Follow this link to Maureen Dowd's recent op-ed piece in the New York Times. I think part of our vetting process should be if Obama can take a joke without crying about it.
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/16/opinion/16dowd.html?ex=1373947200&en=935f4562bc9195b4&ei=5124&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink
Friday, July 18, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Obama and the New Yorker
Finally someone has revealed Barack and Michelle Obama for who they truly are…flag burning militants sympathetic to Middle East terrorists.
Oh, sure, editors at The New Yorker claim their recent cover is just a satire, an attempt to highlight the Conservative Right’s fears of the presumptive Democratic nominee, but we all know this is just a rouse to protect their liberal blue state credentials as they break rank to try and deliver the real message about the dangers of a Barack Obama presidency. They say average people like us won’t get it’s a satire, and they’re right. We see through the satire to the real conspiracy, don’t we?
First off, the magazine cover reveals that Barack Obama is secretly a member of the Taliban. Just look at him. He’s the same color as a terrorist. And he looks so good in that terrorist outfit of his. Plus, isn’t it interesting that his name, Barack Obama, sounds so similar to Osama Bin Laden that you could easily call him Obama Bin Laden? My word processor even insists on changing Obama to Osama when I do a spell check which I have to do often since I’m one of those dim witted people who don’t get big two syllable words like satire.
It gives one pause, does it not? It even makes one wonder if Obama’s meteoric rise on the national scene is really a conspiracy among the members of the Illuminati. How else could a man with such a funny name come so close to an Oval Office designed for old white man with boring names like Bill and George and Jimmy. It’s a slippery slope, ladies and gentlemen. Once we get one guy with a funny name in there, the flood gates will open. Presidents set trends after all. John F. Kennedy ruined the fedora industry because he refused to wear a hat in public, and so this wonderful fashion accessory disappeared from men’s heads across the country. I guarantee the same will happen to boring names. Now everybody will want to name their kids something funny like Ochra or Pleutarch.
Also take a look in the fireplace. He’s burning American flags. He’s using them as kindling. Now some may argue that he’s doing the Patriotic thing and burning these flags because they got dirty. But not me. The truth is obvious. Obama is just really, really cold. He’s wearing nothing but a robe after all. He’s probably freezing half to death. It does snow in Washington after all, and with the price of oil today, we cannot afford to heat the Oval Office anymore. So the guy decides to burn some flags. But couldn’t he have burned somebody else’s flag, like maybe the flag of an enemy, like maybe, you know, Iran or North Korea?
Then there is his wife, Michelle, with that big 1970s Afro and combat boots. Who knew an Ivy League educated lawyer could secretly be a member of the Black Panthers? What can we draw from this? It’s obvious as the nose ring on your face. She’s going to ride into Washington in her 1975 Cadillac with the pink leather interior and redecorate the West Wing with lava lamps and disco balls. Worse, I bet she’ll even use her power as first lady to lobby television executives to revive Soul Train, a favorite program among radical Black Panther Ivy League lawyers.
Yet, the biggest thing this magazine cover shows us is…Barack and Michelle do not have a sense of humor. They’re not smiling in the picture. They don’t smile when they look at the picture. They don’t even smile when they talk about the picture at their campaign rallies. They just whine about wit. They claim it reinforces stereotypes. Now why would they say an awful thing like that?
But it does beg the question…how much will they bitch and moan about the negative media attention they receive if they do end up in the Oval Office? You don’t hear George W. Bush whining. And that guy’s had movies made about him. Web sites compare the man to a chimp…and the similarity between the old W and our distant ancestors does seem eerily close indeed. But Bush doesn’t whine about it. Maybe it’s because he’s too stupid to know any better. But he doesn’t whine.
Maybe if Barack really wants to win the white house, he should man up and learn to take a joke…even if it’s too sophisticated a joke for all those poor middle Americans who have nothing better to take refuge in except guns and religion and baseless fears about Obama Bin Laden.
