a passing

A quiet, gentle old man passed away today. I am glad to have known you, old man. You possessed a sublime benevolence to which I can only aspire. You were a great father and husband, and an outstanding influence to your grandchildren.

It's funny and quite amazing that this old man admired the Japanese for their military efficiency and discipline even after what they did to him during the war. His stories were always inspired and inspiring, and I loved listening to them when I was growing up.

Thinking about it, technically, you were family to me only through the marriage of your son to my aunt. Nevertheless, you were always family to me -- blood relation or no. I am nothing like you, but I wish to emulate all the good you have done in your life. I am glad to have known you, old man. I should have spent more time listening to you.

You were a simple man enjoying the simple pleasures in life, but you were never one to indulge. I will pray for you at your funeral today, and I will take comfort in knowing that you don't need my prayers; they will welcome you back with wide open arms in heaven, where you truly belong.

sabbatical

Posting suspended due to such urgent matters as exams, women, and life in general. A door opens and closes, but nothing pushes through. Only the scent of a bygone happiness and a mistaken forecast of sunshine in the near future.

Do not look through the door to see what is on the other side. It will blind you, deceive you, make you think everything is all right. You are looking at the wrong door; this one is merely a portal to the past -- leave it, do not cultivate anything.

The front door, the one that leads you to the future, this is the door through which you must traverse. No matter how barren, how cold, how lonely. It is good for you. God doesn't love you. Stop pretending. There is no cellar door for you to make your escape. Stay tuned; the usual broadcast will resume shortly. We regret any inconvenience caused.

father figure

"I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everybody."
--Bill Cosby

february fourteenth

Fuck Valentine's Day.

There is no such thing as pure love. Love is a blanket concept, to cover up the inadequacy of the human race in distancing itself from animals. Saying "I am falling in love with you, deeper and deeper" can be accurately translated as "I really want to get into your pants, now more than ever."

Love depends, literally, on chemistry. No, no, not the metaphorically poetic kind, but really, literally, on the biochemical pathways of your brain. Love is a chemical reaction in the caudate nucleus and the ventral tegmental area, which store and dispense a type of neurotransmitter called dopamine. That motivation, that exhilaration, that euphoria you feel when newly in love are all caused by dopamine spreading towards its receptors.

Dopamine is energizing, intoxicating, and addictive (why else do you think they call it 'dope-amine'?). Over time, your body builds a tolerance to dopamine, and you begin to need more and more of this chemical to feel the same high you did when you were first madly in love. The same way the body develops a tolerance towards alcohol or nicotine or every other drug you can think of. This is the reason why, over time, passion fades.

People with obsessive-compulsive disorder have the same chemical imbalance as people in love, this time due to the very spectacular neurotransmitter called serotonin. The level of serotonin in the blood of obsessive-compulsives are 40% lower than those in normal people. The exact same 40% deficiency exists in the blood of people who declare themselves as 'presently being in love'.

Hence, it is virtually impossible to tell them apart. People with a mental affliction in the brain exhibit an identical chemical imbalance as people with love in their hearts, putting a new spin to the phrase 'crazy in love'. Couples on the verge of divorce have been known to get enraptured in the throes of passionate love the very instant they stop taking anti-depressants, which suppress serotonin levels in the blood. As one woman succinctly puts it, "I started having orgasms once more, and now we're in love all over again."

The average time for relationships to break up is four years, coincidentally the average time it takes for a child to be physically independent from its parents. Perhaps that is not coincidence after all. Biologically, it allows the male to copulate with other females while ensuring that his hereditary legacy remains safe from harm for as long as he is needed to protect it, but any longer and it would prevent him from spreading his seed.

Question: At what point does a relationship turn from romantic, passionate, physical lust into sedated, level-headed, happily-married companionship? Answer: When oxytocin takes over the role of dopamine in the body. Oxytocin is a powerful hormone that bolsters feelings of attachment and bonding; the clingy and the nostalgically-inclined are overflowing with such hormones.

