Archive for June, 2009

Michael Jackson died.

I know plenty of people will miss him as an entertainer. Frankly I never was a fan of the guy. I like some of the songs, but I never understood the frenzy surrounding the guy as a singer and dancer. He was cool, but not that cool, and I didn’t know many people that bought his albums.

Even so, I find that I am going to miss Michael Jackson and that I have been robbed of years of entertainment from him due to his untimely death.

See, I was a fan of the freak show that was Michael Jackson.

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A major player in the news business has just won a lawsuit with the defense that there is no law against journalists lying or distorting the truth, nor is it a crime to coerce a journalist to do those things.  And yet they are still in the news business. After not only admitting that they have been lying on air, but having publicly defended it as their right.

David Icke exists, and that people pay to listen to him speak.  Even though he has publicly stated that lizard people are secretly controlling the earth.  Hah.  We all know that’s just what the Giant Space Ants want him to think.

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First Ed McMahon.

Then Farrah Fawcett.

Then Michael Jackson.

Then Billy Mays.

Then the power supply on my computer.

Clearly there is some sort of conspiracy going on here.

I have currently locked myself in the bathroom with my laptop, and the Emergency Tinfoil.   I’m not coming out until I crack the code and I’m sure that it’s safe.  Or until my wife starts yelling at me.  Whichever comes first.

Hello again, potential meat shields, and welcome back to Voodoo Farming: A Not-Quite In-Depth Look At Zombies In Popular Culture. I’m your host Ihmhi. (That’s pronounced Jimmy without the the J!)

Imagine, if you will, that you are quite possibly in one of the worst zombie combat situations imaginable: alone, and in a labyrinthine complex with nary a weapon at hand. You have to scrounge and scrape to get your ass to safety, and then some asshole in a suit puts you in cryo-stasis or some shit for like twenty years.

But that’s not you, that’s some other guy in a game released like two years later. Instead, you’re one of the poor bastards sent in to not only kill the zombies and assorted otherworldly invaders, but also to kill the survivors. (Man, I hope they have a staff psychiatrist!)

Now’s as good a time as any to visit your shrink, lie down on his couch, and tell him about the time you were the Opposing Force.

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To say that I have a talent for languages would be like saying that the Hindenburg was fireproof.

Yes this get’s to Pop Rocks and Coke. It just takes a little bit, please bear with me.

Being raised Jewish, I attended Hebrew School from Kindergarten to the Seventh grade. That whole time I was given classes in how to speak Hebrew. I managed to get to the point where I could memorize the sounds enough to get through my Bar-Mitzvah. In Middle School, and again in High School I attended French language classes. I managed to learn to conjugate verbs, but that was about it. When I briefly attended college before joining the military, I took French classes. I managed to pass the first level, but couldn’t advance any farther than that, despite multiple attempts.

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It’s that time again. Gorge yourself on this video bounty.
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Around the time we were fighting in Vietnam, the Army decided that officers and senior NCOs needed to spend time in staff jobs to get a better understanding of the system works, and to help them become more professional. Whether you believe it or not, that’s the official word. In short, to get promoted, you have to get your ticket punched.

One problem was in the lack of training of staff officers, etc. Anyone can type up a report and fill out the paperwork for training schedules, ordering toilet paper and such, but no one was getting trained on how to move the flags on the maps and how to order subordinate units around. Thus the “Warfighter” training was born, just in time for Desert Storm.

Because it is training for office workers, it was named Warfighter. That’s a little bit of an army oxymoron, like the overused “Army Intelligence,” or the ever popular “Meal Ready to Eat.” Call it what is not and maybe, just maybe the troops will believe it.

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