Rambling Rhodes

Diversity

According to my Site-Meter, in the last half-hour I've had visitors from such exotic countries as:

France
Spain
Denmark
Turkey
Germany
Iran
Norway
Canada
Colombia
Israel
United Kingdom
Mexico
Sweden
Argentina
United Arab Emirates

That's right, bitches, my blog was able to bring the Iranians and Israelis together. Who needs the U.N. when you have my ass picture bringing about global tranquility? The Nobel Peace Prize is just within my grasp.

UPDATE: I also just had a visitor from Syria. Hello, Syrian visitor!

UPDATE II: And an Iraq visitor!

I'm telling you, this increased blog traffic is interesting as hell.

Idiot

This person is an idiot. There are other idiots like this idiot, but I'll focus my ire on only this idiot for now.

Violent video games: Not for kids of any age

Which begs the question: at what age do kids become. . . not kids? According to this idiot: NEVER!

U.S. District Judge James Rosenbaum has ruled that "the state failed to show that the graphic video games were harmful to children" (Star Tribune, Aug. 1).

That's because District Judge James Rosenbaum is NOT an idiot. Whereas you, sir, ARE an idiot. It's an important distinction.

I don't like video games and think they are just a bunch of trash that doesn't build up anyone's mind, character or morals.

Really? Did you grow up playing, say, The Oregon Trail? Have you ever actually sat down and marvelled at the sheer volume of mythological images and themes referenced in a LOT of video games? Have you ever played some of the first person perspective games that challenge the hell out of you to navigate incredibly complex maps and puzzles? I dare you, idiot, to pick up a joystick and try to solve the complexities of Myst and its derivatives. Do that and come back and tell me video games don't build your fucking mind. Myst kept me up nights it was so irritatingly complex. Of course, an idiot like you would see Myst on screen and sneer dismissively in a predictively idiot way, you fucking idiot.

However, I don't understand why so many adults think they can accept and handle video and other images that are supposedly harmful to children.

Hey, idiot, supposedly harmful does NOT = HARMFUL. There is, literally, tons of shit that's supposedly harmful to children, but hasn't been proven to be harmful, as District Judge James Rosenbaum so helpfully explained, because, as stated, District Judge James Rosenbaum is not a world-class idiot, like yourself.

What makes adults think they are less vulnerable to corrupt or violent images than children?

JOHN K. BISPALA, MINNEAPOLIS

This is the most idiotic statement of this idiot's idiotic letter. But what the hell, I'll take a stab at it.

Dear idiot:

What makes me, an adult, think I'm not vulnerable to corrupt or violent images? Hmmm, let me think. Well, for starters, I know that, if I'm horribly wounded by a rocket propelled grenade launched by a dessicated corpse in Area 51, chances are I probably won't be healed by a magically hovering health cube. I also know that, if I were to open fire with an incredibly heavy chain gun in some office somewhere, I'd probably do pretty extensive damage, rather than just blowing out windows and a random desk chair, while the pencil sharpener JUST WON'T DIE! But, mostly, idiot, I know that, when I put in a game cartridge, or fire up a computer CD or DVD, and press the power or click "Play Game," I know that I'm playing a fucking GAME, you fucking cock knob. And, when I'm done playing said game, I know that I won't feel compelled to slap a magazine of bullets in my Glock and take out a few neighbors. Yes, there may be, out of the millions and millions and millions and millions of people who play video games, a few who can't separate fantasy from reality. But, you know what? If they didn't have video games to feed their psychosis, they'd just find some other outlet like, say, role playing board games, to fuel themselves until they snap. Perhaps you'd like to ban board games? While you're at it, movies too, perhaps. And when all is said and done, when video games and board games and violent movies and television are all gone, and the only images floating around are those of Care Bears and Smurfs (no Gargamel or Azrael, as per your idiotic dictate), and the next round of violence breaks out somewhere in America, I'm sure you, dear idiot, will be right there with your next theory of the ROOTS OF CORRUPTION and VIOLENCE.

For the record, idiot, I grew up on video games, video games that were then, like now, deemed excessively violent. Yet, strangely, I have never harbored the desire to kill ANYONE. Oh, sure, I've gotten into the occasional scrap or two, but they were mostly due to me hitting on the wrong woman at a bar when their boyfriend was standing behind me. I can assure you, idiot, that the ass whuppings I received on those occasions had very little to do with my childhood history of playing Atari Battle Tank or Ninja Gaiden, and everything to do with bad timing and worse judgement.

So, in conclusion: you are an idiot. Go forth and figure out how best to become not an idiot. That is all.

With apologies to the Kool Aid Report for intruding on their usual crusade against stupid letters to the editor.

