Undermoderated

This is what happens when shit gets unreal

Where’s that old camera?

Recently, I was shocked—shocked!—when a friend looking over my shoulder at work asked me what the hell I was looking at. And not because it wasn’t work related. No, sadly, it would have been more remarkable if he’d caught me working.

What amazed me was that this guy had clearly never heard of Channel 101. Begun somewhere around 2004, the premise is, you make a TV show pilot and send it in. The trick is, it has to be a whole episode in 5 minutes or less.

Once your pilot is received and passes an initial “obvious crap” screening, a bunch of the best looking shows are selected for a screening in front of a live audience. (Which really stands for, play them in a theater while a bunch of people get smashed and make fun of them.) The audience votes on their favorites, and the top 5 become “prime time series.” [see diagram]

Congratulations, because now you have to submit a new 5 minute episode for every month’s screening until you get knocked off by a new pilot.

Mostly, this is done by amateurs in their spare time, but occasionally a pro from the industry will drop in. It tends to run to the silly (Could they be any more baked?) but production quality can be surprisingly high. Channel 101 has spawned a meme referenced on Family Guy and at least one series that gained mainstream attention for its gimmick of being shot surreptitiously entirely inside an Ikea store.

Current Prime Timers. Everything—on a 13-episode winning streak—is actually quite good.

My
Top
Four
Favorites.

For more browsing goodness, see also the spinoff, Channel 101:NY. Go ahead, stay up watching all night. It’s not like you do anything at work anyway. Oh wait, that’s me.

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Can’t we just say, “Wow, that’s a lot of snow”?

Snowpocalypse, snowmageddon, epic shitstorm of a snowstorm, call it what you will, it is snowing.  A lot.  Here’s a picture of my front yard as seen from the bay window on the front of our house:

 

OMG WHITENESS

You can almost see my car.

The only thing I don’t like about this storm aside from having to shovel out the driveway and the fact that I still have to work are the names that the media have come up with for it.  Here I’d like to look at the names that they have been using, point out why they are stupid and then see if we can come up with well a better one.

Snowmageddon

The origins of this one are obviously Armageddon.  Now, most of my friends think “Oh, well that’s like this bad thing that’s in the bible or something?  Stop asking me such weird questions.”  According to Wikipedia (which is never wrong, I might add), Armageddon is:

Mount Armageddon is the site of an epic battle associated with the end time prophecies of the Abrahamic religions.

According to some premillennial Christian interpretations, the Messiah will return to earth and defeat the Antichrist (the “beast”) in the battle of Armageddon. Then Satan will be put into the “bottomless pit” or abyss for 1,000 years, known as the Millennial Age. After being released from the abyss, Satan will gather Gog and Magog (peoples of two specific nations) from the four corners of the earth. They will encamp surrounding the “holy ones” and the “beloved city” (this refers to Jerusalem). Fire will come down from God, out of heaven and devour Gog and Magog after the Millennium, and the Devil who deceived them is thrown into Gehenna (the Lake of Fire and brimstone, or Hell) where the Beast and the False Prophet have been since just before the 1,000 years.

I guess for a lot of people this would kind of suck but this is also referred to as the second coming of Christ which, for a shitload of people in the US (especially around where I live) this would be pretty awesome because they would finally get to go to Heaven and never have to face things like poverty or illegal aliens or scary people with different skin colors or, heaven forbid (for reals), homosexuals.

Comparing a big snowstorm to the second coming of Christ would be bad for a lot of people but with the Christian bias in the media, this is kind of a dumb choice.

Snowpocalypse

Well, hey, guess what?  The Apocalypse is the same damn event just by people who believe slightly differently than the people above (I guess Jesus wore brown instead of tan robes or something).  The Apocalypse is supposed to herald the second coming of the Messiah and he is supposed to reign for 1000 years (which really isn’t that long if you think about it).  So again, for Christians, Snowpocalypse = Yay, Jesus the snowman!

Let he who is without sin, cast the first snowball

So we see that the two main names that are full of doom and gloom that the media has been using are flawed.  For a better term, we need to turn to a group of people that kicked much more ass than pussy Christians: Vikings!  For vikings, the end of the world was Ragnarök.

