Malach is from Generation X.
I can recall things like no internet, nor cell phones, no PC's is every home, no Cable Television, Rotary Phones, the Cold War, The USSR, etc. The first time I was required to write a paper on a PC was my second year of college (1992), before that I used a typewriter. I remember my parents first cell phone, it consisted of a huge ass phone, with an attached battery briefcase. I remember when MTV only played videos and the NBA Dream Team always won the gold.
Perhaps I am just at that "When I was your age stage". But I have a real problem with generation Y, or as I call them the "internet generation", and I only figured out today what my problem with them is.
Malach runs a men's softball team, and on this team there is a group of us who are my age (35ish), and then there is another group that is 18-25. We are all friends, or friendly enough with each other, and mostly get along. Malach basically manages the team, does all the administrative work, and handles the team money. He is actually the one teams founder. Every year, we have a pre-season meeting, to go over administrative stuff, new rules, new teams, collect team dues, and brainstorm about the team and team issues. So, Malach gave the team 3 weeks notice to show up to this usually hour long meeting. Some people informed me they would not be there, fine.
Now today was the day of the meeting, and the wife informs me in the morning that all of the younger portion of the team was not going to the meeting. They did not call or e-mail me. So basically the 6 members of the team around my age showed up, and the rest of the team, again who had 3 weeks notice, did not, only telling my wife, and not me, the night before. Now granted, this is not life or death, or work, but still . . .
I look across at those that are 25 and younger and this is what I see. People who don't care about responsibility, and if the situation interferes with "playtime" they aren't interested. At my full time job, hardly anyone working there under the age of 27. Those under that age who have been hired have all been terminated because of the exact above issue. They don't care, they don't take responsibility, and do stuff like the above. They don't know the proper protocol for interacting with real people ... they are so used to the internet, e-mail, text and instant messaging. They are so used to socializing over technology, they don't know the rules of real socialization. And it is not just locally, I see it everyday from a very young MySpace generation.
And it is not just softball and work. Look at sexual relationships, men and women have this "hooking up" attitude about sex. One night stands among those under the age of 25 are very common, and girls are as bad as the guys. It is really sad. I see it to, the partying, the stuff I did in college, my just out of college friends party like they are still in college. Think nothing of drinking most nights of the week, and think nothing of drunk driving.
I don't know, maybe I am just pissed cause I feel that people older that 18 should have more responsibility for themselves. It is all instant gratification with little care for other people. I see it in this generation, i see it my younger clients. Maybe I am just getting old.
I am Malach and back in my day . . .
The problem with Generation Y.
Ahh, someone who thinks like Malach
I am Malach, more of an angry comic book nerd
Hump Day Jokes ...with Little Johnny!!!
Nursery school teacher says to her class, "Who can use the word 'Definitely' in a sentence?"
~*~*~*~*~*~
Little Johnny returns from school and tells his father he got an "F" in Arithmetic today.
~*~*~*~*~*~
A teacher asks her class, "If there are 5 birds sitting on a fence and you shoot one of them, how many will be left?" She calls on little Johnny.
I Fell Down
I fell down. No seriously. I was walking along and I FELL DOWN. At first I was a bit embarassed, but the people who saw me fall were very nice and helped me up. I sure am glad that they didn't laugh. I didn't fall to be funny. I slipped and fell. They were all very supportive and asked if I was okay. What wonderful people! Yes.
Yes indeed. I was okay! The people were quite relieved. Can you imagine total strangers driven into a tizzy over a little slip by a man they didn't even know? How fascinating. How utterly humane of them! I never did anything for them before and I hardly had the chance to thank them for their concern afterward. Once they knew I was okay, they went about their business as if nothing had happened. Bless them! It was all just a part of everyday life. Sure, they worried a bit, but upon seeing I was fine, they let me be, knowing that when one falls it can be a bit embarassing and the people around should act with concern but also tact.
What spectacular people, these witnesses to my fall! I sure hope that if I fall again the people around me are as capable, caring and sensitive as the ones I met when I fell today!
Now, don't get me wrong. I won't be falling all over the place just to meet people or to test the mettle of slack jawed bystanders, but if I SHOULD fall, I'm merely stating that I would prefer people around me to act in the exact fashion that these pleasant folk did.
