.

For one thing, the wages of sin is death, so...

If you nail another dude's 14 year old wife, both you and she are to be stoned to death by your peers just prior to being judged by the sky wizard and sent to a burning lake of fire for all eternity.

Because it's in the rules.

Except when he does it, in which case, it's divine. Then, we call it immaculate conception (because condoms and seed-wasting are also punishable by death).

Friday, July 10, 2015


It has been one year, to the day, since I made the decision to suspend this endeavor in favour of completing The Icarus Project.

It was a difficult decision to make.
It was painstaking.
It was an error.

In the past 525,600 minutes, I've had one hell of a ride. A lot of changes have occurred. Some were necessary, some were not.

Some things haven't changed at all; nor, as I've come to accept, should they...

Some things ought not to have changed.

I've come to realize that this is an integral part of who I am. Without it, a piece of me is flapping in the breeze unsecured, and it fucks me up. It cracks my focus.

So much so, that The Icarus Project remains incomplete. I'm not certain if it will ever be finished, but I can't dwell on that and rush it, or it will be an inauthentic tome of dreck.

And I can't have that.

I need to get a few things back. I need to reclaim a few pieces of myself. I need to dust off some things I'd put on a shelf, and tried to forget about.

Writing is part of who I am.
Sarcasm, misanthropy, and acerbic observations are my stock and trade.

...And I now have a surplus.

I'd like to come back, if you'll have me.

Thursday, July 10, 2014

The Final Frontier

First, the bad news (as is always the case, because the good news alleviates the pain):

The top tier domain name, "," has expired.

I know, my lovelies, I know... but fret not.

When I started this blog several years ago, I was a little pissy to say the least. When my friend decided to register the name last year for my birthday, it was a beautiful thing and I diligently updated the site with enough vitriol to make Rush Limbaugh look like the harmless old three-legged, twice-neutered pussycat he is. Some 30,000 views later, this blog has wound down. I watch less news these days. I have a fucking amazing support system. I have dreams, aspirations, and one hell of a woman on my six.

I'm pursuing a project twenty years in the making, and it requires my full attention (minus, of course, that which I give to Slightly Evolved).

So, while this has been (and will again be) a tremendous amount of fun, I must bid "" adieu. There will be the occasional rant (for that is my nature), but they will be sparse.

Hear comes the good news:

I am, as you read this with a tear in your eye, compiling these rants, and others that haven't yet been published here, and binding them into a small, rectangular object, called a "book."

This will be available very fucking soon through Amazon, and I hope the extra bells and whistles, and nostalgia you feel as you flip through the pages is enough to soothe your aching soul as you wait with bated breath for the release of The Icarus Project.

Should you be so inclined, you can donate to the publication of The Icarus Project here:

Thank you. Every last one of you. I'll see you in a bit.

Thursday, July 3, 2014

There Oughtta Be a Law: Wishy-washy

There is a scourge coursing through this country - nay, this entire planet - like no other. People abuse it every day.

People die from it.

Every. Day.

Yes, folks, I think it's time for an all-out ban. Even one death is too many, and human beings obviously can't handle it responsibly.

It's time to ban water.

While I understand your trepidation (after all, water has been around for billions of years), I think we need to finally admit the cold, hard facts here. According to the CDC, "Drowning is a leading cause of unintentional injury death worldwide, and the highest rates are among children."


Drowning is the leading cause of death among children aged one to four.

Obviously, people can't handle it.

Obviously, there ought to be a law.

Because (as I think we all know), laws fix things. They force people to reevaluate their actions. Laws are the things that turn criminals into pillars of our community.

And banning stuff is an instant fix.

Before you go shaking your head in disagreement, think about this:

Water is also used for torture.
Sure, it has its merits.

In capable, responsible hands, but who's to say who's capable and responsible? You don't even need a license to wield this seemingly innocuous death liquid!

You know why they use water to baptize people? Sure, they claim it washes your sins away, but do you have any idea what it's really doing? 

It's absorbing the sins (that's where it gets all the wet from. everyone knows sin is very, very wet).

And it's everywhere, folks.


Water is in your coffee, tea, milk, beer, juice, antifreeze, tears, and urine. It's in the ground. It's in the sky.

And it contains bacteria, amoebas, viruses, lead, benzene, fluoride, mercury, and yes, even feces.



Water destroys entire cities. Remember Atlantis? Of course not, because it was wiped out by water, and the government covered it up just so you could sleep at night...

Surrounded by it.


Wake up, people!


Before the G-Men in their fancy suits, earpieces, and Ray Bans get here to silence me, I just want to leave you with this:

What do Hitler, Stalin, Pol-pot, Mao, Ghengis Khan, Osama Bin Laden, Sadaam Hussein, Julia Child, Chuck Barris, Jesus, everyone on the set of The English Patient, and you all have in common?

That's right... you've all been exposed to water. 

The clock is ticking.

Sunday, June 1, 2014

Dog Days of Summer

If I see your dog locked in your car on a hot summer day, or any day for that matter, I will NOT break your window.