Oh, sure, editors at The New Yorker claim their recent cover is just a satire, an attempt to highlight the Conservative Right’s fears of the presumptive Democratic nominee, but we all know this is just a rouse to protect their liberal blue state credentials as they break rank to try and deliver the real message about the dangers of a Barack Obama presidency. They say average people like us won’t get it’s a satire, and they’re right. We see through the satire to the real conspiracy, don’t we?
First off, the magazine cover reveals that Barack Obama is secretly a member of the Taliban. Just look at him. He’s the same color as a terrorist. And he looks so good in that terrorist outfit of his. Plus, isn’t it interesting that his name, Barack Obama, sounds so similar to Osama Bin Laden that you could easily call him Obama Bin Laden? My word processor even insists on changing Obama to Osama when I do a spell check which I have to do often since I’m one of those dim witted people who don’t get big two syllable words like satire.
It gives one pause, does it not? It even makes one wonder if Obama’s meteoric rise on the national scene is really a conspiracy among the members of the Illuminati. How else could a man with such a funny name come so close to an Oval Office designed for old white man with boring names like Bill and George and Jimmy. It’s a slippery slope, ladies and gentlemen. Once we get one guy with a funny name in there, the flood gates will open. Presidents set trends after all. John F. Kennedy ruined the fedora industry because he refused to wear a hat in public, and so this wonderful fashion accessory disappeared from men’s heads across the country. I guarantee the same will happen to boring names. Now everybody will want to name their kids something funny like Ochra or Pleutarch.
Also take a look in the fireplace. He’s burning American flags. He’s using them as kindling. Now some may argue that he’s doing the Patriotic thing and burning these flags because they got dirty. But not me. The truth is obvious. Obama is just really, really cold. He’s wearing nothing but a robe after all. He’s probably freezing half to death. It does snow in Washington after all, and with the price of oil today, we cannot afford to heat the Oval Office anymore. So the guy decides to burn some flags. But couldn’t he have burned somebody else’s flag, like maybe the flag of an enemy, like maybe, you know, Iran or North Korea?
Then there is his wife, Michelle, with that big 1970s Afro and combat boots. Who knew an Ivy League educated lawyer could secretly be a member of the Black Panthers? What can we draw from this? It’s obvious as the nose ring on your face. She’s going to ride into Washington in her 1975 Cadillac with the pink leather interior and redecorate the West Wing with lava lamps and disco balls. Worse, I bet she’ll even use her power as first lady to lobby television executives to revive Soul Train, a favorite program among radical Black Panther Ivy League lawyers.
Yet, the biggest thing this magazine cover shows us is…Barack and Michelle do not have a sense of humor. They’re not smiling in the picture. They don’t smile when they look at the picture. They don’t even smile when they talk about the picture at their campaign rallies. They just whine about wit. They claim it reinforces stereotypes. Now why would they say an awful thing like that?
But it does beg the question…how much will they bitch and moan about the negative media attention they receive if they do end up in the Oval Office? You don’t hear George W. Bush whining. And that guy’s had movies made about him. Web sites compare the man to a chimp…and the similarity between the old W and our distant ancestors does seem eerily close indeed. But Bush doesn’t whine about it. Maybe it’s because he’s too stupid to know any better. But he doesn’t whine.
Maybe if Barack really wants to win the white house, he should man up and learn to take a joke…even if it’s too sophisticated a joke for all those poor middle Americans who have nothing better to take refuge in except guns and religion and baseless fears about Obama Bin Laden.
Friday, July 6, 2007
Responses to God Post
So, we received one response about the God job description posting we uploaded to Craigslist. A nice young woman sent me a deceptively simple email reading:"bless you".
Bless you? An ambiguous phrase just hanging there, isn't it? I could make several readings from those two simple words.
For instance, maybe she agreed that we need to hire a new God. The present entity holding the position is obviously sleeping on the job. What has he done lately? What miracles? What divine interventions? What prophets has he recruited? He's a Deity whose lost interest in his job. But, then, who wouldn't after a dozen or so millennia? Maybe he just needs to retire and go golfing for a few centuries?
