If Travis gets to be political and talk about conspiracies, then god damnit, so will I!

Greetings, readers of the blog!
Now, I know the blog has been a bit... boring... recently.
I know, I know... Travis has gone on one of his normal political rampages and made a blogpost that was, to be honest, lacking in humor. And I know Niina isn't helping, as she has no originality what so ever. (Don't worry, Niina. It's not your fault you don't have a penis.)And me... well... I've been busy. And believe me, when you are writing 4000 word essays, you do NOT want to spend the little little free time you have left writing even more crap.Therefor, I realize the blog has been lacking a little bit recently, and I blame Ann Coulter. As should you. For everything bad that has ever happened. Ever.

EVER!

Ann Coulter has been the driving force behind every evil person ever. From the lowliest Street Thug to Hitler, Ann Coulter did it. Now, you might be confused by this everlasting truth. I mean, why Ann Coulter? I will tell you. I have found convincing evidence to back this theory up. You see, it all makes sense now. Why do you think she is behind all things bad in our world? Very simple: Ann Coulter is actually the devil.

Uncomfirmed if it's the same devil who dresses out as old ladies and stalks elevators in bad M. Night Shama-whatever-his-face movies.

Ann Coulter IS the devil. Just listen to her talk. She comes off as a transvestite with a bad temper and manical views, but it's all just a farse to throw us off her track. Think about it. She's been on Fox News, the most biased News Network there is. Dear god, last night I saw them do a report upon Call Of Duty letting children play as TERRORISTS during the game experience. So, who gains from the fear of the Terrorists? The Republicans, who just happen to be signing Fox News paycheck. And it's common knowledge the Republican Party is in league with the devil. Therefor, Ann Coulter is the devil.
Now you know.

Until next time.
/Over the Top

Big News and I'm an Asshole

May I have your attention for just a moment? I apologize sincerely for being a lazy bastard lately. Ignoring this blog was never my attention, which is why I am going to stop. I've been inspired.

I am starting another blog called Rant and Caper, in which I will rant about things in the world that piss me off (the World Bank, the IMF, immorality, the Tea Party, imperialism, sexism, gender inequality, etc.) and will feature "capers" through my imagination in the form of demented (usually) short stories. I will continue to post humorous nonsense here for you, but I want you to be aware of my new blog.
Follow it at rantandcaper.blogspot.com.

Thanks so much for the support people. The revival of this blog will be epic. Epic.

The Hidden Curriculum: A Social Factory

A rant by Yours Truly, Perpetually Bemused

                Within the institution of modern education lay two separate, yet equally pervasive, curriculums which prove to govern the lives, present and future, of our youth. The first, the advertised set of classes such as mathematics and history, is insignificant for the purposes of this discussion. The second, the hidden curriculum, is the one we need to recognize and is, in my opinion, perhaps the single most defining obstacle to social and moral progress. The Hidden Curriculum is ubiquitous in its quest to force a set of social expectations upon children when they are at their most malleable. The Hidden Curriculum can differ between schools depending upon the prevailing social status of its students, in order to fine-tune its social structure to perpetuate a system of inequality across the board.

                The unfortunate truth is that the hidden curriculum itself teaches ignorance of its own existence, and most people therefore do not recognize it as a harmful manifestation of the sociopolitical dominance of those in power and the perpetuation of a system that caters to the few. The largest problem is that what is “taught” are considered societal norms, and are therefore difficult to argue against, especially for a child, and the curriculum succeeds in masking itself in this way. Few are exceptions to this rule. Rebecca Walker, a premiere activist for feminism and equal rights, writes about this very subject in “Putting Down The Gun” when her son approaches her with problems. “Maybe girls will like me if I play sports” Rebecca Walker’s son confides in his mother, the hands of the hidden curriculum at work. “In a nutshell, the girls liked the jocks the best, and sometimes deigned to give the time of day to the other team, the computer nerds”. But why?