Actually, I'm glad I fell. Had I not, I never would have known what sort of people I want around in a fall and I certainly wouldn't have met these wonderful people that set the standard for behaviour when one falls in your proximity.
I can only hope that the future holds more pleasant surprises for me.
Thank you.
A new Wiki experiment
Not sure is this one will last.
JesusMan! at the Conservapedia
I am Malach and I don't know when to quit.
Hump Day Jokes
~*~*~*~*~*~
The Englishman, the French guy and the American are exploring Africa, when they're attacked by cannibals. The cannibal chief says, 'Well, we're gonna eat your flesh and use your skin for canoes. Tough luck, eh? But you can choose the way you're gonna die.
~*~*~*~*~*~
A blonde goes to the Western Union office and says, "I just have to get an urgent message to my mother in Europe." The clerk says it will be $100, and she replies "But I don't have that much money, and I must get a message to her, it's urgent! I'll do anything to get a message to her."
Performance Enhancing Drugs
Sports has HGH, Art has LSD.
May of you know, that more and more illegal pharmacies are being busted, and names appearing on lists of steroid, HGH, and performing enhancing drug customers. Most recently one was busted that featured some big time Pro Wrestlers, as well as Baseball and Football players. Major League Baseball(MLB) is reeling right now from the allegations, and within the next 5 years, we will all probably find out that 80 - 90% of MLB player were on the stuff in the 1990's and early 2000's. MLB has also created a fall guy in Barry Bonds to take the focus off the game as a whole.
As for the National FootBall League, there have been a number of players suspended for this since 2000, the most famous being Shawn Merriman, All Pro Linebacker for the San Diego Chargers. In 2004, the Super Bowl losing Carolina Panthers had some like 32 members of their team arrested for performance enhancing drugs, including their PUNTER. What does that say? If the punter is doing it, you can't tell me the 275 linebacker who runs a 4.4 in the 40 isn't?
Someone made this recent point. Shawn Merriman weighs 272 as a linebacker, almost same weight as one of the greatest left tackles of all time Anthony Munoz. In addition, he runs a 4.61, 40 yard dash. Jerry Rice, the greatest wide reciever of all time ran a 4.60. It is possible for someone to be as big as one of the greatest offensive lineman of all time to be as fast as the greatest wide reciever of all time with out some type of enhancement? In addition, he still lead the NFL in sacks with 17, with a 4 game suspension.
While I don't mean to pick on Merriman, he was caught so he makes the easy target (plus he is an asshat). I could give you all sorts of other stats of people in the league I am sure that are similar. As fans should we care? What difference does it make if your sports stars are all junkies, bulked up on steroid, hepped up in Anphetamines? I mean after all it is entertainment, and these people are paid ungodly amounts of money to be in their best physical shape to entertain us . . . modern gladiators.
Look at it this way. Do the Beatles become the greatest band ever if not for that meeting with Bob Dylan in 1964 and he got them high on weed. LSD soon followed along with harder drugs. So do albums like HELP!; Rubber Soul, Revolver, Sgt. Pepper, The White Album; some of the greatest music of all time: develop without Pot, Cocaine, Heroin, and LSD? You have to assume they don't. Compare a pre-drug song like Can't Buy Me Love or I Want to Hold Your Hand to something like Revolution 9 or Tommorrow Never Knows off those later albums and tell me their drug experiences did not influence their music some way. Voila, performance enhacing drugs. And how does a band go from a song like I Saw Her Standing There to Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds in 4 years time? What did the New Kids on the Block do in four years? That is like the New Kids in 1988 morphing into Nirvana in 1992.
After al what is sport but entertainment, and do you really care Stallone is taking HGH to remain buff at 60? But you do care Bonds is going to break Aaron's record? And are we hypocrits? How many of us need to drink coffee or smoke cigarettes to get through our day? How many of us drink and smoke pot to relax? How many of us take stimulants to stay awake?
I am Malach and why don't we do it in the road.
Our next Google Bomb
Since we did so well with the world's most dangerous bug . .
I've got a new one. This blog gets hit fairly often for the phrase something to throw away. So, again buckos and WoWees it is time to leave this everywhere: forums, myspace, websites, blogs, comments, and other place.
something to throw away
A Happy Potato Day.