Prairie voles are animals with high levels of oxytocin in their bodies, which is why they mate monogamously for life. Block their oxytocin receptors, as was done in a study, and these rodents stop forging life-long relationships; choosing instead to mate like every other animal on the planet. Like every other animal, including the pretentiously-sophisticated Man.

Translation? If you meet a person who openly declares a lack of commitment in relationships, then beware: the warning signals are right there in front of you. Stay away. Abandon hope all ye who enter. No good will come out of it -- trust me, I should know. Clingy people may be a nuisance to your everyday life, but think of it this way: they are that much more dependable. A slight headache is preferable to a major heartache. Better the devil who irritates you than the devil who leaves you hanging, to paraphrase an age-old saying. Stability or uncertainty; your choice.

In the end, where does this leave you? Which camp do you belong to? The hopelessly, carelessly trusting in blind love, in love-at-first-sight? Or the carefully, mindfully skeptical in exact science, in medically-proven facts and statistics? You decide. Preferably, cold and detached as it is, I am beginning to fall into the latter category. I choose not to put my life in the grasp of emotion. I choose not to expose myself defenceless in this impulsive, unpredictable, capricious whim called love.

The chances of a relationship continuing is increased when, on the first date, you go on an exhilarating roller coaster ride. Remove a chemical receptor in the brain and, as the song goes, "wherever you lay your hat is your home." How hollow is this thing called love, anyway? How much more emptier can it get? Put all your hopes and dreams on something baseless, something with a non-existent foundation? Something unfounded? Unproven?

Call me bitter, or sad, or depressed, or luckless in love. Doesn't matter; quantifiable, empirical science will back me up all the way. Until proven otherwise, I will stick with it. But hey, that's just me.

PLAYLIST

One Head Light -- The Wallflowers

Meet Me In The Bathroom -- The Strokes

Violent Pornography -- System Of A Down

A Crow Left Of The Murder -- Incubus

Who's Got My Back? -- Creed

*

of such fleeting things

A walk
Down the aisle
Feels a million miles away

A rot
In my brain
Leaves me where I am today

A smile
On the train
Makes my day

A thought
In my head
Takes away

the killing joke

"Hell is other people." -- Jean-Paul Sartre

media whore

I am appearing on TV again tonight. Which is, like, the 8th time or something -- I stopped counting because I take it for granted I'm going to appear on TV again anyway. I can't wait to laugh at myself. People have described me (with envy, at times) as photogenic, but I'm never quite sure when it comes to video. I bet I'd sound great on radio, that's for sure. And it seems like I look gorgeous in photos, as they say. I bet I look ten pounds heavier on television. Ahh, well, just another step on the road to fame and glory.

I can just picture in my mind everyone watching and laughing; I expect them to! There is no greater feeling than being appreciated, and I'm sure the viewers will appreciate me. Do not worship me on the altar of the benign television; I may be the god of romance, but I am not the god of media... yet.

Updated: I don't believe it; they cut out half of what was filmed. Especially the parts where I had something to say! To the point where I almost looked like some mute guy put there just to beautify the scenery. They even cut out the part where I was giving good advice to teenagers, which I was especially proud of! I mean, duh!, good advice was exactly what the producers were looking for in the first place. Maybe I'm just too verbose and intellectual for them; god forbid they should include something mentally-stimulating that might not appeal to the lowest common denominator.

At least I looked good; I did not put on ten pounds in front of the camera! I seemed confident, smart, perhaps a bit too suave, and definitely pleasing to look at, if a little disinterested. I'd rate this one a 7.5 out of 10; more if they had not left out the good parts. At least I make a nice backdrop. And the audience appreciated. Maybe next time.

the great divide

As the rich get richer, we all know what happens to the poor.

