If you’ve ever listened to Rage Against the Machine while being stuck in traffic, you know what it feels like to be filled with fury and ready to stick it to the man. Protesting is your chance to exercise your inalienable right of man sticktoitiveness and fight back against inequality and hatred. However, sometimes when you stick the man, the man sticks back.Protesting police brutality is a little like protesting a tiger mauling by walking up to the tiger and screaming in its face while bopping it on the head with a rolled up newspaper. You wouldn’t do the latter without checking in with Joe Exotic and you shouldn’t do the former without reading this handy field survival guide to help get you through any protest.
1. Strength in Numbers
Like the bold gazelle, stay in herds to avoid police brutality.
No, wait… That didn’t work.
2. Maybe Split Off From the Crowd
No, that didn’t work either…
3. Maybe Just Stand With Your Hands Up?
Nope. Not that one.
4. Just Standing On Your Porch Should Be Fine, Right?
Shit…
5. Try Being a Member of the Press. 1st Amendment and All. The Police Won’t Attack a Reporter.
Sigh…
6. Okay… But What If You’re a Politician, Like a State Senator. Then You’re Totally Fine.
…
7. Okay. Screw Protesting. Just Mind Your Own Business. Go Grab Some Groceries and Head Home.
……………
8. I Got It!! Be White!!!
When you’re white, they let you do it. You can do anything. Grab ’em by the statehouse. You can do anything.
America was built on protest. Of our most fundamental rights is the right to peacefully assemble, the right to look tyranny and oppression directly in the eye. What is the right way to fight oppression? Is it kneeling during a football game? Is it boycotting a business? Is it marching? Is it vandalism or riots? If you’re a child bullied at school, you’re told one of three things: 1) Just ignore it, they’ll leave you alone, 2) Tell a teacher and they’ll get them to stop. 3) Fight back. One never works. Lions don’t lose interest in the weakest of prey, in the marginalized, in the downtrodden. Two doesn’t work. No real change occurs. Three doesn’t work. You get suspended, arrested, and hit even harder. How do you stop a bully? How do we create reform? You get pushed over and over again and no one listens; you push back and everyone calls you a thug. Don’t give up hope. Keep standing tall. Demand to be noticed. Film everything. And above all else, work to create a dialogue. Tell your story. Times like these need leaders. People like Dr. King who will stand up and speak elegantly and passionately against brutality and violence. And times like these also need people who won’t give up their seat on a bus, who won’t stand for tyranny and oppression any longer. Just don’t lose hope. Hope in change and hope in humanity. Businesses used to be “Whites Only”. But times can change, societies can change, and, most importantly, people can change. As much as you may hate them, as much as you may think they are stubborn fools, never forget that people can change. Maybe not in an instant, maybe not in a year, maybe not even in a generation, but people can change. Go out and be that change.
Descartes once weathered an existential crisis. He boiled his very existence down to the simple phrase, “I think, therefore I am.” When the world around you is crumbling and the very founding principles you live your life on are no more, how can you be sure of anything? Descartes’s answer: “Well, at least I exist, I guess… That’s worth something, right?” While philosophers have scraped together the morsels and scraps of life, pondered the greatness and depravities of man, and asked questions like what if life as we know it is just shadows bouncing on a cave wall, none have been brave or foolhardy enough to tackle this one question. A question so simple and yet so complex. A question that throws existence itself into a dryer on high and leaves you left with nothing but missing socks and a clogged lint trap. A question that will drive a man mad….
Is A Hotdog A Sandwich?
No. Right? I mean, obviously. A hotdog is a hotdog. It’s a sleeve of mystery meat shoved on a bun that represents a celebration of life and freedom if grilled on the 4th of July or the depths of depression itself if eaten on a slice of bread because you’re out of buns while alone mindlessly flipping through Netflix at 9:37 on a Saturday night. The two ends of the hotdog spectrum. One, that delicious first bite, the other, that weird bite at the end that’s just bread and a little bit of ketchup. A hotdog is a hotdog. Plain and simple (unless you’re in Chicago, where hotdogs are neither plain nor simple).