So...in this light...the woman who blessed me via email may have been doing so because she agrees with my assessment of our present God's lackluster job performance.
Or, on the other hand, maybe she thinks I'm a lost soul whose cyder blasphemy will surely have me damned to the lowest circle of hell. Maybe her "bless you" was an attempt to throw me a spiritual life preserver, as if those two simple world would awaken in me some kind of dormant desire to be closer to God?
To which I can only respond: save your blessings.
We have limited resources in this world. There's a limited supply of oil, animal crackers, and blessings. Yes, blessings are a limited resource. We must preserve our blessings. Use them carefully. Otherwise, one day you'll reach down into that seemingly endless well of blessings and find nothing but a few hallelujahs left.
Just a warning to promote spiritual sustainability.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
The Job Search for God
The absurdity is growing far beyond what Albert Camus could have ever imagined, especially in the job market. Have you looked at some of the job descriptions online recently? Employers want everything from good writing skills to over 100 years increasing responsibility in Web 2.0 applications. They’re no longer looking for employees. They want demi-gods.
Which made me wonder: what would God’s job description look like? So, I took the liberty of drafting one since that position, by all appearances, seems vacant. Have a look below and please distribute as you see fit. We need to fill this job before it’s too late. But then…maybe it is too late?
Job Opening: GOD: Governing Operational Director
Location: All of Creation
Salary: DOE
Job Description:
This is a CEO position requiring a candidate with demonstrated experience and success performing the following duties.
Governing all of creation from the subatomic interaction of quirks and superstrings to macro physical level of heavenly bodies
Ensuring the efficient operation and maintenance of the universe
Creating new species to enhance the diversity of the eco-system
Supervising staff of archangels, cherubs, saints, and spirits
Playing dice with the universe
Negotiating contracts with affiliates and partners including Lucifer and other arch-devils
Executing organization’s strategic plan, including the implementation of Armageddon as outlined in the company handbook in the chapter on Revelations
Listening and watching everything
Saving souls
Damning souls
Maintaining positive public relations campaign
Implementing new marketing initiatives including a corporate Blog and enhanced Web 2.0 visibility
Desired Qualifications
Attention to detail
Over a millennium increasing experience in cosmic governance
Excellent writing and communication skills in English, Hebrew, and Arabic….Chinese, Spanish, and Polish a plus
Proficiency with Microsoft Office Suite
Demonstrated ability to perform miracles (i.e. raising the dead, moving mountains, and causing global floods)
A portfolio demonstrating experience creating new fauna and animal species
A PhD. in Cosmic Governance preferred, but demonstrated experience can be substituted on a year-by-year basis
Three letters of recommendation
To apply, send your cover letter, three letters of reference, and a copy of your portfolio to 777 Golden Gate Rd., Heaven Attn: God Search Committee. Please, no phone calls. Recruiters are not welcome to contact this posting. We are an equal opportunity employer so long as you’re not a demon or infidel.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Fun with SPAM
Hey all,
Are you tired of receiving emails from strange people overseas asking you to join their firm as an account executive or some bogus position like that? Well, why not spread the love and do some spamming yourselves?
Here is the mission, should you choose to accept. Borrow the text below, go to the resume section of Craigslist, and start sending it out to unsuspecting job seekers.
Now, I'm no fan of Spam. But consider this friendly, funny Spam. It's uplifting Spam. Or Spam for a happy day. If you love your friends, you'll spam them too. I did. I may spam this some more soon.
Or, why not Spam the Spammers? That's an even better idea. The next time you find yourself Spammed, take this text below, and Spam them right back. There's nothing like revenge to put a spring in your step after all.
So, get to work, my cyber terrorists, and start spamming.
"Dear Sir/Ma’am
My name is Rapunzel Charming. I saw your resume on craigslist and wanted to offer you a very important job. You see, I’m located in the Northern Germany. To be more precise, I’ve been locked away in a tower by my wicked step-mother. I’ve not access to anything except a very slow internet land line. She didn’t even leave me a pair of scissors, so I can’t cut my hair. It’s bad enough being locked up in a tower, but to be forced to wear my hair like a hippy? It’s like living in the dark ages.