Ragnarök + Snow = Snognarök

This is the end times as interpreted by the Norse.  And, I think this is personally a more apt description.  Again from Wikipedia:

In Norse mythology, Ragnarök (Old Norse “final destiny of the gods”) is a series of future events, including a great battle foretold to ultimately result in the death of a number of major figures (including the godsOdin, Thor, Týr, Freyr, Heimdallr, and Loki), the occurrence of various natural disasters, and the subsequent submersion of the world in water. Afterward, the world will resurface anew and fertile, the surviving and reborn gods will meet, and the world will be repopulated by two human survivors.

Hey, snow IS water!  OMG!  And then I guess it starts over like the Matrix or something, who knows?  They drank alot.  Snognarok also has the word “Snog” in it, which is a word Brits use to describe “making out” and as we all know, lots of babies are conceived during blizzards.

So go out there and enjoy your snow day thanks to EPIC SNOGNARÖK!

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I’m Cool…

I’m cool, like Dave Navarro in a striped rugby and garden clogs is cool. Which is to say, I am not cool. (However, I can eyeline the crap out of stuff.)

So when someone compliments me about my perceived cooliosity, I often seem like a complete ass. I start with “Hahaha… wait, what?” and it devolves quickly into me trying really hard to live up to their (rather poorly placed) faith that I am, indeed, cool. Which I do, of course, by saying “Watch this!”

“And THIS!”

“Hey, look at me!!!”

Actually, it solves the whole conundrum rather quickly, as they generally realize how wrong they were, and they TAKE. IT. BACK. Slowly. Without actually turning and running, because that would be foolish. And Dave Navarro might be gaining on ya. Or he would be, if it weren’t for the garden clogs. They slow a fella down.

So anyway, I was being told the other day, that I was cool, and I was trying mightily to prove the person wrong, when a halftime report came on, and it included a “news” story, about that guy on American Idol, who sang a song he wrote to his brain damaged fiancée. Hey, he’s probably a very talented nice guy, but the person I was talking to actually stopped watching my antics abruptly, and became engrossed. Engrossed, I tell you. And said this…

I did this.

Then I did this!

Then, even Dave Navarro did this

He was relieved, though, because he wasn’t gonna have to run in his clogs. I gave up, and went to eyeline something. I have been cured of trying to live up to this particular compliment.

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Moar!

When I started Undermoderated, I had a vision of a place where the smartest and funniest people I knew could gather and share themselves with all of you and that it would become popular enough for us all to sell out and retire to our own private islands (please email undermoderated@gmail.com with offers).

I’m very excited to say that almost everyone I initially invited to join me on this ridiculous project has agreed to become a regular contributing author.  The strange thing about this is that even though I know all of these people (and have known some of them for years), they have no idea who the other authors are.  Almost all of them are total strangers to each other and they all come from a wide variety of backgrounds.  Things that they do have in common: a sense of  what is funny, intelligence and strong opinions.

It’s my hope that with such diverse people that we will have some awsome fights great discussions and something funny and interesting to read for pretty much anyone who visits here.  Come and join us, won’t you?  Click that big button on the side there to be emailed whenever there’s a new post or subscribe to the RSS feed and leave us your comments to tell us how great we are or just how lonely you are.

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Dain Bramage

I recently spied this article on BoingBoing.net and, like many things that they post, it got me to thinking.

Go ahead and go look at this, I’ll wait: Alien Hand Syndrome sees woman attacked by her own hand

… mmmMMmm hmm hmmm…

I said go look, don’t just sit here.

You’re still here aren’t you? I mean it, go at least skim the article, there’s even a nice video for you to watch. Ok, so shoo and leave this window open and come back.

Ok, now close the pop-up ads and pay attention again.

Before your corups callosum is severed, your brain is fairly happy. There’s an Alpha side and and a Beta side and they work together well to do all of the tasks that you have to do during the day.

OMG, I

After the operation, suddenly the relationship turns rocky. It turns out that the left half of the brain never really loved the right half and still secretly hoped that it was half of the brain from a twin that was absorbed in the womb.

The right half of her brain was free from the shackles of her left brain and, like a child on Christmas morning, went berserk. With no one there to put it in timeout it started doing whatever the hell it wanted which, in her case, involved slapping her in the face, hard, repeatedly. Ok, so now imagine that you are in this woman’s unfortunate situation where your corpus callosum has been severed and suddenly the two hemispheres of your brain were no longer on speaking terms with each other.

Join me for a theoretical tour of “shit that would be hard to do if half of your brain didn’t want to listen to you”.

