Monkey Shines: An Experiment in Futility

Hello again, gentle readers. I just wanted to check in and fill you in on the latest. It would appear that, so far, the Million Monkey Typewriter Consortium has hit the proverbial wall in its attempt to provide usable material for Kungfupower Blog. However, since I am paying tens of dollars annually for this service (and because I'm out of haiku), I have decided to post some of the more legible bits that have emerged just so that you can see the difficulty I am facing with this project. These fragments are quoted directly, in all of their random glory, but please bear in mind that the writers of said fragments are, in fact, just monkeys with tiny little monkey brains...pounding randomly on typewriters. I apologize in advance.

Example 1:
"...he;;placedhis hand.onher\gen7tly heaving;;;;; can.of p0rkandsbeans..."

ooh la la...très romantique, non?

Example 2:
"...your a grea tguy;donteve.r;changge :P..."

Something like this was written numerous times in my high school yearbook, but that was a completely different set of monkeys at work there.

Example 3:
"...0bama-fo;rchangeyukanbe.lievin..."

I've long suspected that campaign slogans were acquired by this method, and here's the smoking gun!

Example 4:
"...E=mc3..."

So close! Keep trying, little monkey!

And last but not least, here is my personal favorite:

"...poopiefartstinkcookieapple..."

I'm going to have a t-shirt made with that one.

Nevertheless, despite these minor setbacks, I still have faith in the monkey thing. It is a good plan and just needs time to work. If there's one thing I've learned from living in California and observing the goings on in Sacramento for the past 8 years, it's that there is no problem too big that it can't eventually be fixed by a large room full of monkeys throwing vast sums of money down a black hole.

I Am a Jerk

Sunday night I decided to drive out to Long Beach and play at the Auld Dubliner's Sunday night Irish music jam. I had a great time and was able to reconnect with some terrific people I had not seen in a long time. Unfortunately, during all the fun, I forgot to have my parking validated. When I reached the parking lot exit, I was greeted by quite a rude surprise.

"That will be $10.50," the gate attendant dutifully informed me.

I felt my blood rush to my face, and the tension build from my shoulders and quickly spread all the way down to my hands, causing me to grip the steering wheel with such intensity that I though I might actually rip it off the the steering column completely.

$10.50??? For parking????

Before I knew it, a string of words like "rip off" and "scam" were pouring from my mouth, liberally sprinkled with words of a coarser nature normally reserved for use in more nautical settings. The righteous indignation which had so utterly taken control of my very being was of a degree that would normally be aimed at black market kidney smugglers, Nazis, and people who urinate on public toilet seats.

While none of my impotent invective was hurled directly at the person in the booth, I am certain that listening to ill-tempered motorists grumbling vulgarities is probably low on the list of things he loves about his job, falling somewhere between the low pay and the lack of bathroom opportunities. Of course, for all my complaining, I still had to pay the $10.50, and I certainly didn't feel any better about it. All that I managed to accomplish with my peevish tirade was to make myself look like an uncouth lout in front of a complete stranger.

Bravo.

Man Up!

At my Sunday night study group, a short conversation arose as to the meaning and origin of terms such as "man up" or "cowboy up." The general consensus that emerged regarding the meaning of the phrase "man up" was that it served as an exhortation to draw upon some hidden resource of courage when confronted with a pressing danger or obstacle, such as beginning a difficult new job, facing a need to make sacrifices for one's family, or fending off an attack by killer bees. It was also generally agreed that the term "cowboy up" was a redneck version of the term "man up," implying a more Coors-beer-oriented strain of courage, presumably resulting in a display of dominance over some sort of livestock.

Among the members of my study group, there was virtually no knowledge as to the origin of the term "man up" or of its redneck variant. This piqued my feline sense of curiosity, and I commenced to undertake a bit of research on the subject.