You heard me.

There's a shitload of bluster whipping around the internet about these peacocking PETA warriors threatening to break car windows if they so much as have an inkling that your dog might be inside your car while the sun is up, and it's fucking ridiculous, asinine, and stupid.


Aren't these super-douches on the side of all that is right and holy?


Not at all.

Consider this scenario:

A man goes into the SPCA and browses around looking at dogs. After a while, he cruises through the death row section, and a pitbull looks up at him as if pleading. His heart can't take it. He adopts the previously abused dog, and takes him home. He works with the dog for a year. retrains him. Housebreaks him all over again. Socializes him. The dog is happy. Playful. Protective. And thankful for this man who seems to have come from the heavens at the eleventh hour. The dog loves this man, and his family. His kids. all the people who've given him a second chance. He'll lay his life down for them.

One day, the man takes the dog in for his checkup at the vet's office. The dog jumps up into the back of the Blazer just like he does every weekend for his car rides. Ears flopping. Whole body wagging. On the way home, the man pulls into a convenience store, and runs in to grab some sandwiches for him and the dog. He knows the dog shouldn't have cheese, but he's old, and it makes him happy.

While he's in the store, someone sees the dog looking around anxiously for his human to return, and shatters the back windshield of the blazer. The dog freaks out, because he and his master are suddenly under attack. He lunges and grabs the first thing he can get a hold of to suppress the intruder. The intruder loses his hand and his pride. The dog, being a pitbull, and having a history, is seized by animal control and euthanized.

Who's the asshole?

Before you puff your chest out and go on a crusade saving all the poor wittle puppies, take a moment to think. Yes, there are people who leave their animals locked in a car with the windows all the way up for two hours in a parking lot while the temperature skyrockets and they wait in line for the new sneakers they've been foaming at the mouth to get, but these aren't the norm. These people definitely ARE assholes, and should definitely NOT be charged with the proper care of an animal.

In most cases, these dogs are in transition from point A to point B, and they're sitting patiently and happily with the windows open while their human counterpart runs into Wawa for a few minutes (for those of you not in the northeastern U.S., Wawa is the mecca of convenience stores, and if you don't have one near you, you have my condolences).

Do NOT smash these people's windows.

I know you're seething and waiting for a justifiable explanation of why not, so here:

You can (and most likely will) scare the ever loving shit out of the dog. Most domesticated canines will instinctively protect their masters and their masters' property. I.E. you will get fucking bit. You may lose a finger or two. You are also committing a crime by damaging personal property.

And not just the car window.

I hate to break it to you, but most states still recognize pets as property of their owners. This may not be the case in your hipster, progressive, vegan-friendly neck of the woods, but it is for the vast majority of the U.S. If, after breaking that window, cutting your arm, losing a couple digits to the suddenly ferocious sentry in the seat, and skinning your knee as it jumps out the window and takes off, the animal then bolts out in front of oncoming traffic and gets flattened like a penny on the train tracks, guess what?

You've just earned yourself a substantial litany of charges.

AND you're a fucking asshole dog murderer.

You've got the extra guilt of being responsible for the death of the animal you were so boldly trying to save from a five minute wait.

Yes, it's abhorrent for someone to leave their pet locked in an airtight vehicle for a substantial length of time (incidentally, this is true regardless of the outside weather conditions). It is more of an abomination for you to hoist yourself onto that high fucking horse of yours and decide to be the actual catalyst for that animal's demise.

Don't be a fucking asshole dog murderer.

Thursday, May 29, 2014

Little Boxes

I'm a dude.

I have a penis.

I have a sexual preference for persons equipped with a vagina.

Seems simple, doesn't it?

It is.

I'm seeing a lot about "cisgender" these days. It's a word I'm unfamiliar with. A word I had to Google (yes, I just verbified Google, deal with it). You know what it means? It's a fancy term for people who identify with the gender they were born as. That's it. It's extraneous, superfluous language. That's it.

Stop yelling at your screens, all you non-cisgendered, non-transititioning, intersexed, unlabelables! You don't know my plight!

To be fair, I don't intimately know yours, either, but I do know this:

It doesn't fucking matter what parts you were born with, which you'd prefer, or whether or not you swap them out for something else. It's gotten to the point now where words are being coined and invented to describe things we've already described because some sociologist feels it's necessary to be sensitive to all the people who don't identify with the circumstances ascribed to a certain sect of people. The descriptions are getting more verbose, and the categories are getting narrower.

And they're bleeding the humanity out of the language drop by drop.

I'm no longer just a dude. I'm a non-transitioning, cisgendered, privileged, white person of the masculine persuasion, and as such (according to the internet), I'm likely a misogynist, and if I claim not to be, I'm only contributing to the problem by not owning my privileged, misogynist ways. I'm being insensitive. I'm not being tolerant enough.

I'm tired of it!

I'm plenty tolerant.