The richest 1% of households -- those with incomes above $237,000 for 2003, the latest year analyzed -- owned 57.5% of all income from capital gains, dividends, interest and rents in 2003, the Congressional Budget Office analysis found. That was up from 53.4% the year before and 38.7% in 1991.

Long-term capital gains were taxed at 28% until 1997, and at 20% until 2003, when rates were cut to 15%. The top rate on stock dividends was cut to 15% from 35% that year.

The poorest fifth of Americans owned 0.6% of corporate wealth in 2003, down from 1.4 percent in 1991.

The CBO analysis excludes the stock held in retirement accounts such as 401(k)s and IRAs, which isn’t subject to taxation and was thus unaffected by the tax cuts.

Although these tax cuts are slated to expire in 2008, Congress is already debating whether to extend them through 2010. The Bush administration has been calling for the cuts to be extended or made permanent.

An analysis by the Urban-Brookings Tax Policy Center found that an extension of the tax cuts would save households with incomes under $50,000 about $11 in 2009. Those with incomes above $1 million would save about $32,000.

Read the whole article

first impressions of earth

Am I a prisoner to instincts
Or do my thoughts just live
As free and detached
As boats to the dock?

Just like when music was born
And detached from your heart
Is your free time to free minds
Or for falling apart?

--Ize Of The World, The Strokes

subtracting the abstract

A cute little thing happened today. My baby sister started crying because she got upset. She got upset on account of a ball she got for her birthday. The ball, just one out of the four billion presents she received, is a multi-colored soft toy the size of your palm with an electronic device inside. The electronic device detects pressure, and so every time the ball is squeezed or bounces on the floor it lets out a plaintive mewing -- the kind a dejected, melancholic cat would make.

Upon hearing this, my sister ran in the direction of her father and started bawling real loud. The funny thing is, I saw her playing around with it just a minute ago. But the second I left the room and she was alone with the toy, it must have grown fangs and tried to to bite her head off. My sister just turned seven. Happy birthday, baby girl! Now grow up, will you?

Meanwhile, as I was trying to sound all scholarly and smart by reading up on George P. Lakoff, I realized just how shallow my mind is. Here is a guy who starts linguistic wars because he probably thinks it's fun, and there are not many things in life that a genius with a multi-layered mind would consider fun. And so, between trying to understand the reappraisal of a metaphor and visualize what an embodied mind would look like in my head, I gave up.

I didn't even know what a transformational grammar was, or generative semantics and syntax, or conceptual metaphor, or cognitive psychology and linguistics, or foundation ontologies and empirical validation -- what do these words mean?! What the hell is an empirically responsible philosophy?!! I think it is good to admit when I'm out of my depth, and here I am practically sinking.

I tried to read up on those things too but, really, they're just beyond me. The more effort I made, the less insight I gained. It was giving me a headache, and I'm already having diarrhoea from the worm. I think I'll just play with my guitar, get a good workout done, and maybe watch some television if I have the time. Yeah, that's the way. Shallow minds rejoice!

PLAYLIST

Knife Party -- Deftones

Talk Show On Mute -- Incubus

I Like Dirt -- Red Hot Chili Peppers

Don't Stop Dancing -- Creed

TV Pro -- The Vines

*

fiat lux!

Imagine eating a worm that, unknown to you, was festering in your dinner. Imagine the worm waiting for a warmer place to call home. Imagine that warmer place to call home your stomach. Now imagine, after consuming said worm, the neurons in your brain start linking up faster than you can think.

It gets complicated for awhile. The perikaryons become permeable, starting a chain reaction that allows dendrites and axons to travel at speeds unimaginable through the labyrinthine network of telodendrons in the trilobed structure of the cerebral hemispheres.

But those are just mere details. It is easier to think of it as a one-dimensional printed circuit board, with switches opening and closing, and gates selecting the appropriate functions, the resistors and conductors overloading, and the main body of the programming language being overworked with little or no delay, with data conveyed at 1.3 terahertz per second. Somewhere in there is the smell of plastic burning.