This goes out to all the Potato Picking, Whiskey swilling, soccer hooligan micks out there! The songs for you too.
I am Malach and I am not Irish
The 30 Minute Murk-out
I had just returned from a filling breakfast at the diner down the street, when I was startled to discover that the door to my apartment was splintered and hung precariously from one hinge. I hesitated a moment, trying to determine what awaited me inside, but I could hear nothing but the refrain of “Splish, Splash I was Takin’ a Bath” blaring from within.
I was incensed. True, I do not live in the best part of town, but the thought that someone would break into my home and casually loot my apartment while listening to Bobby Darin was too much to bear. Who would dare invade my domain, heedless of the consequences? My rage boiled over, so intent was I upon entering my abode and beating the intruding miscreant to death.
And then, suddenly, I knew who it had to be.
Murk.
I could picture him splashing playfully in my bathtub, chest-deep in steamy water with soap bubbles clinging to the brim of his derby hat and the tips of his moustache. He would doubtless be playing with Randall, my rubber ducky, while Mrs. Dr. Murk scrubbed his back with a coarse sea-sponge. How I longed to burst in and knock the blaring radio into the tub with him, to avenge the intrusion and put an end to the ceaseless mind-games my infernal therapist subjected me to. But I would never get past his very capable and deadly Asian wife. Seething, I pushed open my door.
Dr. Murk was not in the bathtub. Instead, he was in my living room, dressed in a sweat-soaked tank top and extremely short shorts. In addition to his ever-present derby hat, he wore yellow terrycloth wristbands and ankle-weights strapped to red-striped athletic socks pulled up to his knees. He was marching in place, doing step aerobics upon a stack of papers I recognized as the manuscript for my novel,. The music came from my television, where an excited Richard Simmons faced a group of overweight women, performing the same exercises Murk was doing. “Ah, Piper,” said Dr. Murk as he heedlessly tread upon years of work. “Home at last, eh? It seems you caught me and the missus in the midst of our daily workout. Care to join us?”
I looked around but didn’t see Murk’s Asian wife anywhere. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment, Murk?!” I demanded, enraged.
“I told you, you thick-headed imbecile, the wife and I are ‘Sweatin’ to the Oldies’.”
“In my apartment?” I asked.
Murk stopped aerobicizing and made a point to look around as if noticing this for the first time. “Seems so,” he said.
“You broke my door, you inconsiderate bastard!”
“Hmm…yes. It was locked, you see.”
“I know!” I screamed. “I’m the one who locked it!”
“No doubt because you didn’t want anyone discovering these, eh?” Murk produced several magazines from behind his back.
“My secret porn stash!” I cried.
“Secret no longer, I’m afraid. It was child’s play to find your freezer safe, buried under dozens of frozen burritos. Then I stumbled on the key to it, hidden quite obviously between the covers of Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice that I discovered under your bed, contained within pockets of a pair of Z. Cavaricci pants I found in the box labeled ‘Chess King.” And what a find it turned out to be. Big Butt magazine—such rarified and impeccable taste you possess, Piper.” With a flourish, Murk opened one of the issues he held and eyed it with detached interest. “Well, there’s certainly no false advertising here.”
“Give those back!” I reached for the magazines, only to be seized roughly from behind. “Do not move, Piper-san,” said a female voice I knew all too well: Murk’s bodyguard, personal assassin and Asian wife, Mrs. Dr. Murk.
Dr. Murk tossed the incriminating pornography aside and continued as if uninterrupted, clasping his hands behind his back and beginning a slow pace back and forth. “While perusing your drivel-lined bookshelves, Piper, I noticed you have read Dune. Therefore I assume you are familiar with the gom jabbar, the Bene Gesserit test of humanity, but I will refresh your memory for the benefit of those who will no doubt read your whiny account of this day. My lovely wife wears upon her finger a poisoned needle. The slightest scratch from this ensures that you will die a most horrible and agonizing death. You will spasm uncontrollably and purge from every orifice, vomiting and shitting like a mink, doubtless biting though your own tongue in the process. I don’t need to remind you how desperately my lovely wife wants this to happen. She really loathes you, Piper, you know that?”