But enough about my domestic troubles…
I have a $$$$$$$$$$ making job offer for you. Several years ago Prince Charming and I started a white slavery ring involving several dwarves. There is an abundance of dwarves where we come from, mostly due to malnutrition and poor health care, which itself stems from corruption in the World Bank. This, however, is beside the point. What is important is that our dwarf slave trade turned out to be a winning business model. We sold dwarves to circuses, carnivals, and science labs throughout the world. The money is literally rolling in as you read this email.
Unfortunately, I’m unable to perform the accounts receivable work like I once did, on account of being locked up in a tower with a slow modem and all. Therefore, I’d like to offer you a once in a lifetime opportunity to join Dwarf Trade Enterprises as an accounts receivable specialist. It’s such a simple job even an ogre could do it. Funds are deposited into your bank account; you take a 10% cut, and send the rest to us.
There is one catch. If you try to take any more than 10%....say you have an interest only loan that’s kicking in so you take maybe 11% instead…I’ll have you turned into a toad.
Other than that, there are a number of perks to this position. You get to work for yourself, make lots of money, and get a free dwarf as a token of our appreciation.
Just send me:
Your name:
And any information regarding the following.
Bank Account:
Life insurance policy:
Swiss Bank Account:
Any other Off-Shore Tax Shelters:
IRA Account
Roth IRA Account
401(k) Account
403(b) Account
And any other important account you may have.
Thank you for your interest, and please respond soon as Prince Charming and I would like to fill this vacancy by the end of the week.
Sincerely
Rapunzel Charming
Dwarf Trade Enterprises"
Are you tired of receiving emails from strange people overseas asking you to join their firm as an account executive or some bogus position like that? Well, why not spread the love and do some spamming yourselves?
Here is the mission, should you choose to accept. Borrow the text below, go to the resume section of Craigslist, and start sending it out to unsuspecting job seekers.
Now, I'm no fan of Spam. But consider this friendly, funny Spam. It's uplifting Spam. Or Spam for a happy day. If you love your friends, you'll spam them too. I did. I may spam this some more soon.
Or, why not Spam the Spammers? That's an even better idea. The next time you find yourself Spammed, take this text below, and Spam them right back. There's nothing like revenge to put a spring in your step after all.
So, get to work, my cyber terrorists, and start spamming.
"Dear Sir/Ma’am
My name is Rapunzel Charming. I saw your resume on craigslist and wanted to offer you a very important job. You see, I’m located in the Northern Germany. To be more precise, I’ve been locked away in a tower by my wicked step-mother. I’ve not access to anything except a very slow internet land line. She didn’t even leave me a pair of scissors, so I can’t cut my hair. It’s bad enough being locked up in a tower, but to be forced to wear my hair like a hippy? It’s like living in the dark ages.
But enough about my domestic troubles…
I have a $$$$$$$$$$ making job offer for you. Several years ago Prince Charming and I started a white slavery ring involving several dwarves. There is an abundance of dwarves where we come from, mostly due to malnutrition and poor health care, which itself stems from corruption in the World Bank. This, however, is beside the point. What is important is that our dwarf slave trade turned out to be a winning business model. We sold dwarves to circuses, carnivals, and science labs throughout the world. The money is literally rolling in as you read this email.
Unfortunately, I’m unable to perform the accounts receivable work like I once did, on account of being locked up in a tower with a slow modem and all. Therefore, I’d like to offer you a once in a lifetime opportunity to join Dwarf Trade Enterprises as an accounts receivable specialist. It’s such a simple job even an ogre could do it. Funds are deposited into your bank account; you take a 10% cut, and send the rest to us.
There is one catch. If you try to take any more than 10%....say you have an interest only loan that’s kicking in so you take maybe 11% instead…I’ll have you turned into a toad.
