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Don’t Stop At Your Television – Throw Away Your Whole Tech Life

Guest Author — Sat, 06 Dec 2008 22:07:40 +0000

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Here’s a little social experiment: Erase your MySpace page. Go ahead, you’re going to have to trust me on this one. And while you’re at it get rid of your Facebook page as well. Right now, I’ll wait. Also delete your LinkedIn profile and take yourself off of Match.com, Friendster, and Classmates.com. Peekyou, Flickr, and Twitter – all gone. Next, walk over to your window, open it up, remove the screen and collect the following items: PS3, XBox, Game Cube, etc. Toss ‘em right out that sucker. Cell phone? iPhone? Google phone? Yup, toss those out the window too. Just for good measure, if you are one of the last few still harboring a landline, might as well detatch that. And finally – this one is going to hurt – haul that television over to the window and let that big guy fly. That’s right, no more cable, no more HBO, no nothing.

DISCLAIMER: RKNet Blog is not responsible for any lost or damaged items resulting from this experiment, or injuries resulting from falling personal items.

So at this point you may be wondering what the purpose of all this is. I assume most of you readers wondered this before you removed your self from all connections between you and your friends, family, and business associates and threw thousands of dollars worth of electronics to the streets below. Well, the reason for this experiment is twofold. First, if I see one more commercial with that smarmy, coy douche bag, Dan Hesse I am going to devote the rest of my life to Durden-esque system-fighting. And two, the everyday life of too many Americans has become so crammed full of distractions that the important things in life are now self-obsessed, masturbatory (side note: “masturbatory” has actually been proven to be the funniest word in the English language, so go ahead and chuckle despite the seriousness of this topic) functions solely aimed at attention whoring or money grubbing.

Certainly one could blame poor parenting for creating generations of fickle minds and self-centeredness, but that’s a whole different conversation with sociological implications I am not currently prepared to address. What I do know however, is that I have watched plenty of television and felt the depraving addiction to lame TV programs. I have participated in social networks and felt the emptiness of wondering what strangers think of me. I have texted people for no reason, drunk dialed, and entertained other desperate attempts at pointless neediness.

“Hey, wait just a second,” you readers may be protesting at this point, “if you have detached yourself from social networks, communications devices and other mind-numbing electronics, what are you doing writing for a blog??” Very good question, dear reader. The unfortunate truth is I cannot do all of these things. (I tried by abandoning television and video games, which was a big step but ultimately trivial when compared to the lot of things I could not remove from my daily life. I also rationalized that ignoring people’s calls was like not having a cell phone, but it’s not.) This is why I need you all to carry out this experiment for me – for all of us.

It is my dream that one day I will be able to disconnect from everyone and from everything. I would urge everyone to at least consider it – if only temporarily, or only just a little. I have even considered moving to places that do not embrace a culture of television, do not have as much accessibility to internet, cable, cell phone towers, etc. Not only is it healthy, but I think it’s the only way to avoid a zombie apocalypse.

In this case I am using the term “zombie apocalypse” to refer to the very real possibility of the world ending at the hands of superficial morons, or as I like to call them, zombies.

There are of course many logical arguments against abandoning such useful devices as telephones, televisions and computers like,

“How am I supposed to communicate with the ones I love?”

“What if something important happens somewhere, I will have no way of knowing.”

“I may be left unprotected during emergencies.”

and other such fit-for-emo-song complaints. Well these are real concerns, but the true pessimist will see the benefit right away. A true realist will come around eventually. And you optimists have fun seeing how many friends you can horde on Facebook while civilization crashes down around you.

My point is that I cut out television from my normal life and felt better immediately – healthier, happier, so on. I also recognize my addiciton to attention through social networks and through cell phones and email, and it makes me feel dirty. I will even go so far as to say that I felt like a more genuine person before I got wrapped up in the tsunami of mass communication that is rapidly forming a global society. Too much staring at screens will drain you physically and obsession over image will drain you mentally, perhaps even change you. That is why I am warning those of you who may share my experiences. Get out now, while you still can.

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Ghetto Dinner Numero Trace

Guest Author — Fri, 14 Nov 2008 15:47:01 +0000

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Yes, you read it right folks. Another Ghetto Dinner Party is upon us, they only come but once a year. When the last leaf of the great Maple tree falls and when it becomes too cold to play whiffle ball, the Great Ghetto Dinner comes forth like a mighty steed. When you get out of work and you’re greeted by cold winter winds and Mr. Night man, and you say “Mr. Night Man, why are you here so early?” Then Mr. Night Man replies “I do what I choose, and I just karate chopped the sun because I hate you”. That’s when the Ghetto Dinner party comes in to rescue you from your woes.

