Many of my loyal readers (and if there is need for clarification, that would be you) may be under the impression that I was not amongst the dozens of worldwide supporters of Earth Day. Many of you may think that I wouldn’t be a friend of the eco-freaks and cowardly corporate sycophants that are primarily responsible for foisting this made up guilt-fest on the world due, in no small part, to things I have said in my blog about how these DANG ECO-FREAKS AND COWARDLY CORPORATE SYCOPHANTS ARE PRIMARILY RESPONSIBLE FOR FOISTING THIS MADE UP GUILT-FEST ON THE WORLD! LISTEN YOU FREAKIN’ TREE HUGGERS, IF I WANT TO EAT ME A PANDA STEAK THAT IS MY BUSINESS AND NONE OF YOURS, YOU NUMSKULLS! AND SOMETIMES THE ONLY EASY WAY TO GET RID A BUNCH OF USED UP ENGINE OIL IS TO POUR IT OUT AT THE PARK! SO BACK OFF!
Excuse me. Sorry about that. Kinda hoarse now…
And all that is true. Man I hate those… Nevermind. Gonna stay calm. No need to raise my blood pressure. Don’t want to have to give up my Popeye’s. But I do like the one main idea that Earth Day, also known as “Feel Guilty Over Living In A Material Improved Society” Day, brainwashes into its unsuspecting victims, the idea that we should be right stingy and not waste a thing.
Some of my loyal readers (and, again, that would be you, you pea wit! I swear, can’t you remember something I just wrote not but a paragraph ago?) might now contest that I have thoroughly lost my marbles. They might well say, “Bob, thou varlet, design’st thou that we, thine own fellow citizens and kinsmen, be as yon foul, tyrannical, lice-ridden busybodies wouldst have us be, impoverished and deprived of our own property and succor so that the baseless guilt of others might be comforted at the expense of us and our progeny?”
To which I would reply, “Of course not, ya nut!”
Of course the point of frugality the Earth Day organizers are in favor of is just to teach the wealthy a lesson and make the wicked, uncaring, unfeeling, wealthy (and that’d be you again) as poor as any baboon. That is why they go on and on about recycling and other such nonsense that is designed solely to soothe their consciences at the price of effectively using resources and stifling useful activity.
On the other hand, I just want to end waste and teach people to squeeze every last bit of profitability from whatever they can and not to leave anything behind whether it be out of generosity, open-handedness, or a simple minded trust in God to provide. Also it would be nice to once again have an impoverished peasant class to exploit like slaves and to make my wealth seem even more blasphemous.
To that end if I had the wealth of Bill Gates I would seek to make every day Earth Day!
Now I don’t have the time or space to explain how I would use the power of untold wealth and the principles of Earth Day to grind my enemies to dust. But you (that’d be my loyal readers) will be able to read all about it next week. That is, so long as you fall for this obvious attempt to force you to develop the habit of reading this blog.