Or to think of it another way, a very complex subway system that goes over and under and sideways while working along its usual routes, carrying more commuters than is permissible under the public transport system regulations code, with said commuters cruising at the speed of thought both backwards and forwards at the same time (perhaps due to some fluke in an area of quantum physics still lodged in the section of "dubious and abstruse").

Imagine -- while all this is happening in your brain -- that the enlarged, saclike portion of the alimentary canal you call the stomach is ingesting aforementioned worm with ever-increasingly rapid contractions of the intestinal fats, drawing all kinds of nutrients previously unbeknownst to man.

Chief amongst this macrobiotic concoction of sustentative nourishment is a mnemonic virus not unlike the straight rod-shaped gram-negative bacillus escherichia coli, found in the human gastrointestinal tract, and more affectionately known as the bacterium that causes 'mad cow disease' by boring holes into brain tissue.

However, unlike the e. coli, this mnemonic virus makes its way to your brain and sets off a dramatic series of events -- producing hematopoietic stem cells that eradicate wear and tear through time and misuse, strengthening channels and connections you thought never existed, creating explosive bursts of energy that swells the amount of blood in your brain twofold, and plugging up whatever holes and leakages that were heretofore latent.

With all this occurring concurrently with a two-punch combination of sleep deprivation and nicotine overload, your mind is bombarded with seismic waves of superlative intelligence and cosmic omniscience. Every aimless dart that your mind throws in the dark hits a bullseye. Every question that you manage to ask gets an answer. Every moment in your life attains an infinite significance on a universal scale.

Imagine, if you will, experiencing epiphany after epiphany of the mind faster than you have the time to reflect upon each one or write them down for future reference. Imagine, in this heightened state of perspicacity, you are able to discern the world through the eyes of every human being on the planet. You feel an aura of celestial space emanating from within and your ears ring with a supreme, transcendental voice of truth from above.

Imagine everything you have done, everything you have felt, everything you have experienced, all melt into a milky white radiance in the very center of your soul. Imagine overcoming every obstacle you will ever face with nonchalant ease, confronting your fears with a cavalier attitude, meeting every hardship that comes your way with eminent grace. In these fleeting moments you have found a panacea for the heart and mind. Now imagine every engram of this specific experience etched in the corners of your mind forever.

The reason why I have described all of the above in detail is because I think I ate that worm. It is now difficult to comprehend what exactly happened, or to explain it in words. The feeling of utter contentment was so complete and so perfect even my thoughts could not invade it. Nothing worried me, and the impression that I got was bliss. I would never have imagined the uncomfortable sensation in the pit of my stomach would lead to that. I would never have thought eating bad food would turn out to be so good.

The physiological repercussions were apparent enough; I am still experiencing the side-effects right now. I am having a bout of constipation, there is a pinched nerve running down my right leg, my ass cheeks (especially the right one) feel like someone slapped them really hard, and if I didn't know better the soreness around my *ahem* sphincter would have led me to believe I had spent a night in jail as the... umm, resident prison bitch. I guess there is always a price to pay for achieving enlightenment. Pop quiz! Should I take two worms, get some rest, and call God in the morning?

PLAYLIST

Needles -- System Of A Down

Bring Me Down -- Kanye West

Where Are You -- Our Lady Peace

The Meaning Of Soul -- Oasis

The Worm -- Audioslave

*

state of the union

Ladies and gentlemen, the state of the union is a mess. Let's make it messier.

[Applause! Applause!]

Thank you. Let's see... first on the agenda: America is addicted to oil. Yee-haw! Hot-diggity-dang, look at the smirk on my face! My vice-president is rich because we are addicted to oil! We're in a war because we are addicted to oil! Your children are dying, our lungs are blackening, the world is choking on pollution; all because we are addicted to oil!