Anyway, this is your OFFICIAL invitation to the best dinner party of the year. In the old days people would have magnificent balls, or masquerades. In our time, this is pretty much the best you’re going to get. The champagne in crystal flutes will be replaced with 40′s in brown paper bags. The gowns and fine suits shall be replaced with ripped jeans and hoodies covered with stains and boot. The feasts of roast beasts and various sorts of gelatins, replaced with spam, raamen, twinkies and various canned goods. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Oh, what’s that? You’re new to the idea of a ghetto dinner party? Well if you aren’t excited about it by the time you reach this sentence, good luck to you on your quest for a better time. Not only will all of what I have mentioned be available to you, but there will be Frank Sinatra involved. You can’t have a classy dinner without ol’ blue eyes. Now onto the details:

What day and what time should I go Kat? Friday, November 21st at 9PM. We shall eat, judge you, find a winner, and get wasted. We will then walk to Trophy’s on a triumphant journey to place the Cup of Broken Dreams atop the highest shelf, in the highest bar in town. Which, of course, is Trophy’s.
Where is it? If you don’t know ask one of your comrades, or just get into their car and wait for them to drive to my house! That will be a fun surprise for you and them! Of course, you can just reply to this email and I will tell you where I live. Too lazy to write my address now.
What do I need to bring? Well, the best and most delicious ghetto food item you can think of! You better bring something good because we will be judging you. If you win, you’ll get a fancy prize!

GUESS WHAT! We have the trophy back in our possession at the South Pine castle. Many of you may remember Lauren won last year and her name was “engraved” on the Cup of Broken Dreams. Who knows? Maybe your name could be next?

OK, I think I went over everything. If you have any questions you can find me in TMT. I’m the girl with the baggy pink sleeves, and the juice on my jeans! That was for Amy, and if you need to be told a description of who I am, then I’m not sure why I invited you in the first place.

Raamenly Yours,

Kat

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Just when I thought we were taking steps forward…

Guest Author — Fri, 05 Sep 2008 18:12:41 +0000

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Call this liberal horse hockey. Call this leftist ideology. Really, you can call it whatever you want, because I don’t give a flying shitcake. If what you get from this post goes anywhere near “anti-American” than you can feel confident that you have severely missed the point and there is a lonely noose in a stuffy room somewhere, looking for a dinner date with you know who.

My hope for this article is for it to be the nailgun-to-the-temple for the chronically confused. Those who think Jason Giambi is an amazing athlete. Those who mistake Irving Kristol for an American Cowboy. Those have never seen a Kohran, a Torah, or a copy of The Bluest Eye. Those who think of Gary Glitter and say, “well… he did have a couple good hits…” These words are for William Donahue, Clarence Thomas, Chris W. Cox, Eliot Spitzer, Dorchen Leidholdt, and the ghost of Isaac Hayes.

“Hey man, leave Black Moses out of it.” Fuck you.

Let me start by saying there are things about John McCain that I really like. He is certainly one of the better representatives from his party. Do I think the forty-fourth old, crusty white-man in a row is what is going to bring change to the White House? No. But is he a decent Republican candidate considering the last couple elections? Yes.

Some people (mostly supporters) have called him a “Maverick.” Let it be known that the only true Mavericks are Mel Gibson and Tom Cruise – and one of them is an undeniable racist, while the other is more out of control than Criss Angel’s ego (and just as creepily homo-erotic). John McCain may have been a Maverick back in his day, but the 1920s are long gone and – while he does maintain some strong attributes – “Maverick” is most certainly a bit of an overstatement.

But this isn’t about John McCain.

This isn’t even really about politics – more about “what the hell are people thinking these days?” What’s that? Get to the damned point, you say? Fine. This post is about McCain’s running mate, Sarah Palin. So let me start my argument off with SARAH PALIN, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?? Have you seen Sarah Palin? Tell me this is a dream. A bad, bad dream. Just when I was starting to think that there may be two interesting Presidential candidates in the upcoming election Father Time from Arizona has an Alzheimer relapse and decides it would be best to pick a retardedly unqualified Governor from a state that many people forget is even part of the damn 50!

If you wanted to win the election by picking a surprise Governor with relatively limited executive experience you should have gone with Arnold. Oh well, John, there is still 2012 – if you’re still alive. I am struggling to understand this move, especially when political analysts and some right-wing pundits are calling it “brave,” “courageous,” and “shit your pants exciting.” I think I have at least enough of a grasp on it to explain why it is a mistake. An unfortunately devastating mistake.

Last week I was engaged in a fly-by interview with a “street team” reporter and subsequently misquoted in a small-circulation newspaper in an article discussing the topic of the GOP vice president hopeful. In my mind this makes me about as qualified to talk about Sarah Palin as Bob Costas is to talk about Olympic trampolining and that didn’t stop him, so buckle up.

Alaska is a beautiful state with many breathtaking natural surroundings and in many cases holds some of the country’s last glimpses into pure wilderness, unspoilt terrain, and incredible wildlife. Alaska is even one the last homes to several endangered and threatened species. Bald Eagle ring a bell? It’s the symbol of our nation.