The sweatpants of the hotdog world
And a sandwich is a sandwich. It’s meat and cheese sandwiched between two slices of bread. The heart of the sandwich is in the sandwiching of the meat and the cheese. Without the sandwiching, do you really even have a sandwich? But, a panini is meat and cheese sandwiched between two pieces of bread. Actually a panini is a pressed sandwiched, an extra sandwiched sandwich. It’s more sandwich than a sandwich could ever hope to be. And, is a panini a sandwich? It’s the überwich. If Superman were a sandwich, he’d be a panini. But you’d think Superman would be a hotdog as both represent truth, justice, and the American way. Both also have a secret identity and come from places unknown.
The hero we all deserve
So, a panini’s a sandwich. The kind of sandwich that gets to work early and stays late and makes everyone else in the company look bad. The panini’s the reason turkey on rye didn’t get that promotion and bologna only got a 2% raise. Freakin paninis, man… Some people have even had the audacity to try and class up the bottom feeder of the sandwich world and She’s All That the grilled cheese sandwich up to prom queen by combining it with the Freddie Prinze Jr. that is the panini. Proving that the sandwich doesn’t even require meat to be able to sandwich. You can sandwich vegetarian style. The peanut butter and jelly sandwich goes a step further and bucks the meat and cheese thing all together, swapping them out for pulverized peanuts and some sort of fruit that really only exists to make people wonder what the hell is the difference between jam, jelly, preserves, and marmalade anyways? A sandwich doesn’t even need meat or cheese to be a sandwich. Don’t believe me? I’ve got three words for you: ice cream sandwich. I win.
The Frozen Sandwich. Made with a sticky crust so you can never really Let It Go.
So a sandwich can exist agnostic of its contents. Anything sandwiched is a sandwich, wether it’s nuts and fruit (PB&J is obviously just a paleo friendly sandwich), or a tube of mystery meat (bologna has entered the chat). But the sandwiching still prevails.
That is until, up from the depths rises the submarine sandwich. Known affectionately by many names depending on where you live, the sub, the hero, the hoagie, or, for the Floridians, the Pub-sub. It’s a split roll with meat and cheese shoved inside of it. Some sandwiching still occurs, but just like in the Robin Thicke song about unwanted sexual advances that should be way more ashamed of itself than “Baby It’s Cold Outside” because it came out in 2013, the lines have become blurred as to the extent of the sandwiching that has to take place. No longer do you need two distinct slices of bread. You simply need one piece of bread that’s been King Solomoned right down the middle and filled with whatever meat and veggies that have been sitting out for 6 hours by a college dropout who technically proved his parents wrong because he actually is an artist, even if it’s just sandwich artist.
Obviously made by sandwich Picasso
A split roll with meat shoved in the middle? Yup, that’s a hotdog. And also probably a sex euphemism… A hot dog is a sandwich. As is bratwurst, sausage, french dip, hamburgers, Filet-O-Fish, the McRib, a Big Mac is just a sandwich with another sandwich inside of it, even a taco is a sandwich, right? A slice of flour (bread) with meat and cheese inside? Yup. Sandwich. And what’s a quesadilla but Mexican grilled cheese? The Oreo? Tiny sandwiches. Even if you twist the Oreo in half and lick out the filling like some kind of animal, still a sandwich, because…
A sandwich doesn’t even need to be sandwiched!
The old school record scratch. Which is also kind of old school.
Enter the open-faced sandwich. Enter dramatically. Like in an old western saloon where the swinging doors are slammed open and the entire bar falls silent and the piano player stops ragtiming. Would you deny the sandwichhood of the open-faced sandwich? The open-faced sandwich is part of the sandwich family. It’s not even a second cousin in the sandwich family where people in West Virginia could argue “I mean, are they really related?” It’s in the direct lineage of the sandwich. Sandwich royalty is in its blood. It’s the Duke of Cornwall of sandwiches. The open-faced sandwich is a sandwich, its toppings stacked on its head like a crown.