And we're damned proud of our SUVs! We're damned proud of our wasteful attitude! We're damned proud of our soldiers dying for oil! Hell, that is the American Way of Life! Freedom (for ourselves), liberty (for all whom we force it upon), and the pursuit of happiness for oil!

[Applause! Applause!]

But let me pay lip-service to clean, renewable energy. We cannot depend on unstable regions around the world to provide us the energy that our insa-- insta-- insatitia-- insatiable appetite requires. We need to increase spending in our search for sustainable energy sources. Although we are really cutting down on such needlessly excessive spending, my speech writers will make it look like we are actually increasing it! And so I believe we are at the threshold of realizing technologies that will bring about unlimited, renewable, sustainable energy for the future of America. And that is a job for the next President in line. Cheney, baby -- *wink wink* -- I'm looking at you.

[Applause! Applause!]

We will never surrender to evil! Pre-emptive strikes on third world countries is key! We will invade their countries and terrorize their neighborhoods! We will bring the war to their doorstep and open the floodgates of hell so there will be more terrorists for us to shoot at! We will prolong this offensive in Iraq for as long as it is politically-beneficial! Not to mention the oil! We will act boldly in freedom's cause! And we will call it 'Operation: Iraqi Freedom'!

[Applause! Applause!]

We will remain vigilant on the offensive against terrorism at home! We will invade your privacy, we will listen in on your conversations, we will track the websites you visit, and we will do this to whoever the hell we want, whenever the hell we want! If you speak to people of middle-eastern origin, the terrorists have won! If you like pornography, the terrorists have won! It is inevitable. Inevitable! Inevitable!

[Applause! Applause!]

We will confront the rising cost of health care head on! I am fully aware that the revolutionary health care policies introduced throughout the first term of my presidency are in shambles. But who cares?! I will put forth newer, more revolutionary health care policies that will make it affordable to all Americans. Or not. Maybe. I'm not sure anymore. But who cares?! Power to the people!

[Applause! Applause!]

We will build the prosperity of our country by making the tax cuts permanent and increase the spending on war. Budget deficit? What budget deficit? National debt? What national debt? These are conspiracies created by liberal lefties and dog-eat-dog Democrats to undermine the confidence of the American people during this time of crisis... uhh, Crisis? What crisis? There is uncertainty in people's minds right now. People are uncertain even though the union in this country is strong in support of the war. Union? What union? Haha. No, that's not it. War? What war? Haha. Yeah, that's it.

[Laughter! Applause!]

That is a joke, by the way. I haven't seen Brokeback Mountain but I intend to see it next week with my very burly and very manly vice-president, Mr. Dick Cheney. I hear the movie is about ranchers and cowboys, and I ain't ashamed to say that I am a true-blue American Cowboy by any standards. You know that Dick and this Bush are gonna have a hell of a time at the cinemas next week! Heh heh.

[Laughter! Applause!]

I believe human being and fish can co-exist peacefully, and America needs a military where our breast and brightest are proud to serve. And proud to stay. If you are a single mother with two children, which is the toughest job in America as far as I'm concerned, and you're working hard to put food on your family, really the question to ask: are is our children learning?

[Applause! Applause!]

Too many OB-GYNs are unable to practise their... their love with women all across this country. See, I don't think this should be. There is an old saying in Tennessee I know it's in Texas probably in Tennessee that says, "Fool me once... shame on... shame on you... If you fool me you can't get fooled again."

[Applause! Applause!]

Three words are going to determine the outcome of our economic future. Ladies and gentlemen, the three words are: nuk-u-ler. They will shape the civil liberties of our beloved nation, expedite our wholesome political agenda, defeat the enemy, strengthen the foundations of our imperialism, and basically make this country a great place to live in. Hell, I'm tempted to call it the silver bullet. Repeat after me: nuk-u-ler. Nuk-u-ler! Nuk-u-ler!

[Applause! Applause!]