“Y-yes,” I said, fear and the four cups of black coffee I recently ingested threatening to loosen my bowels.
“Good,” said Murk. “Now, you will answer my questions. Should you even attempt to lie, my wife will prick you with that needle without the slightest hesitation, and the two of us will gleefully watch your demise. Understood?” I nodded as the frenzied, effeminate urgings of Richard Simmons, imploring the big girls to kick higher, continued over the sound of The Beach Boys’ “Help Me, Rhonda”.
“First…why have you not updated your website in months?”
“What…what do you mean?” I asked. The needle flicked slightly towards my face.
“I would advise against making me repeat myself,” Murk said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Murk!” I said, frantic. “I did update my website, just last week.”
Murk considered this. “Really?” he asked.
“Yes, really. And I’ve resumed my book reviews. I just put up the second one in 3 weeks!”
“I see.” Murk motioned and his Asian wife grudgingly released her iron hold. “What about that pathetic blog of yours?”
“I put up a poem by Langston Hughes a week or so ago—“
“Hughes,” Murk made a face. “A minor poet of middling talent.”
“Are you insane?! He was the father of the Harlem Renaissance and one of the greatest poets America has ever produced!”
“Oh…you mean that Langston Hughes. Well, no matter.”
I exploded. “And I put up another post today! God damn it, Murk, you haven’t even been to my website, have you?”
“Of course not, Piper. Do you think I actually care about anything you write?”
“Then—then why do all this?” I stammered.
“No particular reason, although I must confess I had a morbid curiosity to see how you live.” Murk cast a disdainful look about the room. “Nice place. I’m thinking about giving up the palatial estate and renting the apartment across the hall. We could be neighbors.” I stared at him in disbelief. “Anyhoo, we should be going,” Murk said cheerfully as his Asian wife wrenched open my broken door and casually dropped it on the floor of my apartment. “We took the Murk-copter today. It’s parked on the roof. There’s probably significant structural damage to your building by now, but from the looks of this place I’d say a leaky roof is the least of your problems,” Murk said as they took their leave.
“Oh, and keep the Richard Simmons tape, Piper, and try not to use it for anything other than its intended purpose. Which is exercise, by the way, not eye-candy.”
WE DID IT!
Good job WoWees.
Remeber a few months back, and Malach's world's dangerous bug campaign? Well, we did it. Go to Google, and type "world's most dangerous bug" in to the search, and then hit the "I'm Feeling Lucky" button. Taa-Daa, our first Google bomb.
You guy rule.
I am Malach, once again proud of the Buckos and WoWees.
Hump Day Jokes ....
A little boy blows up his balloon and starts flicking it all around the house with his finger. His mother tells him to stop it as he's liable to break something. The boy continues."Johnny!" Mom screams. "Knock it off. You're going to break something." He stops and eventually Mom leaves for a short trip to the store.
~*~*~*~*~
There is a girl walking up the stairs in a church one day. As the priest is walking by, he looks up and notices that this girl is not wearing any panties. The Priest calls the girl and gives her $20 and says, "Little girl, take this money and buy yourself some panties. It's not proper to walk around without any panties on."
~*~*~*~*~
There was a boy standing on a corner selling fish. He was saying, "Dam fish for sale, dam fish for sale." A preacher walked up and asked why he was calling them dam fish. The kid said, "I caught them at the dam, so they're dam fish."
The Bullshit that is the Alexa ranking
Alexa, another piece of internet garbage.
Everyone knows how important your Alexa ranking for your website. Advertisers, Wikipedia, and popular site rankings use it fairly exclusively to gauge the popularity of a site and relevancy. The better the ranking, the more popular the site, the more money you will make.
Well, Alexa is ALL BULLSHIT. Why? Alexa gauges the popularity of a site, not based on visitors, but based upon visits by owners of people with Alexa toolbars, the more people who visit, who have the toolbar, the more it increases you popularity ranking. So Malach tried an experiment a about a year ago, and one more recently. A year ago, he dowload a toolbar on three computers, and visited his site everyday. His site, over the course of 3 months went from having no ranking to being ranked 38,000 (in Alexa the lower the better, Yahoo for example is number 1). That meant, I had the 38,000th most popular site on the net, according the Alexa. That is inline with stuff like Gwen Stafani, or Maddonna's website. Again, That was just using 3 toolbars. Malach stooped using them for about 8 months and of course his site dropped to 2,000,526 most popular.