Dark Knight. Heath Ledger. Batman. The Joker. Dark Knight. Heath Ledger. Batman. The Joker. Dark Knight. Heath Ledger. Batman. The Joker.

I Give You. . .

The funniest damned thing you'll see all week.

Epiphany

I tallied just over 27,000 visitors to this blog last month; I was just shy of 2,000 yesterday; and it looks like I'm poised to easily surpass that today. These numbers are rather amazing to me.

And it occurred to me that this blog has pretty much obliterated any sense of personal online anonymity. Between this blog and the IBM magazine articles I've written over the years, my name is a simplistic Google search away.

When I started this thing as an outlet to strengthen my writing, I never really expected it to be viewed by 27,000 people a month. Hell, for the first year or so I was, maybe, tallying 20 views a day, with most of those being me. So, as I watched the insanity that was my Site-Meter for July, I felt more than just a little bit e-Naked. The number of people looking for my infamous ass picture truly was rather amazing. I mean. . . WHY?

Sure, I've done little experiments in hit-whoring over the years, but they've never really amounted to much. July, however, drove some fairly sobering thoughts into my head.

Firstly, any job I ever actually manage to get a sit-down interview for, I can be fairly certain that the person conducting the interview will have read at least some portion of my blog in preparation. And that's assuming they'd ever want a sit-down interview in the first place, considering the crassness and potty humor on display here.

Secondly, I'm not sure there's any going back at this point. Oh, I suppose I could, someday, if the traffic gets too scary, take all of this down, pour gas on it, and strike a match (a la Plain Layne/Odin Soli), but Google, specifically, and the Internet in general tends to remember ALL. I can never really expect to say "nope, didn't do it; there's nothing to see here; ignore all that excremental humor."

Thirdly, I can't fool myself: there's a very bigly part of me that really wants to see how wild and crazy this blog traffic can get. Sure, it could all just be an anomalous month or so of increased traffic, but it could also continue growing and growing as the Internet thirst for my ass picture reaches infinite proportions.

Finally, I've said it before, but it really is true: the Inter-Web is weird. I mean, why this blog? It's nonsensical, infantile, crass, un-focused and not at all visually compelling. Compared to a lot of blogs on my usual-read list, this blog sucks the mighty wang, and yet those blogs get 1/5 the traffic. It makes no sense.

All this thinkering could be pointless, of course, because as I noted, it could all just be a fluke month of unusually high traffic. But, having just tallied my 1,080th visitor at 1:30 p.m., there's part of me that thinks it may be here to stay.

My Interview With Mel Gibson

Please, help yourself to a drink. Make yourself comfortable.

Don't mind if I do. Three fingers of whiskey should do the trick.

Well, I may as well cut right to the issue at hand here. Just before the weekend, you said some pretty inflammatory things about Jewish people.

Now, I should note here that some of the things I said were taken completely out of context, and they shouldn't be. . .

"The Jews are responsible for all the wars in the world!" is what you "hollered," according to a Los Angeles police report.

Yeah, well, that conveniently glosses over the fact that I was drunk when I said it.

I'm afraid I don't follow.

What aren't you following? I was drunk, see. I was being arrested for drunk driving! I can't be held responsible for what comes out of my mouth during such times of increased stress and intoxication.

So, that's your excuse? That you were drunk?

*takes a long pull off a Wild Turkey bottle* YES!

You can't think of any other reason why you may have said such things?

No. Well. . . *polishes off the Wild Turkey and throws the bottle at my head*

Well, now that I really think about it, the Jews are probably to blame!

What in the holy hell just happened to your face?!

I told ya, I get different when I get to drinking! Who are you, anyway?! You look like a Jew!

Huh? Wha? Me, a Jew? Are you kidding? I'm not even a particuarly good Christian.

Are you sure? You look awfully Jewey to me! You're probably all set to start a war at any second!

Please, Mr. Gibson, please calm down. Can we get him some coffee?

Make it Starbucks! Don't try to pawn off any of that Jewish Juan Valdez shit, either! I'm on to you, Jew-boy!

Where's that coffee! We need it! Now! Here, here Mr. Gibson. Some fresh Starbucks.

*drinks coffee*

How are you feeling?

Much better, thanks! Who are you again?

Um, Ryan. Ryan Rhodes.

Well, it was nice meeting you Ryan. I have to go now. Perhaps we'll meet again someday.

And which Mel Gibson would I be expecting?

Excuse me?

Never mind.

A Pretty Good Month

Not sure what's behind this spike, but there are apparently A LOT of people looking for that picture of my ass. Like, about 1/3 of all visitors. I'm not sure if that's cool, sad or scary. Probably all three.