-Bob

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Thanks to the popular trend of alarmist, panic inducing, emotional reaction inciting journalism that has become the standard for any discussion of current events, I am allowed, as you my loyal readers know, to give full vent to any fears, concerns, discomforts, or outrages caused by anything that strikes me as being different, unusual, or in anyway threatening. This is a great boon to me, for without serious journalists freaking out over whether birth weight is related to the development of leukemia or what the loss of sea-grass will do to the world I would never feel free to declare the need for the public to take radical steps to change a situation that few other people have ever even noticed. Indeed, if not for the constant panic that our news agencies attempt to keep the general public in I would be too wary of demanding that you, my loyal readers, join me in creating fake art.
And that is exactly what I am demanding of you, my loyal readers, that you immediately set about creating fake art.
For you see, dear reader, we are being inundated with a plague as dire as any other plague that has faced us since the loss of our vital sea-grass, the plague of the artist.
That is right my friends. We have too many artists. And they are wrecking lives, the economy, and art itself.
Somehow over the last thirty odd years or so a massive portion of our population has become convinced that they have a creative vision. And that is nonsense.
While this is a nonsense that people in previous generations may have believed at one point or another in their lives, they recognized that the proper outlet for their delusions of creativity was in the appreciation of what real artists could do or in small creative efforts that could be hidden away from public view.
But now we are nearly being swept under with all manner of people who are self-described artists, thinkers, and idea-men, people who are in reality merely desperate to prove to themselves that they are something special and have something that is worthwhile to share with other people.
These folks are found all the time now putting up art shows that are practically indistinguishable from each other with every piece they produce looking like a piece of garbage that Jackson Pollock threw up on. You see them all the time, carrying their sketchpads in their messenger bags, wearing their “Che” t-shirts (like Che Guevara wouldn’t shoot the freaking hippies in disgust at their bourgeois background) and everyone of them thinks that what they are creating is ART!
Well I say bullcrap! Just because you have a beret, a tattoo of a barcode, a scooter, a job that pays nothing, an organic hemp thong, and a gallery at a pizza parlor doesn’t mean that you are an artist!
Unfortunately the liberal arts college education that most of these “I’m a graphic designer but what I really am about is using photography to capture the language of the trees” types have had prevents them from realizing that the sheer level of suck proves that what they produce is not art. It is almost impossible to prove to those kinds of people that “the idea” is not enough to justify them satisfying their creative impulses, but rather that they need to learn how to freakin’ do what they are doing right!
And it is time that we, the not creative, prove it to them.
If we, the regular people of the world, gathered together and began to produce “art” (and it doesn’t matter what kind of art) and pretended that what we were doing really was art (even though we know that it isn’t) and began to demand space in galleries for our watercolors of kittens and flowers and sculptures of people we knew in high school then perhaps when everyone is unable to distinguish between our poorly conceived and hastily executed trash and the “art” of the wannabees, then maybe some of those darn fools will leave behind their jobs as baristas and get a job welding pieces of metal into something useful.
But it will take you, dear reader, actually putting pencil to paper and drawing what you think Superman would look like as a priest, or beating a trash can with a rock, or performing a song about the injustices of the PTA to a coffee shop of hipsters to make that worthless sack of pretentious culture droppings with the dreds to stop working on his screenplay and get that job as an accountant.
Don’t let me down.

-Bob

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-Slayer is not Death Metal. It is Thrash Metal.  Why is this so freaking hard people!?!

-Hippies aren’t so bad. They are the spoiled children of the middle class and the rich and are just going through a phase. They are going to be successful anyways. So why begrudge them a self-imposed delayed start on life?  Their stupidity only helps those of us whom the Man is trying to keep down with his psychic profiling and random police stops.

-Pie is so freaking awesome. It is so awesome that I have now won arguments with but one word, “Pie.”

-I had to vacuum a clean brick wall this week. Don’t ask. Just don’t.  But that, surprisingly, is not terribly depressing.  Thing is vacuuming a clean brick wall, while pointless, is far less demanding and stressful than vacuuming carpet.  Probably because it is pointless.  And the fact that something is only stress free because it is a futile waste of time is depressing.

-A bunch, and I mean a WHOLE LOT OF A BUNCH, of lady types did a bikini march for breast cancer awareness in South Africa.  While I readily approve of the march both because it promotes stopping cancer and, even more, promotes where cancer can go, I still don’t get it.  I am glad to finally see an “awareness raising event” that was actually related to something that it was trying to make people aware of.  But what the heck do they mean by “raise awareness”?! What does that mean? And how does raising awareness do anything? Sure now more people know more about breast cancer (really now more people know more about where breast cancer lives) and I know that knowing is half the battle but big whup!  Shouldn’t they be raising money for research or something?  And if that is what is going on then why don’t they say it!

-Why aren’t there ever peasants at a Renaissance Fair? There should be tons of them! And a few traders, 15 priests, a handful of knights, like 3 lords, and 1 king. That’d be right.  Instead there are like 38 pirates, 4 kings, 5-8 overweight belly dancers, 20 or more highlanders, and more lords and ladies than you could shake a stick at.  For people who think they love post-Roman European society Ren Faire folks don’t seem to care about what post-Roman European society was actually like.  The dunderheads.

-Dude.  I really want some pie!

-So the Metal Monk is retiring.  That sucks.  But he is right.  Metal is the best way to spread the Gospel!  In case you hadn’t seen it yet:

-So it looks like Venezuela isn’t letting an international financial crisis get in the way of plastic surgery. Guess they are willing to admit that, like every other human, they are obsessed with their appearance.  Good for them!  Keep winning those Miss Universe titles I say!  But it makes me worry.  If everybody in Venezuela can freely use plastic surgery to look beautiful then pretty soon us beautiful types might start to intermingle with the uglies without our knowledge.  In short order the beautiful people will be completely wiped out by fake beautiful people.  Then everyone will always have to go to plastic surgeons all the time!  The plastic surgeons will have a nation completely under their control and perpetual domination!

Genius.

-Bob

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