So more recently, he started just using one toolbar, to see how high he could get just using one. And here is what I have.
My Site went from 2,000,526 to 555,664 in the course of 3 weeks. This blog went from not ranked to 1,210,862, and both continue to shoot up a couple times a week. I am going to see who far I can get it up, with just the one, and where maxes out. I will keep you updated. Spread the word.
I am Malach, the Bullshit exposer.
How much do I love China?
The power of the internet.
Here's a great website, thegreatfirewallofchina.org. Basically the site test for you, what website are available is China, and passes the great communist filter. RubberSuit Studios and The Wand of Wonder do.
I am Malach, and the Chinese Goverment makes me hot.
IT'S TIME FOR . . . . . .
HUMPERS!
I am Malach, and you need to watch the Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Good Job.
300
300 starring Gerard Butler, Lena Headey, Rodrigo Santoro, Andrew Tiernan and David Wenham is based on Frank Miller's graphic novel of the same name. It recounts the Battle of Thermopylae, in which 300 Spartans (and other Greek city-states) took on the army of King Xerxes of Persia.
The visuals of the movie itself were breathtaking. While it's not like another one of Miller's graphic novels turned movie (Sin City) this movie just has as much violence. The acting, while not a reason I went to see the movie, was average at best. Though Gerard Butler as Spartan King Leonidas was memorable....though he does tend to overact in some scenes.
While history already tells us what happens at the end of the Battle, you should still see 300. It's your duty to see 300.
---
Not the longest review, but it is in my opinion that you should go see 300. If the heads and various other limbs flying across the screen won't bring you, then at least see it for...well, I guess that's the only reason you should go see the movie.
“Read the Bills Act” (RTBA)
This has about as much chance of happening as Anne Coulter sucking Howie Mandel's cock. But it's an interesting idea.
Found here;
You can read the text of RTBA by clicking the Draft Legislation tab above, or you can start by reading a summary of the legislation below. Following that summary is a description of our strategy for passing RTBA, and then a call to action.
Part 1: What RTBA does and why
Most Congressmen are lawyers, and many others are businessmen. They know what “fiduciary responsibility” is. For Members of Congress, fiduciary responsibility means reading each word of every bill before they vote.
But Congress has not met this duty for a long time. Instead . . .
Some devestating news for the WoWees
The Angry Veteran has died.
Breaking news for CNN.com, The Angry Veteran was killed today by a sniper, on the steps of New York City Federal Court, just before his trial for refusing to register for the Superhero Registration Act. The Sniper was thought to be Palmer, but it tuned out not be, and he got away
After 60 years of fighting Nazi's, Communists, and crazy German's with Red Skulls, The Angry Veteran's shield has been broken. His young boy love Bucky was so distraught he could not even answer questions.
The Veteran, also known as Steve Rogers, surrendered to police several months ago after refusing to register for the Super Hero Registration Act, enacted after a out of control powered being caused a major catastrophe. Superheroes since have been split, with Rogers leading the dissenters, and Cap'n FlackPaperPants representing the those for registration.
It was a violent end for America's hero.
The Angry Veteran first strapped his sheild on in 1941, entering WWII with the US, and because of his actions, Germany and Japan were defeated. He then established a Jewish home state in the Middle East. He then went on to fight in Korea, Vietnam, The Falklands, bring down the USSR in the 80's, and finally, personally hang Saddam Hussein. He was a symbol of America's strength, and it strong Lawful Good alignment.
"The Modern World and it magic technologies were foreign to the Veteran," stated anti hero Malach the Merciless. "I mean the man could pound down Caffeine Free Diet Coke and foot stick of peperoni, but text messaging was foreign to him. He was a good Ninji though."
Sometime villain, sometime lush, The Angry Piper was deeply saddened. "The Veteran and I, we spent a lot of time together. Yeah, he took out my Greg Brady Replication Machine; man did that piss me off. But we were like one, we even shared women, sometimes minutes after each other."
