My Top Ten Favorite Numbers

1. π
2. multiples of 10
3. Fibonacci numbers
4. multiples of 4
5. 12
6. 6
7. Kaprekar numbers
8. prime numbers
9. 1
10. φ

Shitty TV Review - Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction

In the late '90s when Fox used to have shows like The X-Files and classic Simpsons, they also had a little show that failed to find it's audience called Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction. For about an hour, the show, originally hosted by James Brolin but more memorably by Commander Riker, Jonathan Frakes, wasted viewers' time with five stories, some of which were fact, some of which were fiction, but they left the viewers guessing until the end. But in the end it never really mattered which were true or not, since they were all B.S. no matter how much research existed to verify their factuality. The show was really about how ridiculous TV could be.

First of all, the show had a host and a narrator, both of whom introduced themselves. They actually attached their names to this product, as if they had faith in it. For the first of its four seasons Beyond Belief was hosted by James Brolin, with the following three seasons hosted by Jonathan Frakes. The original narrator was Don LaFontaine, with the last season narrated by Campbell Lane. After each segment, Jonathan Frakes would recap each story, finishing off with one of the worst puns ever written that somehow tied into each story. The subsequent story recap would then try to steal the crown from the previous pun. And every time he did this, he did it with the biggest shit-eating grin on television. For that alone, the show was worth it.

Story segments usually had a supernatural slant to each of them, but all were poorly acted and staged. Imagine the reenactment segments on America's Most Wanted, but whereas they tried to make them look real by filming it on video, Beyond Belief instead put the same over/non-acting on film. I'd be surprised to hear if anybody featured in the story segments went on to have bigger, better careers.

Sister C's and my favorite segment is the one aptly titled, "They Towed My Car." In the episode, a guy in a dirty, seaweed covered suit wanders around the town muttering, "they towed ... my car." Nobody helps him except for this one kid. The guy leads him to a car and indicates that he wants the kid to open the trunk. When the kid does as he is told, the trunk opens to reveal the guy in the suit, dead. Now was this fact? Or were they just towing you along. Damn, I guess writing shitty puns is harder than it sounds.

The Dick Clark produced Beyond the Belief is unavailable on DVD, unless you count the bootlegs by the shows large German fan base. However it can be seen on the cable-only Chiller Network if you so dare, and dare you should.

My shitty TV rating: 9 turds out of 10. The stuff of legends.

Whhhy? - James Bond Jr.

Cartoons don't have to make sense. That's one the advantages to the medium. But it bothers me when the creators simply insult the intelligence of their audience. Thinking about James Bond Jr. hurts my brain. I know it's been discussed to no end, but I thought I'd give it a try. I'm not even going to bother with the content of the show, and will stick solely to the opening theme. Here are the lyrics:

Bond! James Bond Junior
No one can stop him, but SCUM always trys
Young Bond cuts through each web of spies!
He learned the game from his uncle James
Now he's heir to the name... James Bond!
James Bond Jr.!

Look out he's coming through
He's got a job to do
While he rescues the girl
James Bond Junior chases SCUM...
...Around the world!

Of course the elephant in the room is why James Bond Jr. is named James Bond Jr. when he's James Bond's nephew. (From hereafter I'll refer to Uncle Bond as "007" and Jr. as "Junior" to make things clearer.) This pissed off anyone who's seen the show, including children and babies. Yes, babies. The most commonly held theory on why he's "heir to the name" is that his father, 007's brother, is also named James Bond. This would be stupid of course, unless their father was an ass much like how George Foreman named all his children "George" or variations thereof. But I'd like to propose a few alternate theories. Maybe it's not 007's brother, but sister who married another James Bond. The name can't be that uncommon, especially when out of all spies, James Bond is probably the most famous. My other theory is that when the song says that 007 is Junior's Uncle that means that Junior is not necessarily 007's nephew, but his "nephew." 007 hooks up with a lot of chicks. It's not entirely unfathomable that he could have hooked up with his brother's wife.

The second thing that bothers me about the song is that Junior "learned the game from his Uncle James." If the song is referring to the spy game, then what the hell is 007 doing? He's compromising Britain and the world's security by revealing secrets and practices to a snot-nose kid. But if it's the game of love, then what is "Uncle" 007 doing and what makes Junior qualified to save the world?

Then there's S.C.U.M. (Saboteurs and Criminals United in Mayhem). Good job coming up with an acronym that both describes what you do and why nobody should trust your organization. I know toy execs are in love with acronyms, but don't treat kids like idiots. It's not like actual bad companies like Enron have stupid acronym names like E.V.I.L. (Evil Vicious Incontinent Lawyers). Even kids start to wonder why the bad guys picked such a poor name.

If all this could be gleaned from the opening theme alone, then just consider the number of issues there were in the TV show. I'm not even going to bother covering how everyone in the show is a descendant from someone in the movies, excepting the baddies, most of whom are the actually baddies from the movies even though most of them are dead. I won't even cover how super spy 007 has trouble dispatching each of these guys, yet Junior is able to outwit the lot of them. So I ask why, James Bond Jr.? Whhhy?!