                The hidden curriculum seeks to enforce familial expectations, social roles, obedience, gender status, and the idea that dissent is unacceptable. In doing so, the education system acts as a factory; it pumps out “clones” if you will, who all share similar ideas about what is socially acceptable and what their place is within society. There are exceptions, of course, but not nearly enough to combat the problem. The majority of the population ends up behaving and believing the way the government wants them to. Girls like boys, boys like girls, men must make money and seek high paying jobs (private schools, upper middle class neighborhoods), no one must question the higher ups and men must do labor to be happy (working class families, inner city schools), men must be tough, aggressive and competitive, women must be devoted and emotional. A dichotomy is taught to form between man and woman. They are taught to be emotionally, physically, and “aspirationally” different. Men are prepared for office and war while women are prepared for motherhood. Walker recognizes this problem, though does not use the term “hidden curriculum” to describe it:

            
         “It occurred to me that my son was being primed for war, was being prepared to pick up a gun … It is a war against vulnerability, creativity, individuality, and the mysterious unknown.”

                From things as simple and difficult to argue as depicting a family as mommy and daddy, with daddy in a suit and tie and mommy in an apron, to things as difficult to spot as implied racism. But it is all taken in on a subconscious level by the student.

                Try to imagine a world without this hidden curriculum. A world where man and woman have more freedom to choose how they live their life and what they believe. A world where students are taught that dissent is to be celebrated, that gender is far more ambiguous than it is allowed to be, that men can be emotional and women can be competitive. Would there be a need for feminism? Social progress would be an inevitable byproduct of an enlightened people. The possibilities for humankind where man and woman are not shaped to perpetuate a broken system are endless. New governments, new economic systems, a renewed respect for the environment, a greater and more widespread, enlightened morality; these are all, as I see it, inevitable under a system without this hidden gender manufacturing.

If only.

PS Americans - Did you know that the Equal Rights Amendment, proposed way back in 1923, has yet to be incorporated into the Constitution? Ratified by 35 of the necessary 38 states, the equal rights amendment seeks to enforce equal rights for both sexes. That means equal pay for equal work, no discrimination on grounds of gender, and a general step in the right direction for moral and social progress.

It hasn’t passed yet. An amendment seeking equality HAS NOT PASSED. Way to go America.

Spread the word.

A link for you!
http://www.equalrightsamendment.org/

Also, this wasn't supposed to be funny so kiss my ass.

Shitstorm incoming

I'm going to make a post soon. But not right now. I'm not even going to apologize for being gone for so long.

But I will say I'll try harder to be a better dad for you all.

Also I'm sorry I've been gone for so long; college apps and midterms wilted the erection that is my devotion to this blog. But they're done now, I was accepted, so I'm back.

I'm not even going to apologize for apologizing when I said I wasn't going to apologize.

Also, I was in New York a while ago, and this homeless guy looks straight at me and says
"Men get menopause too! I'm horny as a motherfucker!"
I didn't give him any money because the homeless should know about menopause.

My Attempt At Being Funny And Entertaining

Oh wait nevermind. We all know that's not possible. So instead, I'll list out my favourite movies in no order because I know everyone cares. :)

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb

Now, Kubrik is kind of an awesome as hell director. He has the balls to make movies that are 1. creepy (The Shining, Clockwork Orange), 2. Unbelievably un-understandable (2001:A Space Odyssey [and don't even argue against this. Not possible]) and 3. What oh my god my eyes are in heaven (Full Metal Jacket). Dr. Strangelove is the best (yes best) black comedy that exists that I have heard of, and no doubt will it rock forever. The sympathetic president, the crazy german scientist, and the silly captain Mandrake. And all three men are played by the same man. That's how bad-ass this film is.

The Room
What? The Room? This monstrosity? How could this at any rate be called a good movie. Because so many critics have had their say about this movie, I will spare myself the time and recommend you watch the Nostalgia Critic's review of this wonderful movie.