Crazy Mad Scientist Dr. Mantodea agreed. "I used to make all these crazy inventions for him, like bomb filled back packs he could spray from his wrists, shit that no one in his right mind would try . . . and you know what, he always took them out to fight crimes, and never complained."
Dr. Murk, Roger's lawyer, made this statement outside the hospital " . . . he will be sorely missed. He was fun. Remember his Dragon Eel phase? It too bad some many of his war buddies died at the hands of villians, in bizarre ways. YOU COMPLETE ME!!!!"
One person though seemed to relish his demise. "That fool Rogers, he deserved it. He was a FAG! He didn't represent America, not like me," Mitt Romney yelled out from a bullhorn to a crowd of Turbates at UMASS.
Cap'n Flack for once could not be reached for comment
For continued following of these events as they unfold please go to our subsidiary, CNN.com
I am Malach, and today is a sad day, I poured a 40 for the Veteran
Hump Day Jokes...
"No, what?"
"He just ate the cue ball off my pool table... whole!"
"Yeah, that doesn't surprise me," replied the guy, "he eats everything insight.
The guy finishes his drink, pays his bill, pays for the stuff the monkey ate and leaves. Two weeks later the guy is in the bar again, and has his monkey with him. He orders a drink and the monkey starts running around the bar again. While the man is finishing his drink, the monkey finds a maraschino cherry on the bar. He grabs it, sticks it up his butt, pulls it out, and eats it. Then the monkey finds a peanut, and again sticks it up his butt, pulls it out, and eats it.
The bartender is disgusted. "Did you see what your monkey is doing now?"
"No, what?" replied the man.
"Well, he stuck a maraschino cherry and a peanut up his butt, pulled them out, and ate them!" said the bartender.
"Yeah, that doesn't surprise me," replied the guy. "He still eats everything in sight, but ever since he had to pass that cue ball, he measures everything first.
~*~*~
From the desk of Just Me:
A skinny little white guy goes into an elevator, looks up and sees this HUGE black guy standing next to him. The big guy sees the little guy staring at him, looks down and says:"7 feet tall, 350 pounds, 20 inch private, 3 pound left testicle, 3 pound right testicle, Turner Brown".The white man faints and falls to the floor.The big guy kneels down and brings him to, shaking him. The big guy says, "What's wrong with you?"In a weak voice the little guy says, "What EXACTLY did you say to me?"The big dude says, "I saw your curious look and figured I'd just give you the answers to the questions everyone always asks me.... I'm 7 feet tall, I weigh 350 pounds, I have a 20 inch private, my left testicle weighs 3 pounds, my right testicle weighs 3 pounds, and my name is Turner Brown."
~*~*~
A U.S. Marine squad was marching north of Faluijiah when they came upon an Iraqi terrorist, badly injured and unconscious. On the opposite side of the road was an American Marine in a similar but less serious state. The Marine was conscious and alert and as first aid was given to both men, the squad leader asked the injured Marine what had happened.
Happy Birthday Wand of Wonder
The WoW is one year old today.
So, let celebrate. 77,072 unique vistors have visited the WoW since it's begining veiwing 279,953 pages. That is 683,510 hits. Who likes us? Well most of our visitors come from the United States, Canada, China, Brazil, and Spain. The top 10 most popular pages of the past year (not counting the main page of this blog)?
1. The Murk and Malach Show
2. Our Podcast Directory
3. A couple Quickies
4. Ding Dong Saddam is Dead
5. Spacefarmer is dead
6. A Nacho Libre Review
7. Dead Fall River soldier
8. Some more Chuck Norris facts
9. The WoW vs. Wikinazis part one
10. Dr. Murk's Closet
Ahh, the memories, and what have we learned? People like article about death. Also we must thank these website for the thousands of readers they have sent our way. MySpace, Blogger, Google, InvisionFree, QQ.com, Yahoo, The CAB, and RubberSuit Studios.
Some Announcements.
I am still looking for artist of all types to join The Deck of Many Things. I have a small publisher who is monitoring the blog and interested to see what occurs, and possibly publish it as a series of books, so their is some financial gain. If you want join please read the "rules".