And so, in my state of the...my state of the union our state my speech... to the nation... my speech to the nation. Whatever you wanna call it. My speech to the nation. Err... God bless America!

[Applause! Applause! Standing Ovation! Applause!]

PLAYLIST

The End -- The Doors

Fire Water Burn -- Bloodhound Gang

Born In The USA -- Bruce Springsteen

Attack -- System Of A Down

Bodies -- Drowning Pool

*

suburban hunter-gatherer

Cut down trees into threes. The sharp whistle of the sabre falling under your might just as it hits the thick, hard branch with a loud thwack! gives you a nice feeling of satisfaction, of a job well done. So you do it again and again. The wood will give, soon enough. Your hand hurts and your palm turns blue-black with bruises from repeatedly hitting it against the black handle of the short, heavy, straight-edged knife -- gripped tightly as it is in your fist, the shockwaves come hard and fast as they reverberate through your torso. Every impact is an explosion of pain. Doesn't matter, shrug it off.

You feel sweat from every pore, bullets dripping down your forehead. Never mind, wipe it off. You feel an acute contusion in your spine that will sort itself out by tomorrow. Your lungs are on fire, and so are the triceps in your right arm. But there is a greater fire burning in your eyes. It is a good feeling. Don't stop. Don't think. What must be done, must be done. Focus on your task at hand. Cut down trees into threes. The trunk, you notice, is too wide. Too thick. You need a saw for this.

"Get the saw!"

Slice through the bark and it gets harder from there. The tree is old with layers of tough, impenetrable fibers running through its length. The saw, with its dull orange handle, is rusty and its teeth too small. The fingers of your right hand fit perfectly on the grooves and, brushing off the ache in your arm, you start to work on it. The serrated edge will not eat through the wood quickly; this will take some time. But that is not a problem, this is not a herculean task.

The last stroke does its job and you cannot resist shouting "Tim-berrrr!" when the tree finally crashes to the ground. Perfect. The heck with it, use your bare hands to snap the branches. Faster that way -- break them by grabbing one end and stamping on the middle for leverage. Push forward and they snap like twigs. Perfect.

Under the oppressive, sweltering sun you find a forgotten and primitive world of your own. You find your freedom. No quantum mechanics involved, no engineering mathematics in this, no experience in a technical field required. No complications in the human relations kind of thing. This is you doing pure, physical work. It is a good feeling. Just demolish a tree until there is no tree, leaving only tiny little fragments of wood. This you do until you can feel needle-like splinters under your skin. No worries, you can deal with that later.

You pick up the pieces and gather them in a bunch. Jump over the balustrade and carry them back to the house for later. For the fire. Right now, another task lies ahead of you. This one is covered with thorns but what must be done, must be done. You bring along your tools of trade to cut down the next tree.

In your eagerness, without looking, you swing yourself over the concrete fence and land in a nest of broken branches. Instantly a sharp, distinctive pain shoots up your leg. You don't have time to wonder what just happened when you realize... this one is covered with thorns. You see something resembling a long, broken matchstick with the head detached stuck in the ball of your right foot and you start tugging at it. You grit your teeth because you're hurting your foot even more and still it won't budge; it must be embedded deep inside.

You can almost hear a pop! sound when, with one swift pull, it comes off. A large thorn, two-inches long, caked in blood. Revenge Of The Trees. Fair enough. You'll be walking with an awkward gait for the next two days, but that doesn't concern you now. What must be done, must be done. When you're finished with it, you collect the detritus and carefully drop them into the now-large pile of deadwood.

Two full-grown trees in twenty minutes, all practically pulp now. Not bad, you tell yourself. Twenty minutes. A job well done, considering you had just finished two packs of cigarettes in two days. It shows you still have the stamina. You still have enough energy to balance yourself on the balustrade and, leaning against the jackfruit tree, cut off two ripe ones. Your heart is pumping battery acid to your veins quicker than usual, but that is a minor detail.