Prince Charles? The open-faced king of England
Then what is pizza except for an open-faced, baked, Italian-style sandwich? Avocado toast? Sandwich. Pancakes? Open-faced PB&J replaced with syrup and butter. Lasagna? Sandwich. Easy. Meaning, spaghetti? Open-faced lasagna. Sandwich. Macaroni & Cheese? Inverted, open-faced grilled cheese sandwich. Apple pie? Sandwich. Burrito? Sandwich.
Golden Corral? All-You-Cn-Eat Build-Your-Own Sandwich Bar
But it gets deeper. Ever order a protein style burger from In-N-Out? Sandwich with lettuce instead of bread. You don’t even need bread! Meaning salad? Open-faced protein style sandwich. Chicken and rice? Open-faced rice sandwich. Beans and rice? Vegetarian open-faced rice sandwich. Or what about the KFC Double Down sandwich? A meat-sandwiched sandwich. The Luther Burger? Donut-sandwiched sandwich. Chicken nuggets? Oh, you mean chicken encased in deep fried bread? Sandwich. Omelet? Egg-sandwiched sandwich. Boiled egg? Egg white-sandwiched egg yolk. Sandwich. It’s all sandwiches! Earth? Magma and iron sandwich. Atoms? Electron sandwiches. God? Sounds like a Father, Son, and Holy Spirit sandwich. Life as we know it? A blip in time sandwiched on both ends by the dark unknown.
Nothing beats the rustic wholesomeness of the great outdoors—except possibly air conditioning and not having to skin and gut your own food. Getting in touch with your primal side and sitting around a campfire arguing about the best way to toast a marshmallow even though everyone knows s’more Pop-Tarts are way better than the real thing is not without its dangers, however. You’re surrounded by woods full of bears, bugs, and people high on shrooms hoping you’ll join their drum circle and you never know when maybe you should’ve let the call of the wild go to voicemail. If it’s really important, wild will just text you. Stay safe with these tips guaranteed to help you survive a night under the stars.
Don’t harsh his vibe, man
1. Take a Picture
A picture is worth a thousand words. But a picture taken while camping could be worth six very important words: “Holy sh*t we’re all gonna die!” The problem with cameras today is you’ll never spot the true dangers waiting to pounce with digital technology. You’ve got to get into the camping mindset and think primitive. Only a polaroid will work here. Snap a pick of all your friends, shake it like a relentlessly cheery Outkast song about divorce, and look closely at what develops. If any of your mates’ faces come out blurry or smudged or you notice a bloody ram’s skull in the background, for the love all all that is holy, run. Those are both surefire signs you’re about to get got by a Blair Witch. Found footage docudramas are the worst. Don’t let that be how you’re remembered.
The deadliest of Snapchat filters
2. Pen and Paper
Whether your friend passed out first at a party or you’re trying to give a guy at a bar a fake phone number in hopes he’ll leave you alone, you just never seem to have a pen handy when you need one. The same goes for survival situations. Too often people have fell victim to the embarrassment of having to debase themselves with the undignified act of smearing a message onto a wall using their own blood before they fall victim to the Slenderman who’s hot on their heels. Like a true Spartan, die with honor and leave a clear, easy to read, collated message for whatever group of teens comes along 30 years later to solve the mystery of the Hudson Valley Murders. Keeping a pen and notepad at the ready will increase your messaging speed when it matters most. Remember, you won’t have cell service or your phone will have died because horror movies in the 21st century can’t happen without either of those prerequisites, so, once again, think primitive, save time, and save a life with a handy “how to not get Slendered” note for all your friends. Bonus: pen and paper for the whole group comes with an added survival hack. If you notice any of your friends endlessly drawing a darker and darker circle or their paper is full of stick figures hanging from gallows but not accompanied by blank spaces and crossed out letters, you know it might be best to fake a stomach ache and head home.