  1. Masturbation. You would have to get the other half of your brain “in the mood” before you could masturbate. Especially for the women if you want your disobedient hand to help out with the vibrator or the anal beads, you’re going to need cooperation from both hands to have a good time.
  2. Toss the perfect pizza crust. Ever see one of those guys throw a pizzs crust one handed?
  3. Play the theremin. Well, I suppose you could make some noise on it (which to be fair is all some people think is possible from it), but you certainly won’t be playing the Super Mario Brothers theme.
  4. Play Super Mario, or any console game for that matter. “Move left, godamn it! Now jump!” Your Call of Duty squad would frag you and leave your corpse for the birds.
  5. Give someone the “double bird”. I guess if both halves of your brain were pissed off at the person it might work. There’s also a chance that one of your hands would flip you off instead though.
  6. Yawn in peace. If your alien hand is annoyed it can try and gag you every time you get in the middle of a really good yawn.
  7. Play a musical instrument other than a kazoo. Not gonna happen.

Of course the flipside of having independent brains is that there are some activities that you can only do if you were the man (or woman) with two brains.

  1. Thumb wrestle yourself and have it be a fair fight.
  2. Roast two marshmallows perfectly at the same time.
  3. Play doubles tennis even if your partner was sick. If you and another person from the split brain support group got together, you could play a full set of doubles tennis with just the two of you.
  4. Perform magic tricks for yourself without knowing how they were done.
  5. Text and drive in perfect safety, possibly even sext and drive though that is a higher difficulty.
  6. High five yourself and mean it, yay us!

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Here I Am!

A blog, huh? Odd that I’m writing on one, really, as I spend a lot of time railing against the 24 hour information cycle, and how it has corrupted the news. And I completely blame the blogoshere.

Not the cool, attractive, fancy-worded, ERUDITE blogoshere, of course,

but the fat, ugly, Neanderthal blogosphere

It is obvious which side of that equation I fall on, so I will not embarrass you by belaboring the point. More on that another day…

Suffice to say, I will probably find a conspiracy or two to write about. I am currently engrossed by the one that is being perpetrated by the Hershey Company, in which they buy advertisement that is so bent on me NOT eating Kit Kat bars, and that they are willing to have the product shown being eaten by trolls at high volume to ensure it. Jokes on you guys… I know where the mute button is on the remote, AND, failing that, have become adept at sticking my fingers in my ears and humming really loudly, while squinching my eyes shut, to avoid any hint of the ad reaching my brain. So, basically, I look like this, whenever the commercial comes on:

You may say “But, isn’t this easily solvable? Couldn’t you just get off your butt, and move away from the television?” Well, yeah, but that would involve moving the candy bowl, and the wrappers, finding the remote so I can turn off the television, getting up without overstressing my Pajama Jeans, and doing… something.

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Whack with Poo Brain

Hello, I’m p00brain. Like undermoderated, I too long for a consequence free place to speak my mind.  On this surface this may seem strange because if you know me you would think that I do speak my mind, without filter.  Alas I do not.  I do keep some things to myself, or at least I don’t blog about them.

I look forward to complaining about people I know that are whack with poo brain or about stuff that pisses me off, or perhaps the stuff that we just don’t talk about in civilized society (like the best way to put babies to sleep is to shake them.)  We’ll see.  Until next time, this is p00brain, the newest member of Undermoderated…signing off.

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Your Heroes Are Morons

ASVAB for Dummies

No doubt

Our Congress has referred to the men and women of our armed forces as “our Nation’s most precious treasure“.  Let me tell you as someone who served along side of some of these precious gems, there are some very stupid people in the military.

“But”, you say, “every soldier and sailor has to pass the ASVAB to be accepted into the armed forces before they can serve!”

How important is the ASVAB test?

Your scores in four critical areas — Arithmetic Reasoning, Word Knowledge, Paragraph Comprehension and Mathematics Knowledge (see below) — count towards your Armed Forces Qualifying Test (AFQT) score. The AFQT score determines whether you’re qualified to enlist in the U.S. military.

These are very basic assessment tests at about a ninth grade level.  Once you’ve taken this test, you have to meet certain minimum standards according to “The ASVAB Explained“.

One of the most critical of these scores is the Armed Forces Qualification Test, which is used to determine if you are qualified to join the military service. Each service determines the qualification AFQT score for enlisting in their service.The AFQT is comprised of your test results in Arithmetic Reasoning (AR), Math Knowledge (MK), and Verbal Composite (VE) x 2. Your Verbal Composite score is a combination of your Word Knowledge and Paragraph Comprehension scores. Check out the following AFQT qualifying scores for each branch of service.