Instead I give you: The Room: The Drinking game.
Basic idea of the game is that one drinks whenever:
1. "Oh Hi ...."
2. There is a spoon visible in the shot
3. "Tommy is such a good person", or any variation of this
4. "But Mark's Johnny's best friend!" or any variation
5. "Don't worry about it!"
6. Lisa is beautiful
7. Horribly awkward sex scene with amazingly sensual music in the background. (Bonus Round: Every thurst into a navel is double the drink)
8. People take surprisingly dramatic news with casual nonchalance
9. Every time Lisa is bored
10. The Golden Gate Bridge
11. Nonsequitor football throwing (Bonus Round: double drinks for every person in a tuxedo while throwing said football)

So to be expected, that night did not end well for anyone involved.

Shaun of the Dead
Simon Pegg and Nick Frost are not a force to be reckoned with. I love zombies, and I love Simon Pegg, there is no reason why this is not a funny movie.

Speaking of zombies, although this is a classy and entertaining 'spoof' of the whole genre, I still doubt anything will ever beat Night of the Living Bread (1990).







And now because I am incapable of writing anything of proper length, I'm going to not write anymore. Also because I am lazy. Ha ha.

List of Soil-your-pants-Awesome people I met in Australia

Okay, first of all, I would like to denounce some rumours that has been floating around.

I've heard a person say that I am not the funniest writer in this blog, and that the only thing I do is make excuses for myself not to write.

First of all, fuck you, dear reader.
I am what is keeping this blog alive. You see, Perpetually Bemused (i.e. Travis) has gone AWOL, and Niina (i.e. Nina. Originality is not a virtue given to all creatures in this world, I do not judge) is simply a complete waste of space.

Therefor, I am god as far is it comes to you, dear reader.

Now, about my trip to Australia!
There were four highlights to this trip. Or rather, four people who made me need to change my pants, simply because anyone in their close proximity soiled themselves out of sheer awe for their awesomeness. I will now list them in the order of awesome.

4. Turban-Pilot.
Turban-Pilot was the guy who flew us from Cambodia to Malaysia. You might not think much of him, being a pilot for a shitty low-cost airline company, however, he has one major thing that makes all your arguments invalid.
He has a turban. He isn't Indian, so he's not Hindu. He isn't Arab, so he's not a muslim. Why does he have a turban? Because FUCK YOU, that's why.

3. Homeless and Potentially mentally ill Afro-dude.
HPA (Homeless and Potentially mentally ill Afro-dude) doesn't give a shit about what you think. He's 70, he's white, he's Australian. But he really loves Samuel L Jackson in Pulp Fiction, so he will have none of your shit. He wears a gray jumpsuit and sneakers, has a goatee and an Afro. He also talks to himself in a scary manner, but we'll leave what he said out of the blog, as it will seriously make this post less humerous and a lot more sad.

2. Construction-Worker Santa
Exactly what it says on the tin. He's a construction worker. Who looks just like Santa. Except he's a construction worker.
I actually saw a fucking kid yell "IT'S SANTA!"

Yes, kids! During the other 11 months of the year, Santa works as a low-payed construction worker in the shithole that is the Australian outback. The more you know!

1. Redbearded Muslim Dude.
RMD is the king of awesomeness. This dude has the whole boring, Muslim style over himself. The classical white clothing, the hat and HOLYFUCKHEHASAREDBEARD!
This guy has colored his black, long, thick beard entirely red.

.... Do I need to say more? This dude is fucking hardcore. He fights the system, and with a beard like that, the system doesn't fight back.
Appearently, The Ginger I have living in my closet (others call it my brother, whatever) tells me that appearently the Prophet Muhammed colored his hair red, and not only with the blood of his enemies! (Though, knowing muslims, that was probably an essential part in hair dye.)