You let them light up the bonfire as you stand to one side and watch. Firewood to burn and simultaneously drive off the infestation of black beetles with their large, compacted heads from the coconut tree in the garden. The fire in front of you reflects the fire in your eyes, and when it is big enough you lift a branch with smoldering leaves and let the smoke drift to the upper reaches of the coconut tree. As the flames lick hungrily, the beetles fall like sizzling black rain.

Somehow this reminds you of the time when you were holding steadfast to the front legs of a lamb, waiting for it to be slaughtered. Impervious to the pitiful bleating of the quadruped mammal -- which was held prostate and immobile by six human arms -- the man with the blade sliced its neck in a few effective strokes, killing it almost immediately. You had watched with a grim expression on your face as the blood gushed out from the gaping hole and splattered all over his clothes; you were feeling sorry for the animal. The man only winced, and only once, and only from the stench, when the carcass was hung upside down to be skinned and the contents of its intestines fell out.

It is getting dark now that the sun is setting. You can see the flickering, dancing shadows of the people around you cast large and wide on the wall from the flames of the dying bonfire. But the fire in your eyes remains and, hopefully, will remain until your dying days. As you stoke the glowing embers, in the gathering dark, you now wish somehow the man with the blade had been you. No regrets. No fear. No remorse. It is a good feeling.

PLAYLIST

Man Machine -- Robbie Williams

Where Is My Mind? -- The Pixies

Stealing Society -- System Of A Down

O Green World -- Gorillaz

Twisted Logic -- Coldplay

*

19 New Words For 2006

Consider these essential vocabulary additions for the workplace (and elsewhere).

1. BLAMESTORMING: Sitting around in a group, discussing why a deadline was missed or a project failed, and who was responsible.

2. SEAGULL MANAGER: A manager, who flies in, makes a lot of noise, craps on everything, and then leaves.

3. ASSMOSIS: The process by which some people seem to absorb success and advancement by kissing up to the boss rather than working hard.

4. SALMON DAY: The experience of spending an entire day swimming upstream only to get screwed and die in the end.

5. CUBE FARM: An office filled with cubicles.

6. PRAIRIE DOGGING: When someone yells or drops something loudly in a cube farm, and people's heads pop up over the walls to see what's going on.

7. MOUSE POTATO: The on-line, wired generation's answer to the couch potato.

8. SITCOMs: Single Income, Two Children, Oppressive Mortgage. It's what yuppies turn into when they have children and one of them stops working to stay home with the kids.

9. STRESS PUPPY: A person who seems to thrive on being stressed out and whiny.

10. SWIPEOUT: An ATM or credit card that has been rendered useless because the magnetic strip is worn away from extensive use.

11. XEROX SUBSIDY: Euphemism for swiping free photocopies from one's workplace.

12. IRRITAINMENT: Entertainment and media spectacles that are annoying but you find yourself unable to stop watching them. The J-Lo and Ben wedding (or not) was a prime example - Michael Jackson, another.

13. PERCUSSIVE MAINTENANCE: The fine art of whacking the crap out of an electronic device to get it to work again.

14. ADMINISPHERE: The rarefied organizational layers beginning just above the rank and file. Decisions that fall from the adminisphere are often profoundly inappropriate or irrelevant to the problems they were designed to solve.

15. 404: Someone who's clueless. From the World Wide Web error message "404 Not Found," meaning that the requested site could not be located.

16. GENERICA: Features of the American landscape that are exactly the same no matter where one is, such as fast food joints, strip malls, and subdivisions.

17. OHNOSECOND: That minuscule fraction of time in which you realize that you've just made a BIG mistake. (Like after hitting SEND on an email by mistake)

18. WOOFS: Well-Off Older Folks.

19. CROP DUSTING: Surreptitiously passing gas while passing through a Cube Farm.

* * * * *

Found on the Internet,
January 19, 2006, 4:28 A.M.