Did I mention that Sarah Palin wants to drop pipelines and drill into Alaska’s pristine countryside? Well she does.

Let’s pause for a moment to review what we’ve already learned about the potential Vice President. She’s a heartless bitch with zero foresight. More fun facts? Sure thing. Her political career started less than two decades ago, when she was on the city council of Wasilla, Alaska. Oh, haven’t heard of Wasilla? That’s ok, let me reiterate: Less than twenty years ago Palin had very limited weight in trivial decision-making on behalf of less than 5,000 people. How many people are in the U.S.?

In comparison, two decades ago McCain was already representing the entire state of Arizona in the U.S. Senate, commiserating with John Kerry about POW/MIA’s, calling himself a Maverick, and turning 57 years old. So we can tack inexperience on to Palin’s list of incongruence for this gratuitous nomination.

I’m not going to mention that Palin looks like Katey Sagal if she had gone the out of touch, soccer mom, I-only-fuck-when-I-plan-on-popping-out-more-useless-children, Streisand leaves me in stitches, life is swell route, because that would be unfair. I’m also not going to question her personal ethics just because her 17 year old daughter got knocked up by a hillbilly. And furthermore I refuse to suggest that Palin may be slightly if not completely mentally handicapped.

However, I will say this: It’s 2008. I don’t think good change is going to come from someone who’s husband is in the oil business, who supports abstinence education in place of health class (meanwhile her 17 year old is about to dump a “fully supported grandchild” out of her vagina), who opposes gay rights and same-sex marriage, who is in favor of destroying national parks in her home state to drill for oil, who is pro-life and just gave birth to a child with Down Syndrome because she’s an idiot and thinks it’s ok to be reproducing while pushing 45, and is both a creationist and environmentally retarded.

So what do people see in this bitch?

She’s a woman. Yes, that’s all. Sarah Palin was selected by McCain because he wanted people to think that he was a progressive thinker, a political reformer, and yes of course, a Maverick. “Why Palin? There are plenty of decent women in politics.” 1) Palin has yet to fuck anything up on a grand scale (because she has never been in a grand position) and therefore doesn’t foster many haters. 2) It was an impulse purchase, so to speak. Palin was glanced at, McCain’s ancient brain had a fleeting thought of underdog glory, and he went with his gut feeling. Old people are crazy. 3) McCain is about as boring and dry as Fig Newtons. In order to get some attention he needed a face that at least a few people could stand looking at – and unfortunately in the sad state of affairs here in the good ol’ US of A Sara Palin is somehow considered attractive!

Sorry about that last comment. You may take the time now to brush your teeth if you don’t think you can finish this post with the taste of fresh vomit in your mouth. I’m assuming that point of view comes from sexually repressed, aging individuals with very little to live for. Palin isn’t hideous, but she’s certainly not hot either. All opinions aside, is talk of the “America’s hottest governor” really making national news? Give me a fucking break.

Let’s finish up with a little Q&A: Having a woman in office? Fine by me. McCain picking a woman as a running mate? Still all good. Picking a grotesquely unqualified woman with close-minded ideals and too much make-up? No, no, sir. Now you have crossed the line.

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Diner Date, or: Dairy Prom Queen

Guest Author — Sun, 06 May 2007 03:27:14 +0000

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I don’t go out a lot, and wherever I go, there usually aren’t a whole lot of people. Which is why I was horrified that when I went to Dairy Queen last night, I found it to be relatively crowded, mostly with people my own age. To make the whole experience more surreal, they were dressed really strangely.

It turns out it was prom night.

Sometimes, to people who know me fairly well, I’ll say something like “would you believe I never went to prom?” I say this as if this should be surprising. I never went to the 10th grade.

So it’s surreal. But what really bothered me most was, well, who the hell brings their date to Dairy Queen on prom night?

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selling out on day one

Guest Author — Thu, 03 May 2007 16:39:21 +0000

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Do you know what’s awesome? Selling out.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed of having a radio show. I loved radio. Every Christmas I would spend the entire day just listening to old episodes of This American Life. It was my tradition. With the advent of podcasting, I felt that there was finally a medium better than radio. For a short time I even did my own podcast, which was considered awesome, but was actually terrible. But I believed in the medium, I saw that there were a lot of things people were doing with podcasting that people did not do with radio.

So when I decided to try and get a radio show, I thought I would try to create a radio show with all the virtues of podcasting. And that was my plan. Until today. Because my show was greenlighted today. The station I will be on thought my demo was good, but they have a popular show that mixes Japanese and English, and they want me to throw out appropriate Japanese expressions at random times. And they want me to talk about plamo, action figures, and figurines.

Random Japanese expressions. Really. I feel like a whore. But, that’s showbusiness!

- Kento Ikeda, sexy bourgeois.