Time Train - Chapter 13

What strange land do Rhubarb and Co. find themselves in today? Or when do they find themselves yesterday?
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“Bong! Bong! Bong!”

Florentine Lily Porterhut stepped through the threshold of the door just as the grandmother clock chimed. She had gotten to the butcher shop just in time to fetch a couple of their last good steaks.

She had also stopped off for a newspaper and to purchase some more yarn at the local textile factory. They occasionally ended up with leftover unsuitables that Florentine would snatch up for a minor penny. So with supper and the newspaper and the yarn tucked under her arms, she managed to make it home in a little less than an hour.

Florentine could never really be sure when her husband Rhubarb would be home. All that she knew was that he would be there before their food was ready to be set on the table. So with two or three hours before Rhubarb and Columbus would be home, she thought she could take her time in preparing supper.

At the butcher’s she was able to secure two fine steaks, one for Rhubarb, and one to share between herself and Columbus. While she and Columbus did not always see eye-to-eye, they yet shared a bond that also translated to their food, and she was more than willing to oblige. Furthermore she could see that Columbus took little pleasure in life aside from sleeping in his bed and eating, and for the latter she could at least make a bit of difference.

If there were many things that Florentine was unskilled in, cooking was not one of them—and in fact she was an adept cook from the age of three when she cooked her first, perfect soft-boiled egg. In the kitchen she glided around like an ice dancer across a freshly frozen pond. In mere seconds she trimmed the two steaks of all undesirables leaving only that which was consumable and worthwhile. And with genteel manner she seasoned them to perfection—a grain more or less of salt would have been too much or too little respectively. With both hunks of meat prepared, she moved on to cleaning and prepping the potatoes, peeling and cutting them and tossing them in seasonings.

Rhubarb was not especially fussy when it came to food, but Florentine knew how to take a simple taste and make it bloom. For despite her simultaneously real and feigned indifference toward her husband’s profession, she loved him dearly, and through her cooking, showed her affection.

“Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong!”

“Four o’clock already? Perhaps I should start the stove soon,” she thought to herself. But then she began to wonder what kind of excitement Rhubarb had gotten himself into today, and thought that she should hold off just a little longer before cooking the potatoes. After all, the rest would give both the meat and the potatoes ample time to marinate.

She washed her hands and resolved to knitting some more. But when she sat down, an article in the newspaper on recent paleontological discoveries caught her eye. The article discussed fossil findings in Northern America.

“Imagine that. Giant creatures roaming down our very streets.” The idea tickled her and before she knew it she had read away several minutes.

At nearly a half past, she had to get everything on the stove if she was going to be ready for Rhubarb and Columbus’ return. So setting down the paper, she set up to cook, but somehow she just couldn’t shake the idea of dinosaurs out of her head.

Celebrity Sightings - Jason Alexander

I hate clowns. I don't think they're funny. In fact, I think they're pretty scary. Who thinks putting on makeup and floppy shoes is funny? So it should go without saying that I am also not fond of circuses.

I'm also not too fond of the French, especially French-Canadians. Quit being hosers trying to make another France in the middle of your stinking moose country, eh. Speak Canadian!

Imagine my discomfort then, when I was forced to sit in on the perfect storm: Circue du Soleil. As if circuses weren't traumatic enough, what with the indentured animals and freakish clowns, now they had to add the French-Canadian element to it. And it wasn't even the first time I've seen Cirque du Soleil, so it wasn't like it was a novelty to me.

There were two highlights, though. One of the clowns was this pretty strong dude who did one-handed handstands. Oh, and I also saw one quarter of the cast of Seinfeld. Jason Alexander apparently wanted to give his daughter something to talk about in therapy and took her to see Cirque. He looked like he was enjoying the show. Too bad I can't say the same for me.

Yokai of the Week - Wanyudo

Since you voted on it, I'll continue blogging about yokai, at least for the next ten weeks. I plan on doing things a little differently with these, art-wise, so here's the first of my Yokai masterpiece series*.
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Wanyudo is one of the older yokai, with a reported sighting over a thousand years ago. It has the appearance of an angry, bald man's head in the center of a flaming wheel. His arrival usually spells disaster, as he will roll over anyone who gets in his way, ripping them to pieces. Even to look upon wanyudo brings misfortune.

Yokai Masterpiece #1 - Wanyudo - colored construction paper mounted on foam board.

*"Masterpiece" is a relative term, and only applies to the artwork, not the article.

Pork Adobo and Pancit

Blogging has made me step up my game when it comes to cooking. For the 2½ months I've been blogging, I haven't yet repeated a meal. Repeated side dishes and built upon similar concepts, yes, but never the same exact meal. What I'm trying to say is that you make me want to be a better man. For reals.

Today I was torn between brats and adobo. I had some brats in the fridge, but after scoping my sister using one of the rolls for a cold-cut sandwich, I decided to hoof it over to the market and pick out a picnic roast. I've never made adobo before, but the recipe seemed simple enough. I'm not big on chicken adobo, hence the pork roast.