J. Walter Weatherman: Survival Expert
3. A Mirror
If you’re thinking a mirror is simply a great hack for starting a fire in a pinch by reflecting sunlight, then hopefully you’re also using that mirror to make sure your eyebrows are on fleek for your funeral because outdoor survival is all about seeing beyond the clear and evident and being clever with the tools you’re given. You’re currently voluntarily sleeping outside in a place not even an Amazon Prime delivery drone could get to in two days or less, like the Fresh Prince, your life got flipped turned upside down. And when you’re dealing with strange things from the upside down, you’ve got to be able to see things from their perspective. There’s a reason Satan only leaves messages in records when you play them backwards. In a world that’s flipped, you need a mirror to see straight. How else will you know that redrum backwards is murder? That’s why breaking a mirror is bad luck. Without a mirror, your chance of survival decreases sevenfold. Plus, if you come across a stranger, check to see if they’ve got a reflection. If not, they’re a soulless creature from the great beyond and you’re about to be too if you don’t cheese it out of there.
Winona Ryder cares about two things: Will Byers, and stealing sweaters from Saks Fifth Avenue. You aren’t either
4. Your Passport
Dangers lurk everywhere when you’re roughing it and a passport is going to do much more than just help the coroner identify your corpse, especially since dental records are unreliable in a world without universal healthcare. Much like after winning the lottery, you never know what kind of foul beasts will come pouring out of the woodwork. If you ever find you’ve got a Sasquatch trailing you in hot pursuit, your best bet is to head south. Big Foot can’t follow you into Mexico. It’s out of his jurisdiction. That’s Chupacabra’s territory.
Chupacabra means what? I thought only the Scottish did that…
5. Life Straw
The original ultralight backpack and travel-friendly “straw” filter, the LifeStraw makes contaminated water safe to drink by removing bacteria and parasites, preventing the majority of waterborne disease. Use it to drink directly from streams and lakes, or fill up a container and use your LifeStraw to enjoy clean water on the go. The LifeStraw has unlimited shelf life and once opened can provide an individual with more than 5 years of safe drinking water.
Because we can’t all be goat suckers.
6. Your Grandma’s Sweater
A sweater is one of nature’s greatest survival tools. It protects from sun, cold, minor scrapes and cuts, and it looks great tied around your waist if you accidentally stumble into the background of an episode of Saved By the Bell. But it’s not just the warmth of this hand-knitted jumper that’s going to keep you safe. It turns out, monsters and strippers have more in common than only coming out at night and leaving you crying in a corner wondering how your life got to this point. They’ve also got mommy issues. Jason Voorhees was once stopped in his tracks by a blue knit sweater. If you really want to stay safe, raid your mom’s closet and throw on her lucky bingo tournament sweater and a pair of mom jeans. These accoutrements not only keep the forces of evil at bay, but they also act as great repellent for guys flirting with you in the canned vegetables aisle at the grocery store.
The only thing it won’t stop is Krampus
7. A Door
Everyone knows vampires only have two true weaknesses: doors and middle-aged women writing fan fiction about them. Hopefully you don’t have the latter with you on your backpacking outing, and if you do, may God have mercy on your soul. You may want to belay these hot camping tips and just embrace the sweet release of death. Barring that you’re not stuck with bargain bin Anne Rice on your side, your efforts are best left focusing on the vampire weakness of door. Everyone knows a vampire has to knock first and be invited into a home. They’re like the Jehovah’s Witnesses of the underworld. (Update: After extensive research, our team has discovered that, in fact, Jehovah’s Witnesses are the Jehovah’s Witnesses of the underworld. We apologize for the confusion.) The problem is, Count Knockula’s rule doesn’t apply to that flimsy little tent flap and zipper that’s the only thing protecting you from the elements. This loophole could lead too many neck holes. Be a modern day Van Helsing or Abraham Lincoln and drive a stake or split a rail right through the heart of their plans. While you’re installing your door, you may also want to think about surrounding it with some walls for extra fortification. And throw a roof on there, too, to help keep out the rain and not give free reign to any alien tractor beams. And to really maximize your safety, think about moving this fortification from the woods to a more populated area, like maybe a gated community on the outskirts of a large city in close proximity to a Target. And hook it up to an electrical grid while you’re at it. Now just add two cars and two kids and you’ve achieved the American dream: crippling debt. The slow killer.
