The Simpsons are still around?

For the first time in quite a significant while, I sat down and watched an episode of The Simpsons last night, while eating dinner.  It was pretty obvious that this episode was in honor of Black History Month or equivalent, due to the nature of it.  But the biggest impression was left on me in the final two minutes, as Grandpa Simpson drops the bomb about the family history, and reveals that the Simpsons lineage has some African-American in it.

Homer is 1/32 black, thus making Bart, Lisa, and Maggie 1/64th.  And suddenly all of them are gushing over how awesome it is, and how it explains all sorts of racial stereotypes that they’ve had the propensity to demonstrate from time to time.  That explains why . . .

I know that The Simpsons is pretty non-continuous, and that such a reveal will be forgotten / has been forgotten in current episodes, but I can’t help but wonder the thought process behind the story.  It felt like a little bit of an attempt to draw reaction and hope it gets ratings.  Maybe it’s to combat The Cleveland Show?  No matter, it seemed a tad stupid.

Say what you will about the Simpsons, but they’re for better or worse, the longest running sitcom in television history.  With this little nugget of information, does this also make the Simpsons the longest-running black sitcom in history, passing series like The Cosby Show, and The Steve Harvey Show?  That’ll be some interesting trivia to dredge up in the future.

Nothing can be done about it

When playing Left 4 Dead, one of the biggest pleasures in the game is when you’re playing as the infected, namely the Smoker, and you manage to capitalize on a situation where the survivors must traverse an obstacle to where there is no returning once crossed, and you get that one perfect smoke, capturing one of the players, basically stranding them from the other three, and there is nothing that the other team can do, except accept their loss of one teammate as you watch with glee as your Smoker strangles the player to death with the satisfying neck snap sound at the very end.  There are many places in which this kind of scenario can take place, and it is one of the best feelings in the world when executed correctly.

I’m currently working an assignment now, for a company that I freelanced with back in the winter of 2007.   I was reluctant to come back here, because the work wasn’t all that glamorous, and most importantly, I didn’t like the notion that freelancers weren’t permitted internet access, thus cutting off my channel to the rest of the world; I work fast, and I like to create my own downtime, to which I like to use to chat, email, and occasional surfing.  But the pay rate at this place is among the best I’ve had in recent years, and since paying the bills and having beer money is pretty essential, I took it.

However, this time, I have an ace up my sleeve, and in fact it’s here while at work that I’m posting this clever analogy.

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Jock Hair

I am no stranger to generalization.  It’s happened to me, and I’ve done it to others.  Everyone has, and has been.

Yesterday, I was a little early to trivia, and for whatever reason, this geek bar had one of the televisions tuned into ESPN, which was at the time showing the Phillies and Yankees game.  Naturally, I have little vested interest in either team, but if I had to pick a team, it would be the Yankees, because any losses that occur to the Phillies are good for the Braves.  Unfortunately, that was not the fortune, as the Phillies were obliterating the Yankees all night long.

At one point in the game, I made a quiet remark about how a hit ball “was gone,” since Ryan Howard does that about 45 times a year every year.  The cute 20-something bartender took notice, and then turned at the television, and then back to me; obviously the thoughts of me actively watching baseball in a geek bar or something of the sort was in her head.

Yeaaah… I’m kind of a jock too,” I say, to explain that yes, despite enjoying video games, nerd culture, and geek trivia, I still love me my professional sports.

I figured,” she responded, much to my surprise.  Am I that obvious to my interests on supposed opposite ends of the spectrum?

The hair kind of gives it away.“  Now this was interesting.  So for lack of a better term, my hair has been somewhat of a controlled, deliberate mess for the last few years or so.  I like it that way, too.  But to be indicative of jock-like tendencies, it has never occurred to me before.

So for the first time in my life . . . well, not really, because I’m pretty sure I was generalized all sorts of things when I was 16-18 and my hair was every color of the CMYK color wheel at some point, but I guess for the first time since having somewhat more civilized hair, I’ve been pegged as a type, based on my hair.  My apparently jock hair.  Fascinating.

Downsides to living in Bataria

So, I’m off for the next two days as I’m between assignments right now.  I’ve been fairly productive the last few days and over the weekend, doing all sorts of mundane household chores and cleaning up, since it’s been long overdue, to which I am quite pleased with.  This morning, after I did my usual jog around Zombieland and my typical array of lifts, sit-ups, push-ups, and pull-ups, I decided that since it’s hot as a witch’s tit these days and I have the spare time, to go visit the neighborhood’s pool.  It’s been a while, and the thought of taking a nice swim, to cool off and loosen up my muscles sounded like a great idea.

I get to the pool, and I arrive at the gate; I wave my keycard on the keypad to unlock the gate, when I realize that it’s not necessary; the gate is broken.  Not broken in the sense that the keypad isn’t working, but broken in the sense that the keypad is there, the keypad is registering my keycard, but it’s completely unnecessary, because the magnetic block is pried back and bent away just enough to where contact between magnetic locks is now impossible.  In other words, I’m paying association dues on broken equipment that clearly has gone ignored for quite some time due to the visible rust on the bolts, and the swimming pool is completely accessible to the entire world now.

And the entire world, or at least all of Bataria is capitalizing on this free pool concept.  All around poolside were littered cups and cans, and a few cigarette butts.  I found several squirt toys laying around poolside, and it’s very obvious that the HOA doesn’t send anyone to clean up around the place; but in all fairness, they shouldn’t have to, because the residents of Bataria really should know better, and that it’s really not that great of an idea to shit where you eat.

It’s not my responsibility, but I decided to make it my responsibility; at least for today.  I picked up the cans and cups of garbage that were left behind, and placed them into the trash receptacle that has obviously been ignored for quite some time as well.  And then I picked up the squirt guns and toys, and smashed them against the concrete, or snapped them in two across my knee before throwing them in the trash.  Crazy motherfuckers out there, best to not leave your shit laying around, I guess.

So with my poolside now a little bit cleaner, and a little more civilized, I was able to enjoy my morning swim just a little bit more, but seriously, there are some real downsides to living in Bataria sometimes that just won’t ever be fixed.

The Kung Fu Kid vs. The Karate Kid

At first, I had wanted nothing to do with the idea of Will Smith using his influence and pull to recreate one of the greatest movies of all time, in The Karate Kid, but using his own kid as the titular role.  And then when the premise of the plot was butchered to where instead of being in the United States, but instead China, I was a little beside myself; obviously from the get-go anyone with half a brain knows that it’s no longer karate.  I thought the idea for the film was utter crap.  However, that ended up changing somewhere down the line.

And that was when I found out that Jackie Chan was the actor chosen to essentially be “The Mr. Miyagi” of the film, and then suddenly, my tune began to change real quick.  I’m a huge admirer of Jackie Chan, not just for the entertainment of all his acting, acrobatics, and martial arts, but I really admire the guy’s intelligence.  He speaks so many different languages, has a massive fanbase both in the United States as well as Asia, and there’s something about the guy that seems genuine and that he truly puts himself into all his roles.  With him as part of the flick, suddenly the movie didn’t seem like it could be that bad.

In conclusion?  I was right.  The Kung Fu Kid wasn’t bad at all . . . Mostly because pretty much, we’ve already seen the entire movie before.  (Potential spoilers, plot summaries ahead)

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