Appearently, long before the Dead Kennedys sang about Holidays in Cambodia (approximately 1600 years), the Muslims were rocking red beards, fighting the Christian Regime, having like 16 wives and just doing all this crazy ass shit. Dear god, I had no idea Islam was so Punk Rock.
Thank you Redbeard Muslim Dude! Thank you for enlightening me.
Now we know!

AND KNOWING IS HALF THE BATTLE!

See? I told you....

Well, that's all folks. For now.
I'd like to see Niina sit down and write a post with more than 20 words. In your face, bitch!
(Ohgodtravisdontfiremefromtheblogididntmeanit)

A busy schedule and potential comics

First of all: Woot woot, new design. Badass, amirite?
My enormously oversized images that Travis always yelled at me for posting might actually fit now!

Second of all: I've been busy. Okay? The IB has taken up a lot of my time. However, I have finally bested the beast (for like, a few weeks anyway) so I will now begin posting some stuff that is actually thought through, and not your run-to-the-mill "OOOoooh, lunch-break let's post shit on the blog"-posts.

It will be awesome. It might even include comics drawn by me.

Yes. I know. I'm a fucking nerd.
Until tomorrow or whenever it gets posted!

/Over the Top

Having a Penis is Bringing Me Down

Hail, children. Classes have commenced and I am like the neglectful father, allowing my readers to stew in my indifference. But no more; I've missed you, and no amount of women can replace you.

The first class I had this semester was Women's Studies. It has come to my attention that this is the only class I am going to have to put more than a little effort into; with 5 men to about 20 women, 10 of whom appear to be angry lesbian feminists, just doing the work is not going to be enough.

The problem:
According to many feminists I have met, my penis strikes any argument I put forth invalid. Further, it's been brought to my attention on countless occasions that I am a smartass who's not quite sure when to keep his mouth shut. Even though I've been working out a lot so I don't need to keep my mouth shut, that doesn't help in a classroom full of things I can't hit... with my fists.

If only my class was full of this.

My inability to refrain from making a joke once I've seen it will undoubtedly cause my in-class problems. Couple this with the crippling penis, and that's quite a sticky situation. I am going to be repressed in my Women's Studies class. Fortunately, I have spent many hours thinking up solutions to this.

The Solutions:
Plan 1. Seduce everyone. I will enter the classroom in my best Southeast Asian clothing, ensuring I'm wearing a shade of blue somewhere. I will build a foundation with each and every woman in the class, exchange numbers, and be the only man each and every one of them will ever need. I will make offhand comments about how much money I have as I ask them to tell me about themselves. I will show them pictures of my iPod speakers. I will be marriage material. (I should consider using my posh English accent to make this even easier)

I will then arrange a personal meeting with my professor, during which I will make her forget about her husband (if she has one). I will make sure she's aware that I love feminists and feminism and professors.

After I have every female in the classroom in my pocket, I will sustain a system of dating each and every one of them (I will need a lot of money for flowers,dinners, movies, picnics, trips to amusement parks, and chocolate). What this will accomplish is simple, no woman will argue with me in class for fear of ruining our relationship, and my professor will reward me with an A.

OR

Plan 2. Crossdress. I look like a woman in makeup. How I know this is irrelevant. I would have to explain why I was a man last class by complaining about my current identity crisis. I can say I was feeling repressed by men and just wanted a taste of the power. Foolproof, but this plan implies less sex with girls and more sex with men than Plan 1.

OR

Plan 3. Remove my penis. This will ensure my opinions are valid.

While I'm leaning toward the first plan, I haven't come to a final decision yet. The first plan requires a reasonable amount of effort and logistical prowess, but the rewards are substantial. The second plan is easy enough, but lacks the bonuses supplied by the first plan. The third plan is arguably the easiest and instantly overcomes the feminist/man barrier, but I wouldn't have a penis anymore; I like having a penis.

I use it to be this.

And to do this well.

I have some thinking to do. I'd ask for your opinions, readers, but chances are you'll ask me to remove my penis.