Other than that, there are a number of perks to this position. You get to work for yourself, make lots of money, and get a free dwarf as a token of our appreciation.
Just send me:
Your name:
And any information regarding the following.
Bank Account:
Life insurance policy:
Swiss Bank Account:
Any other Off-Shore Tax Shelters:
IRA Account
Roth IRA Account
401(k) Account
403(b) Account
And any other important account you may have.
Thank you for your interest, and please respond soon as Prince Charming and I would like to fill this vacancy by the end of the week.
Sincerely
Rapunzel Charming
Dwarf Trade Enterprises"
Monday, June 11, 2007
Naughty Cover Letters
I’ve been on the job hunt over six months now. Roughly speaking, that’s 180 days or 4230 hours I’ve spent trolling Craigslist, attending networking meetings, consulting career counselors, scheduling informational interviews, emailing resumes, snail mailing resumes, hand delivering resumes, and, more often than not, pounding my head against the desk just to fill the excruciating silence of the unresponsive hiring managers—all this pain and misery for two measly interviews.
Is it any wonder I’ve lost my mind? Yes, the other day, I threw up my hands in exasperation. I decided that if they weren’t listening, why I could say anything I damn well pleased on my cover letter.
So to Craigslist I raced. The first job I found was a marketing communications specialist. Why not, I thought to myself. I’m at least as good a communicator as George W. Bush. So I wrote:
“Hello, Do you want some boring, dull, ordinary guy hocking your wares for a buck? Or do you want a professional willing to go balls out to make your product shine? If you want the later, I think we may be able to work something out. You want good public speaking that highlights the benefits of your product and drives people to whip out their credit cards and get into fist fights for your stuff? I'm the man. I can mesmerize and incite riots. Do you want a writer who can hook the reader and leave them salivating all over themselves for your merchandise? Yes, I'm him too Do you want an internet marketer who understands search engine optimization so well Google has targeted him for assassination? I'm dodging the bullet as I (ouch) write. Do you want to hire someone who get the job done and gets it done right no matter how many ninjas bar his path? I just killed a ninja. Do you want the Indiana Jones, Luke Skywalker, or Spider-Man of marketing communications specialists? Call me. We can talk over martinis and discuss how we'll take over the world.”
Forget this broke every cover letter rule in the book. I know of a guy who got hired at a major advertising company after submitting his cover letter on a bar napkin. So, I waited and waited and…waited. I could only surmise that they didn’t find my cover letter as clever as I did. So, undaunted, I tried again. I found another marketing communications job that I really felt qualified for as well. This time I decided to show off my rapping skills because every marketing guy needs to know how to rap, right?
“My name is Dan T.
And I'm a marketing G.
You want to sell your P.
Then look no further than me.
The menu is fine
With SEO online
And more Web hits
(Point of sakes, that is)
Than any other mother can deliver
You want communications?
You want to get the word -
OUT!
About the benefits
Of your Gizmo
Gadget
Or Polyester
Magnet?
You want sexy
sumptuous
scintillating
sentences
that will say:
My company is....
Better than a cold beer
On a sweltering sunny day?
Then I'm your man.
Give me a shout out.
This ain't just no R&B
or RC
or even D&D
You know me.
This is all B.S.
(That’s business sales, that is)
So shoot me a line.
We can talk.
If you’re so inclined
to make some sales
and improve your pay scale.
Peace out brother”
Once again, I received no response. Frustrated, I decided maybe marketing communications wasn’t the best career option for me. But what else could an able bodied man like me do for a living? Ah, why hadn’t I considered it before? The sex industry, of course.
“Hi, I'm writing in regards to your male nude models position advertised on craigslist. I think I'm a pretty sexy guy whose dong is quite a bit longer and more fleshy than the young man on your Web site. Actually, to be honest, my dong is so long and full I split my wife in two. It's a dangerous wong I have. It may be too much for the camera. Also, I should warn you of some minor physical disfigurements I have. Please remember, under ADA law, you can't discriminate because of physical disability. But...I've got two penisis. I guess you could call them peni. What is really strange is that one is white and the other black. If I had a third yellow one, I could be a multi-cultural porn star. Please don't tell me this disqualifies me. I'd have to sue you.”