According to Professor Nigel Mincemeat of St. Fuzzyknickers College of Ancient Literature and Automotive Maintenance at Oxford, Mississippi, the term "man up" has its roots in the works of the Classical Greeks. The almost forgotten poet Efeminades in his epic poem The Viriliad, wrote of the hero Virilides--wielder of the Lance of Apollo--and of his quest for the Golden Eggs of Zeus. Virilides manages to find the Golden Eggs in a cave, places them in a sack, and tries to abscond with the treasure, but he is confronted by the horrifying monster, Kakogynos, who guards them. Describing the ensuing battle, The Viriliad reads:

"...and, manning up,
Virilides did grab his sack and thrust forth his mighty lance
to penetrate the throbbing heart of the beast."

The phrase has also been found in a little-known 13th Century English manuscript found in the Abbey of St. Conan Comedianus in Co. Limerick, Ireland. It is a text of instruction in the proper technique of killing spiders:

"...an werre thar nary a nobbin fer ye runnin, than whar ye goin to lang aboon upon yon stoole, in ye stead of cowardise, ye do mann up fer to aplye yon heele upon beastie fer to grine unto the erthe..."

One of the more interesting uses of the phrase was found in a work of somewhat dubious origin. In 1987, one Joey Smits claimed to have been revealed a new faith. The basis of this new faith lay in his discovery of a stack of golden cocktail napkins hidden in a barstool in the Cumorah Tavern in Syracuse, NY. According to Smits, the napkins were of antediluvian origin and written in a language called Reconfigured Sumerian, which he was able to translate with the aid of a sacred Sumerian shot glass which he called "The Wallbanger." One of the fruits of Smits' "translation" efforts was The Book of Nehi, from the second chapter of which came the following verses:

17. And it came to pass that Nehi was joined unto Pepsi, the daughter of Pibb, and was bound through an oath of honor to marry her.

18. And lo, Nehi did look upon her and found her visage to be exceeding loathsome and a vile sight.

19. But behold, the LORD was with Nehi.

20. And verily did Nehi man up and lo, he did know his wife, yea, numerous times. And verily was he blessed with many sons, bearing semblance to their mother in no wise.

In summation, as can be seen from the following examples, the term "man up" may quite possibly be much older than any of us can imagine. So the next time one of your buddies is whining about how he feels unfulfilled in his career, hated by his own children, and rejected by his wife, stand proudly with countless generations of mighty warriors before you and tell him to "man up" and shut up! Only by pushing all those troublesome thoughts down into some deep dark place we can all hope to stand triumphant as men!

The Curse of Indecision

This evening, while I was watching TV and winding down from a tiring day, I was given a clear choice. My mother, who was in the kitchen setting the table, shouted to me: "What do you want to drink?"

I thought about the sodas that were in the fridge. Did I want Sierra Mist or Caffeine-free Diet Pepsi? The choice was simple, but I couldn't seem to decide. "What are we having for dinner?" I shouted back, hoping that this knowledge would make the choice easier.

"Hamburger and scalloped potatoes," shouted Mother.

No good. Either of those drinks would do. Yet I was paralyzed with indecision, and too tired to be bothered with it. Impelled by a lazy desire to shirk the responsibility that had been placed before me, I shouted back again: "Surprise me."

Relieved at successfully having passed the buck, I returned to my TV-watching pursuits.

Momentarily, the call for supper was made and my step-father and I dutifully filed in to commence chowing down. I looked to the table and saw two caffeine-free Diet Pepsi colas--one for Mother and one for Father. I looked to my place setting, lazily curious as to what had been chosen for me.

There at my end of the table, standing as strangely out of place as a hippie at a policeman's ball, was a tall, cool, half-finished jar of La Victoria Thick and Chunky Salsa.

I had been well and duly surprised.

Awesome Kung Fu Action Pics!

We all know that kung fu rules, right? Of course we do. It's even more awesome than ninjas, but only by a little. So, gentle reader, as a reward for your acknowledgment of kung fu's supremacy above all fighting arts, I have decided to reward you with awesome kung fu images I found online. Please enjoy.

"Nun"-Chucks! Get it?

Hilarious Harry Potter Video

If you are a Harry Potter fan, then be sure to check out Erica's blog for an awesome Harry Potter vid she found on YouTube. It's pure comedy!