Also, a lot of people were asking, and many had given up, but The New West has relaunched. Well sort of. Hex has remodeled the whole idea as a new webcomic called Sunshine. I have a lot of episodes, and they will premiere at The Deck of Many Things. They are genius, in a way the Michael Jackson is genius.
I am Malach a real nowhere man.
Spiderman 3
For the next 24 hours only.
NBC.com is offering a 7 1/2 minute HD preview of Spiderman 3. You can catch it here, it is a 6 minute download on broadband, so be patient, you have until 9PM EST 3/6/07. Enjoy.
I am Malach and I bring you WoWees the good stuff.
Latest Digital Art Files from the Captain's Desktop
Can anyone guess where these sources images were taken? (hint: it's pretty obvious.)
- English Fortitude
- The Devil's Swan
- Faces In The Steel
- Abandoned Temple
- Traitors Gate
- Spirit In The Water
- Safe Harbor
The Truth is Far, Far Away!
I was totally blown away from reading this, if all these allegations are true... then the wool has truly been pulled over our eyes.
Uncomfortable Truth: Was the Death Star Attack an Inside Job?
We’ve all heard the “official conspiracy theory” of the Death Star attack. We all know about Luke Skywalker and his ragtag bunch of rebels, how they mounted a foolhardy attack on the most powerful, well-defended battle station ever built. And we’ve all seen the video over, and over, and over, of the one-in-a-million shot that resulted in a massive chain reaction that not just damaged, but completely obliterated that massive technological wonder.
Like many Americans, I was fed this story when I was growing up. But as I watched the video, I began to realize that all was not as it seemed. And the more I questioned the official story, the deeper into the rabbit hole I went.
Presented here are some of the results of my soul-searching regarding this painful event. Like many citizens, I have many questions that I would like answered: was the mighty Imperial government really too incompetent to prevent a handful of untrained nerf-herders from destroying one of their most prized assets?
Or are they hiding something from us?
Who was really behind the attack?
Why did they want the Death Star destroyed?
No matter what the answers, we have a problem.
Below is a summary of my book, Uncomfortable Questions: An Analysis of the Death Star Attack, which presents compelling evidence that we all may be the victims of a fraud of immense proportions.
1) Why were a handful of rebel fighters able to penetrate the defenses of a battle station that had the capability of destroying an entire planet and the defenses to ward off several fleets of battle ships?
2) Why did Grand Moff Tarkin refuse to deploy the station’s large fleet of TIE Fighters until it was too late? Was he acting on orders from somebody to not shoot down the rebel attack force? If so, who, and why?
3) Why was the rebel pilot who supposedly destroyed the Death Star reported to be on the Death Star days, maybe hours, prior to its destruction? Why was he allowed to escape, and why were several individuals dressed in Stormtrooper uniforms seen helping him?
4) Why has there not been an investigation into allegations that Darth Vader, the second-ranking member of the Imperial Government, is in fact the father of the pilot who allegedly destroyed the Death Star?
5) Why did Lord Vader decide to break all protocols and personally pilot a lightly armored TIE Fighter? Conveniently, this placed Lord Vader outside of the Death Star when it was destroyed, where he was also conveniently able to escape from a large-sized rebel fleet that had just routed the Imperial forces. Why would Lord Vader, one of the highest ranking members of the Imperial Government, suddenly decide to fly away from the Death Star in the middle of a battle? Did he know something that the rest of the Imperial Navy didn’t?
6) How could any pilot shoot a missile into a 2 meter-wide exhaust port, let alone a pilot with no formal training, whose only claim to fame was his ability to “bullseye womprats” on Tatooine? This shot, according to one pilot, would be “impossible, even for a computer.” Yet, according to additional evidence, the pilot who allegedly fired the missile turned off his targeting computer when he was supposedly firing the shot that destroyed the Death Star. Why have these discrepancies never been investigated, let alone explained?
7) Why has their been no investigation into evidence that the droids who provided the rebels with the Death Star plans were once owned by none other than Lord Vader himself, and were found, conveniently, by the pilot who destroyed the Death Star, and who is also believed to be Lord Vader’s son? Evidence also shows that the droids were brought to one Ben Kenobi, who, records indicate, was Darth Vader’s teacher many years earlier! Are all these personal connections between the conspirators and a key figure in the Imperial government supposed to be coincidences?