There is no GPS in life that will tell you in a pleasant British accent to make a U-Turn. Often you only discover you took a wrong turn at Albuquerque after you’ve already plummeted head long into a lake. Use this helpful survival guide to recognize the signs that will keep you on the straight and narrow and off the highway to hell.
1. Do Not Enter
A surefire sign that lets you know you’re headed onto an off ramp and about to be playing a high speed game of chicken. What makes this sign difficult is it makes you read three seperate words, while driving, at speed, into oncoming traffic. You’re already in trouble and now someone handed you a book to read. Not cool, sign. Instead, remember this helpful trick: red = for the love of God, please stop; something the Washington Redskins will never seem to figure out. If you see a red sign, just imagine a coral snake, Darth Vader’s lightsaber, or Rick Astley’s hair and turn around and run as fast as you can in the opposite direction.
It’s time to give you up and let you down.
2. Bridge Out
Thankfully, this sign has 33% less words than a Do Not Enter sign. However, these signs can be red, orange, yellow, black or white, just like the little children of the world that Jesus loves, meaning you’re forced to actually read this time. This sign means ahead of you the road will stop abruptly before a body of water or chasm that you will Wile E. Coyote your way off of if you don’t turn back. You may see this sign and see visions of glory stampede through your head and feel the temptation well up inside of you to ramp off of this bridge into the great unknown, so now is a good time to remind you that you’re not the physics-defying blockbuster duo of Sandra Bullock driving a bus while being cheered on by Keanu Reeves and you never will be, so don’t risk it.
Physics: “Hold my beer.”
3. Gary, Indiana
Your car has enough gas to make it to the next exit. Trust me.
4. Beware of Dog
Most dogs like pets on the head and scritches behind the ear. These dogs will only let you pet them on the inside of their mouths. It’s advised to also not trust and give a wide berth to anyone who owns a cat.
5. Beware of Owner
The likelihood that this person will actually shoot you provided you’re not not caucasian is pretty slim. But they will try to talk to you about Fox News, how abolishing the estate tax will actually help low income families stop milking the welfare system, and at least once they’ll use the phrase “I’m not racist, but…” followed by something super racist, like how the name Washington Redskins actually empowers Indians.
6. Kansas River Crossing
Friends don’t let friends ford the river. Look around. Take a ferry. Build a bridge. Find a raft. Give up on your hopes and dreams and just settle there like everyone else who’s ever lived in Kansas. Just never ever attempt to ford the river.
7. Subway
Repeat after me, “You’re not that hungry.” A foot of depression on a bun for $5 is not a good deal. You’re better than this. You’ll turn it around. I believe in you. Don’t make a decision that’s only going to hurt you more in the end. She wasn’t right for you anyways. You’re better off without her. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea. And most of them can be found in Subway’s tuna salad. Honestly, you may be better off eating food you’ve found on the ground in an actual subway. If video games have taught the world anything, food you find laying on the ground and in trash cans restores health and stops bullet wounds from getting septic.
Giraffes are what happens when evolution takes a wrong turn and is too afraid to pull over and ask for directions. I get it; brontosauruses were cool, but this is just a cheap remake living off of nostalgia not nearly capturing the imagination and wonderment of the original and proving earth is completely out of fresh ideas. Let’s face it, Alan Grant isn’t rocking up to a tower of giraffes in 28 billion years and gazing in wonderment at their majestic beauty.