Finally, I hit gold. What porn director could refuse a cover letter like that, especially with the threat of a law suit…unless of course there was no porn director posting this ad, but rather just a bunch of bozos working the night shift, posting misleading ads in the adult section of Craigslist to pass the time rather than doing their work. Ironic, how I’m the one unemployed, huh?
Is it any wonder I’ve lost my mind? Yes, the other day, I threw up my hands in exasperation. I decided that if they weren’t listening, why I could say anything I damn well pleased on my cover letter.
So to Craigslist I raced. The first job I found was a marketing communications specialist. Why not, I thought to myself. I’m at least as good a communicator as George W. Bush. So I wrote:
“Hello, Do you want some boring, dull, ordinary guy hocking your wares for a buck? Or do you want a professional willing to go balls out to make your product shine? If you want the later, I think we may be able to work something out. You want good public speaking that highlights the benefits of your product and drives people to whip out their credit cards and get into fist fights for your stuff? I'm the man. I can mesmerize and incite riots. Do you want a writer who can hook the reader and leave them salivating all over themselves for your merchandise? Yes, I'm him too Do you want an internet marketer who understands search engine optimization so well Google has targeted him for assassination? I'm dodging the bullet as I (ouch) write. Do you want to hire someone who get the job done and gets it done right no matter how many ninjas bar his path? I just killed a ninja. Do you want the Indiana Jones, Luke Skywalker, or Spider-Man of marketing communications specialists? Call me. We can talk over martinis and discuss how we'll take over the world.”
Forget this broke every cover letter rule in the book. I know of a guy who got hired at a major advertising company after submitting his cover letter on a bar napkin. So, I waited and waited and…waited. I could only surmise that they didn’t find my cover letter as clever as I did. So, undaunted, I tried again. I found another marketing communications job that I really felt qualified for as well. This time I decided to show off my rapping skills because every marketing guy needs to know how to rap, right?
“My name is Dan T.
And I'm a marketing G.
You want to sell your P.
Then look no further than me.
The menu is fine
With SEO online
And more Web hits
(Point of sakes, that is)
Than any other mother can deliver
You want communications?
You want to get the word -
OUT!
About the benefits
Of your Gizmo
Gadget
Or Polyester
Magnet?
You want sexy
sumptuous
scintillating
sentences
that will say:
My company is....
Better than a cold beer
On a sweltering sunny day?
Then I'm your man.
Give me a shout out.
This ain't just no R&B
or RC
or even D&D
You know me.
This is all B.S.
(That’s business sales, that is)
So shoot me a line.
We can talk.
If you’re so inclined
to make some sales
and improve your pay scale.
Peace out brother”
Once again, I received no response. Frustrated, I decided maybe marketing communications wasn’t the best career option for me. But what else could an able bodied man like me do for a living? Ah, why hadn’t I considered it before? The sex industry, of course.
“Hi, I'm writing in regards to your male nude models position advertised on craigslist. I think I'm a pretty sexy guy whose dong is quite a bit longer and more fleshy than the young man on your Web site. Actually, to be honest, my dong is so long and full I split my wife in two. It's a dangerous wong I have. It may be too much for the camera. Also, I should warn you of some minor physical disfigurements I have. Please remember, under ADA law, you can't discriminate because of physical disability. But...I've got two penisis. I guess you could call them peni. What is really strange is that one is white and the other black. If I had a third yellow one, I could be a multi-cultural porn star. Please don't tell me this disqualifies me. I'd have to sue you.”
Finally, I hit gold. What porn director could refuse a cover letter like that, especially with the threat of a law suit…unless of course there was no porn director posting this ad, but rather just a bunch of bozos working the night shift, posting misleading ads in the adult section of Craigslist to pass the time rather than doing their work. Ironic, how I’m the one unemployed, huh?
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