Oshikku Deru Deru Shiipappa

While looking for information about sumo, I somehow managed to stumble on this delightful little gem. It's just too awesome not to share with everybody. My favorite part is about 29 seconds into the video where his parents shout "Shimajiro, let's go for it together!" and he gives that determined little nod. He looks like a samurai facing battle. Also amusing was the little guy at the end shooting his fist into the air and shouting "Yatta!" meaning "Hooray!" or "I did it!" After expending so much effort in pursuit of a worthy goal, it's good to feel a proud sense of accomplishment.

(Unfortunately, the original YouTube video was taken down, but here is a link to another version of it, without subtitles. Unfortunately, that version won't allow me to embed the video.)

And for those of you who would like to sing along:

oshikko deru deru
shiipappa
shiipappa
shiipa shiipa
oshikko shiipappa

unchi deru deru
unpappa
uunpappa
unpa unpa
unchi uunpappa

It just another example of how the Japanese make everything look totally awesome!

Awesome Godzilla Tokyo Pics

In response to one of my recent blog posts Janelle, an old friend of mine from high school, sent me a couple of pictures that she took while she was living in Japan. They are pictures of a Godzilla statue which sits in Tokyo's Hibiya Park. Fortunately for you all, she has given me permission to post them on Kungfupower Blog. Thanks, Janelle! Enjoy, kids!

Even though Godzilla has visited and ravaged Tokyo numerous times, mastery of the language somehow eludes him still...

"Yo! Mothra! Where you at, dawg?
We still goin' out for noodles, or what?"

Janelle comes face to face with the horror...

Weird Recurring Dream

Last night I had it again. It's this really strange recurring dream where I'm driving around town, but I'm driving from the passenger side. There's no one in the driver's seat, and I have to reach over to the driver's side to steer. I have no idea who's operating the brakes and gas, but that detail doesn't come to mind while I'm dreaming. Also, there's never any clear reason why I'm driving this way. In the dream, I think about how unsafe this must be, and I fear getting pulled over by the police. In last night's dream, I almost was pulled over by the police, but I woke up just in time. Thank goodness. I hear that dream traffic court is a real bear.

I ran a Google search and found this interesting interpretation from a website called Dreamcrowd.com: "If you are driving from the passenger side of a car, then it suggests that you are trying to gain control of the path that your life is taking. You are beginning to make your own decisions." Whatever. Maybe there's something to that, but isn't that the case with 90% of people out there?

I think the real reason may have more to do with the fact that I went to bed hungry. Maybe if I have a small snack before bedtime, then that will keep the dream-police at bay and my dream insurance company won't be able raise my premiums! That sounds like a good reason for a bedtime milk-and-cookie snack!

The Start of It All

Howdy there, friends. Let's get this blog started off with a bang. What can I say about myself by way of introduction? First and foremost, my kung fu is the best! In case you are wondering...yes, I also have mad ninja skills. Not only that, but I've been known to stick to all the suckas, and my flow is totally dope. But enough about that.

I started this blog in the hopes of...I'm not sure what. When I was younger I felt like I just had so many important things to say about all the grave and pressing problems of the age, that I sometimes felt as if my heart would burst if I just didn't let it all out. Well, that's when I was young and dumb and thought that voting was the consummate act of meaningful self-expression. Wow...sometimes I wish that I could go backward in time and pimp-slap some sense into my head, but I have it on good authority (Jean-Claude van Damme's sci-fi masterpiece Timecop, for one) that "the same matter cannot occupy the same space," which is a fancy pseudo-scientific Hollywood way of saying that slapping my past idealistic self will result in some sort of cheesy CGI body-merging melting explosion-type thing.

Anyway, what I mean to say is that I have no illusions of being some sort of sage or prophet...although you are more than welcome to send me whatever offerings (cars, money, cigarettes, etc..) that you may deem necessary to obtain grace in my sight. Nevertheless, I hope that you, gentle readers, will find some amusement in some of the things I have to say. I thank you for tuning in.