Service Branch Required AFQT Score
Army 31
Navy 35
Marines 31
Air Force 36
Coast Guard 45

The AFQT is out of a possible 100 points.  If you got a 31% on the test and are trying to get into the Army well, congratulations!  31% is a passing grade, please remember that the pointy part of the gun goes away from you!

“But”, you say again, “I was raised in a meth lab and lived off of rat carcasses and paint chips, how will I ever be able to serve my country?”

Gunship Grey

As a Boatswain's Mate you will see this color a lot.

Well buck up my mouth breathing latrine cleaner, it is possible to get a special waiver to allow you to serve with scores even lower than those.  Rejoice!  You too can be like the young man I served with in the Navy.  Let’s call him Seaman Recruit Smith.

SR Smith was a Boatswain’s Mate.  Boatswain’s are responsible for maintaining the lines, deck and hull of the ship.  Part of this involves using pneumatic chipping hammers and needle guns to blast off old rusty paint off of the decks and hull.  Once the old paint is stripped off you then put primer on the bare metal and repaint it.  Try to remember these steps because you will repeat them roughly sixteen billion times over your career.  That’s a lot of work though so sometimes you just put new paint on over the rust, especially if time is short and an Admiral is coming for an inspection soon.   This paint and, especially the primer, is very toxic stuff.

Forget the lead based paint chips that you were raised on, this paint probably has more heavy metals than the steel hull that you’re painting it on.  Breathing the fumes from the primer kills as many braincells per breath as hard night of binge drinking.   All of these toxic, flammable and dangerous paints and primers are all kept in one central location on the ship: The Paint Locker.

The Paint Locker

The place braincells go to die

Whenever the paint locker is open, someone has to stand watch in it.  I’m not sure exactly why anyone might want to steal/sabotage/huff toxic, flammable paint from the locker but someone has to stand there and make sure that all paint is signed in and out or the terrorists win.  This person is also is responsible for mixing up the toxic epoxy-like mix that is the primer on the ships and gets a face full every time someone needs it.

This was the prime job for SR Smith.  SR Smith thrived in the paint locker!  He had responsibilities!  He was in charge of all of the paint in the ship!

I guess the guys in charge of the deck division figured that no further damage that could be done to his mind since his remaining functional braincells had already been compressed inside of his head into a small lump with a hard protective shell like cerebellum gobstopper.  He was always in the locker when it was open.  They may have moved his bunk in there at one point, I’m not sure.  After spending a couple of years on board with him, I managed to engage him in conversation one day and found out how he was able to get into the service.

Try to cover your amazement, but he had a waiver for his ASVAB score.  His combined AFQT score was… 13.  This makes him marginally more sentient than the paint that he so lovingly tended to.  He might even have passed the Touring test.

I have a sign!

MMMM... Toasty! Like my brain!

So next Veteran’s Day just remember, not everyone who has served in the armed forces was doing it out of a sense of nobility and duty to God and Country.  A lot of them joined because they really didn’t have any other options.

SR Smith, wherever you are, I hope that you stayed in for 20 years and retired with a nice fat retirement and disability check for the physical and mental damage you suffered sustained while serving your country.  You will no doubt need that income to help support you in your new career as a Quiznos sign holder.

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Contact information added

If by some reason you feel the need to reach out and touch someone other than yourself, and you meet the criteria listed on the contact page, then you may show me how fantastic you are by contacting me at an email address that I sometimes actually look at.  Huzzah!

What the hell THIS all about, anyway?

To be honest, I don’t really know.

There’s been a feeling of “over connectedness” in my life and this site is an attempt to say, “F’ all that” and let me drop the filters and BS that I usually have up.  Whenever I go on Twitter or Facebook or my family blog, sure, I can share “OMG I JUST POOPED! LOL!” which is very “OMG LIKE!” but I can’t really say things like, “I was looking at some porn the other day and this guy reached up and fisted this chick while she was cooking a meal and she got this really weird look on her face.  I’m pretty sure that she thought she was going to be on some sort of local access cable cooking show right up until the point where this guy wearing the cheap rolex knockoff turned her into a slut muppet.”

Topics here I expect to range from politics to video games to sex and whatever other random crap my brain is feeling constipated by.

If by some strange chance one of my friends or family members stumbles across this blog some day and connects the dots to say “Holy crap, I’m going to KILL HIM for saying that!”, allow me to just say this:

“I am so, very, VERY sorry.”

EDIT: Moved this to the helpful about page.