When Chaos Theory goes wrong.
This is the story of a lowly camel who gazed up at the tree tops like they were top shelf whiskey and thought, “The grass is always greener when you’re not eating grass.” Many animals before it have been seduced by the green side and made the switch to an all tree diet. Pandas were once actual, Revenant style, rip-your-face-off bears that decided to adopt a life of pacifism, grow a thumb and roll around munching bamboo while not mating. One day a wombat climbed into a eucalyptus tree, became a koala, and started living the tree top version of a Florida retirement village spreading chlamydia to one another like it was avocado on toast—the main reason a group of koalas is now referred to as a round of applause.
A rare glimpse of a koala key party after finishing the 2nd bottle of wine.
Even some humans have parachuted down from the peak of the food chain to resign themselves to only eating kale and iron supplements. But only giraffes decided it was a good idea to Stretch Armstrong their limbs and neck to feast on the tree tops.
While their height does protect them from girls on Tinder saying they’re not a real man, it comes with way more disadvantages than any number of swipe rights could assuage. First and most obviously, they’re massive, and therefore, super obvious. Giraffes can be spotted by predators from miles away. Monkeys and birds hide in treetops while eating treetops—the smarter approach to the arboreal lifestyle—while giraffes have decided to adopt the same mantra as any 16 year old white girl who’s ever been made fun of, “it’s better to stand out than blend in.” The only problem being that while Bland Hathaway could “literally” die right now because another girl wore the same shirt as her, a giraffe could literally die right now because it’s surrounded on all sides by thousands of pounds of hungry teeth and claws wanting a table for four at that 17 ft tall walking Golden Corral. Plus, as Yao Ming proved, being tall doesn’t make you less injury-prone.
Necks are the real life equivalent of the big glowing weak spots found on any Zelda boss. This makes giraffes the training dummies of the African Savanah. They’re the tutorial, the section of the game you’re handheld through before you’re sick of all of Navi’s commands. Giraffes even took another massive step into Glass Joe territory by making their necks their main offensive weapon. Ever see soccer players line up to block a free kick? You’re supposed to guard your weak spot, not lead with it.
Proof CTE is an evolutionary concern
Animals need two things to survive: food and water. Giraffes decided to make the latter of those exceedingly difficult by putting their heads as far away as possible from any water source. Due to a lack of straws on the savannah since reusable plastics were banned, in order to drink, giraffes are forced to bend over spread eagle into an awkward half split like a 43-year old stuck in downward dog during their first ever sun salutation. Basically pinning a Kick Me sign on their rumps that any lion or crocodile would happily pounce on.
Good. Now control your breathing.
Giraffes are proof a reboot is never as good as the original. With a lack of any real purpose outside of being the base of a lion pyramid scheme during “I Just Can’t Wait to be King”, giraffes lack the substance or characterization to entertain anyone over the age of 11. They’ve also failed in the business world, running the world’s largest toy store into the ground. Sticking to their motto of “I don’t wanna grow up” would’ve made much more sense than trying to impress by being the world’s tallest animal. Like Icarus, they flew a little too close to the sun and it’s hubris that brought them back down to earth.
For his comeback tour, Geoffrey changes his name to Jim Giraffigan
Rating: I give giraffes 2 Thumbs and 6 Forefingers Up out of a possible 58 Stars. Great to see if you have kids and want them quiet for an hour, but maybe wait until it comes out on DVD.
Why make a blogging blog and what the blog is going on here?
At the very nexus, the core, the bullseye of seismic activity and prehistoric reptiles, this blog exists. Designed to shake, rattle, and alligator death roll the people of this world into waking up, opening their eyes, and truly seeing for the very first time. Like that one scene in The Matrix only with less bald Keanu Reeves and vomit.
Earthquakes & Alligators 