I'm so tolerant that I honestly don't give a half retarded fuck what bits and pieces you have, or whether you were born with them or had them modified. it's inconsequential. it's irrelevant in the big picture. I understand that barriers need to be broken down. I understand that intolerance does exist. I understand that I don't quite, nor will I EVER truly understand what you've gone through as a (cover your ears) transexual, or a homosexual, or a black person, or a woman. I acknowledge that misogyny exists, but so does misandry. I acknowledge that homophobia exists, but so does heterophobia. I acknowledge that racism still exists, but so does racism. Do you see where I'm going yet? Or are you still too angry about the fact that I dare to seek harmony by not dwelling on our differences.

That's the key, people.

Don't give these things power by letting them consume you.

I have transgendered friends. I have gay friends. I have straight friends. Hell, I even have Christian friends. We laugh the same. We converse the same. We have a lot of things in common. That's why these people are my friends.

You know what we don't do?

We don't shove each other into little labeled boxes. We don't get together and talk about how we don't understand each others' battles. We don't shut each other out by ostracizing each other because of our differences. We don't assign labels to one and other to identify ourselves by characteristics over which we have no control.


There's a word for people like me...

That word is "Kris."

Thursday, May 22, 2014

Creationist Silliness: The Rest

Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come to end this. I originally was going to do a full twenty two part series dissecting each of these questions, but alas, my iron constitution has eroded against the waves of stupidity.

Here are the final questions packed neatly into a somewhat lengthy post riddled with links.

I'll be posting on a slightly broader range of topics after this, so stay tuned.

And if you get tired of waiting, make sure you check out Slightly Evolved.

And away we go!

"Why have we found only 1 "Lucy"' when we have found more than 1 of everything else?"

I've already covered this question here, in "Part Eleventy." If you missed it, you can go ahead and click the link; if you've already read it, I'll spare you the repetition, and just summarize that Paler Lautner and his brooding face here are wrong. It took me approximately three and a half seconds to find the actual data on Lucy, the FIRST of FUCKING MANY Australopithecus fossils found. Granted, with Lucy in particular, they only found "several hundred pieces, representing about 40 % of the skeleton."


Our next dainty-bearded contestant wants to know, "Can you believe in the Big Bang without "faith?""

Yes. Yes, you can. Do you know why? Aside from the fact that what you believe is of no consequence, which I covered in "Part Upside-down 6,.."

And "Part Cinco..."

There's another little detail.


That's right, it's been fucking proven.


There's evidence for the big bang theory smeared all over the place like soft shit of a bored 2 year old. It's all over the walls. It's in your hair. It's in your mouth. And it's going to keep popping up in the most unexpected places for the rest of your life. Get over it.


Spacey McVapid wants to know "How can you look at the world and not believe someone created/thought of it? It's Amazing!!!"

Well, despite your superfluous use of three question marks to get your point across, I look at the world and I see a shit ton of obese Americans thanking god for the food a whole fuckload of farmers grew on land that originally belonged to a now all but extinct people their ancestors violently skooched over to make room for the savages they bought from their own families to work the land and toil to get things started.

Of course, that's only here in my country.

In many others around the world, people are fucking starving.

To death.

Whose fucking brilliant divine plan was that?

P.S. I've already covered this in parts "I, Deux, and H8."


Hey... Wait a minute... This guy looks an awful lot like the first guy!

Oh, and look! Another damned repeated question complete with the requisite begging thereof:

"Relating to the big bang theory, where did the exploding star come from?"

There was no exploding star. There was a singularity (which basically is a name for a thing to which we can't quite nail an identity). That's right, cupcake... we don't know.

That's the difference between we who seek the truth, and you who think you know it already.

We can say such audacious and monumental things as "we don't yet know..."

See any of a dozen other posts of mine for an answer that you still won't find satisfactory on the big bang.

Moving on...

Oh, for fuck's sake...


I can't...

Last one, folks, and it's a doozy...

"If we came from monkeys [come on, everyone, say it with me!] then[sic] why are there still monkeys?"


You got me.

Oh, wait... no you didn't.

Yeah, it turns out, we're NOT from monkeys. We (humans) are great apes. a line descended from a common ancestor et cetera, et cetera, I know you've stopping paying attention by now, so fuck it.

Those of you who are interested in actual information regarding this subject can read it here.

Or here.

there comes a point where you simply MUST yield to scientific fact in lieu of superstition. Your god is NOT going to descend to Earth and rapture you on the basis  that you've posted more trite religious crap on Facebook than the other members of your cult... er... church. Furthermore, the Earth is FAR older than six millenia. It's been proven. People constantly remind me that "evolution is just a theory," but so are heliocentrism and gravity. Furthermore, if that's the basis of your argument, where, prithee, is your concrete, indisputable evidence to the contrary that you so vehemently present as fact? I'm all for a lively debate. I welcome intellectual discourse, but when your side begins to falter, you simply can not retreat to the bible as the apex of your argument.

This concludes this series... FINALLY!