Two hours later I had assembled a simple Filipino meal with pork adobo and pancit (rice not pictured). I only added chicken to the pancit 'cause Sister C has issues with shrimp. Like love/hate issues. The pancit wasn't anything special, but I enjoyed the adobo. I didn't trim as much of the fat off, so it turned out better than the country ribs I cooked a while back.

Excellent Job Opportunity - Room For Growth - (Broca Beach)

With the job marketing still slowly recovering, it got me thinking about evil organizations. They always need people. Criminal organizations thrive on vast networks of people. Think about it. They even need entry-level thugs, and thugs seldom have the schooling or credentials to get hired elsewhere. It's not like a thug can drag three bloody people with him to HR and say, "here are my credentials." I guess the hiring must be all recommendation-based for those places. But I know of one secret terrorist international organization that is constantly hiring, with a number of positions for people of all backgrounds. They offer full benefits, a 401(k), gym memberships, weapons training, company housing, and have their own city and their own personal island headquarters. Yes, I'm talking about Cobra. With a slogan like "a ruthless terrorist organization determined to rule the world," how could you not like them?
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Cobra was founded by Cobra Commander in the mid-1970s. Working his way up from a lowly used-car salesman, Cobra Commander originally started his organization as an anti-establishment Ponzi scheme, but through his shear charisma and natural business acumen he was able to build a large following. He chose the town of Springfield (not to be confused with the Simpsons' Springfield) as his business headquarters, revitalizing the economically stagnant community. From there, he grew his paramilitary group and further extended his network to topple small and unstable third-world countries.

With such rapid growth, Cobra Commander thought it fitting to restructure, appointing associates such as Baroness Anastasia DeCobray and Military Armament Research Syndicate (M.A.R.S.) CEO James M. Cullen Destro XXIV to key positions within Cobra High Command.

When Springfield was destroyed, Cobra relocated to Broca Beach. Cobra also maintains headquarters in New York (Cobra Consulate), Eastern Europe (Cobra Citadel), and on Cobra Island (defunct as of 2004).

Cobra has expanded operations into a number of fields, listing companies such as Naja Trading Corp, Carbo Plumbing, Robca Realty, Broca Bros. Carnival, Orbac, Extensive Enterprises, and Arbco (AKA ARBco Regional), which manages Arbco Furniture Company, Arbco Moving & Storage, and Arbco Bros. Circus. With a network spanning the globe, Cobra seems poised to take over the world.
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Sounds like a pretty awesome place to work. And aside from the jobs running all of their corporate fronts and legitimate business ventures, they need people from all walks of life. Did you know that Cobra has constant job openings for their Viper Corps? Think you don't qualify? Majored in electronic communications? Tele-Viper. Like snowboarding? Snow Serpent. Garbage man? Toxo-Viper. Deep-sea diving? Cobra Eel. They even hire MBAs for their Crimson Guard program. They can find a position for you no matter what you do or what you're into. Don't believe me? Here are some success stories:

Dr. Mindbender
Dr. Mindbender was originally an orthodontist with an interest in genetics, cloning, and cybernetics. Cobra was able to find a perfect position for him, and some of his career highlights include designing the Cobra B.A.T.s and cloning Serpentor, who at one point led a hostile takeover of Cobra. He eventually departed Cobra due to forced early retirement in 1990. He was later cloned using his own processes before being again forced into early retirement.

Croc Master
The entrepreneurial Croc Master was a burglar alarm salesman and retired alligator wrestler who founded Guard Gators, Inc., a company pioneering the use of alligators for home security. Cobra hired him and he was responsible for renovating the security of Cobra Island. The massive undertaking required the construction of numerous canals and the training of hundreds of crocodiles which Croc Master successfully carried out. Retired in 1990.

Crystal Ball
Crystal Ball was a struggling hypnotist, until he applied to Cobra and found himself in their employ. Using his unique set of skills, he was eventually promoted to lead interrogator. Unfortunately he passed away in an earthquake in the Himalayas, but his innovations were carried on by his replacement, appropriately named Interrogator.



Raptor
Raptor was a tax consultant whose hobby was falconry. A chance encounter with Destro led to Cobra taking Raptor's hobby and turning it into a career of breeding bigger and stronger birds. He was forced to retire along with Dr. Mindbender for several corporate infractions.





Zartan
Zartan is perhaps the greatest Cobra success story. He was a military veteran and aspiring actor who found himself going nowhere. Cobra Commander contacted him for a freelance job the success of which led to further work from Cobra. He eventually assumed the leadership role for a biker gang, the Dreadnoks, which he subsequently relocated from Australia to Florida. Cobra contracted much of their work to the Dreadnoks, managed by Zartan and his siblings, Zarana and Zander. Much of Cobra's success has been as a result of the partnership formed early on between Cobra Commander and Zartan. When Cobra Commander was ousted by Serpentor as head of Cobra, it was Zartan that negotiated Serpentor out of the position paving the way for Cobra Commander's return.


I won't lie and say there aren't a few drawbacks to working with Cobra. The work can be intense, with the likelihood of permanent early retirement quite high, but it can also be rewarding. So if you are in need of a job, look no further than Cobra. With numerous openings, excellent perks, and great opportunities for job growth, Cobra should be high on your list of employers. After all, the world isn't going to rule itself.