8) How could a single missile destroy a battle station the size of a moon? No records, anywhere, show that any battle station or capital ship has ever been destroyed by a single missile. Furthermore, analysis of the tape of the last moments of the Death Star show numerous small explosions along its surface, prior to it exploding completely! Why does all evidence indicate that strategically placed explosives, not a single missile, is what destroyed the Death Star?
With Age Comes Horror
This past week, instead of doing things such as "work" and "learning" in chemistry, we had this conversation regarding nostalgia. It's no secret that most of the shows and books we loved as kids actually sucked (except Transformers. Man, that was awesome). They stick into our minds as something very special to us, though, until we actually go back and watch them again. You all know exactly what I'm talking about, so there's really no need to give any examples, as this isn't really the point.
I was recently inspired by a friend to reread some Calvin and Hobbes, so I sampled a bit of my massive collection. Back in the day, when I first gave it a read, it was playfully hilarious and quite amusing to me. Bill Watterson's art and the wanton attitude of Calvin as a whole never ceased to bring me smiles and sunshine. I never knew, though, that Watterson really had something to say.
My reading yielded things that my puny little sixth grade mind couldn't even begin to fathom. Watterson inserted social commentary and philosophical quandary into his comic, so much so that it almost scared me to think that I could have read it all several times years ago and never even gave it a thought. What I found was not the lighthearted romp of yore but a stunning satire, a perfectly placed societal snub.
I am not denying Watterson's credibility as an artist. His comic is still the best around and it actually says more about him that he can write for young and old alike and still keep things fresh and funny. My point is, though, is that it is not the same. I tried simply to take a trip to the past, to simpler times when life was without burden, adults held my hand every step of the way, and mathematics as a concept was easy and perfectly understandable. I wanted some sort of escape from responsibility, age, and what my teacher calls "math class." I instead found the stunning realization that change is altogether universal and unavoidable. Like it or not, my entire perception of everything had been altered by increased age, experience, intelligence, and wisdom. My past, though inarguably part of who and where I am today, is gone, locked in the archives of myself, never to be visited.
On the other hand, though, as a student who takes great interest in sociology, Calvin and Hobbes is fantastic. Like the poems of Stephen Crane (one of few poets I respect), these strips say so much in so little. The messages are subtle and easily missed, but they are there when read in such a fashion. I wasn't disappointed to find this as much as I was surprised, but I'm not certain yet if the surprise was pleasant. My current explication of Watterson's classic has led me to the discovery that I have been steadily engraved with ardent cynicism over the years, and I can only wonder where my newfound satirical outlook has struck between these two occurrences. If a lesson can be learned from this, it has got to be this: take great care when trying to revisit the past.
When Vader calls the Emperer
Out of all of the Star Wars' spoofs that I have seen, this one has to be the funniest so far.
A call to artists
The Deck of Many Things
I have begun a new webcomic, called The Deck of Many Things, we are looking for artist to join us, instructions at the blog. The goal is to make a book.
I am Malach and I like you.
Latest Digital Art Files from the Captain's Desktop
I always use my own images, but today I decided to use some pics I found online. Enjoy!
McCain says he misspoke in saying U.S. lives 'wasted'
Yes there lives were wasted, you pansy!!! Listen up, everyone who has been offended when Obama and McCain both said the American soldier's lives have been wasted in Iraq...
YES, THEY WERE WASTED!
For fuck's sake, that's the reason why the war is so fucked up, you cock heads. If their lives were NOT being wasted, then that would mean the war was actually going well and they were accomplishing something with their sacrifice!
They are not. Therefore when they are killed, their sacrifice is a waste. Waste is when you take something that has VALUE and expend it one something that does not return that value equally. THAT'S WHAT IT FUCKING MEANS!!!!!!!!!
So yes, even though both McCain and Obama chickened out when they were called on what hey said, I'm saying it again;
THE LIVES OF OUR TROOPS WHO HAVE DIED IN IRAQ HAVE BEEN WASTED! THEY DIED FOR NOTHING! AND IT'S YOUR FUCKING FAULT AMERICA!
Stop getting all offended when the fucking truth is pointed out to you. Get mad at the assholes you elected and thus are RESPONSIBLE for our soldiers being killed!