All we got to do is hold on to JESUS

So I'm on lunch break, eating at my mom's office as there are a couple internets here. So I was wondering what I was going to do to kill an hour. I resorted to what any fine upstanding American would do, I'm gonna look up Facebook comments on CNN news stories and analyze them. Duh.

I chose an article from a couple days ago. It was another lame human interest story CNN posted on Facebook for reasons I barely understand. The title, "Cooking fries? Cleaning hospitals? Executives reflect on their first job". I read the article, best part is the story of the Walmart CEO, who's first job was unloading trucks for Walmart and crashed his Honda Civic into his bosses car on the first day of work. The article was alright, still don't know why it deserved breaking news status on Facebook, but I digress. Let's dive into the comments section!!!

Our first contestant is Nickolas, a 2009 graduate of Papillion-LaVista South High School. Nickolas writes, "no fucking way! i wonder if steve jobs had to suck off bill gates to get where he is?". Haha, nice try Nick, but the correct answer was Nolan Bushnell, he sucked off Nolan Bushnell.

You don't even know who I am, do you Nick?

Our next contestant is Nikki, a 1998 graduate of Licoln west high school, Nikki likes Mr. Scarface and loves to kick it with her husband and family (all caps). Nikki writes, "i am writing in concerns of the new crack cocaine law it should only apply for the young mens and womens,that's been locked up in federal prison fo r5years or better." Hate to break it to you Nikki, this article has nothing to do with crack cocaine, thanks for playing. 


Our next contestant is Mark, who is best known for actually knowing how to use Facebook privacy settings, though I was able to learn that he is in fact male. Mark writes, "Now all these jobs are TAKEN by fucking ILLEGALS...;] Now the "O"regime wants to fingerprint and register morgage brokers... NOT the fucking illegals...". Hard to tell what you said there Mark, but I take it you don't like immigrants. Your right, clearly illegal immigrants with no official status as a U.S. citizen are going to make it and become CEO. I mean, duh.

Next up is Michael Mwendwa Cartman who writes, "Good stuff there, i wanna invite y'all to Kenya and experience the diverse culture we have here. Animal and bird view, awesome climate and people. Hola". Not much to add there. Suddenly want to visit Kenya though. Hola.


Now we have Sam from Fresno, CA. He is a peace keeper whose current employer is God and his profile is of him drinking and playing guitar, so I will assume he is unemployed. Sam writes, "they can eat my dick..." Ooh, I think your boss would have something to say about that. Theoretically they could though, and you could charge. This is how economics works Sam and the profession of prostitution is one of the oldest in the world. Thanks for playing.

For our last contestant I used CTRL+F and the word ""Christ". I found Joel who claims to teach college in Lagos, Nigeria and enjoys Lil Wayne and the Oprah Winfrey Show. He had three comments.

I NO, RIGHT?!

This brings me to my final point. On these comment threads you have several types of people, spammers, all cappers, bible thumpers, grammar failures and just dumb people. So I decided to join the conversation as all of the above.

BY MY SHIT

hAV A NICE WEEKEND!1

Smile And Greet The Customer

Do you have a friend who does or has worked at Walmart? Were they trained for the register at any point? Was it a computer-based learning course? Please say the phrase that is the title of this post to them. Their instinctual response will probably be to scream and rip out your jugular because that phrase starts out the steps for EVERY SINGLE LESSON.

The cashier lessons haven't mattered much to me, as most days I man The Door. Yes the capitals are necessary, because I am actually capable of hearing them every time The Door is mentioned. See in Lawn and Garden you either work register or watering plants or zoning/stocking shelves or you work at The Door. Working at The Door means you stay at The Door, you never leave The Door for any reason, ANY REASON. You smile and greet the customer on the way in and check receipts on the way out. If you do any more than that so help you God there will be consequences. Occasionally an on-duty police officer even shows up to make sure that The Door is being manned all proper like.

I am good at my job. I am brilliant at standing around and doing nothing, not moving, and I am very prompt about taking and utilizing my fifteen minute breaks as well as my hour lunches. This apparently makes me an ideal employee. If there is anything they hate more than anything else it's overtime, and let me tell you, you will not catching me working more than I am asked to.

The most awkward part of my job is the stragglers, people who end up stuck at The Door with me, waiting for a  ride or chewing tobacco or something. The conversation is usually about the weather, perpetually about the weather actually. In fact it's so often about the weather that it's almost maddening. It feels like we still haven't evolved above pointing at the sky and discussing the obvious.

Oh not rain again...

Though sometimes they get stuck longer. Then they start discussing religion or politics, and I am supposed to be the positive feelings door greetery guy. I tend to just agree with what they're saying, even if I disagree, because I'm just there to make them feel good. If I argued with them they can report me, if I agree with them, they come back. The problem will only arise if they ever talk to each other.

Person: Are you a man of faith.
Me: I'm baptized Catholic.
Person: Faith is important, theres not enough in this world today.
Me: People are really falling away from religion.
Person: I know it. If it wasn't for religion I know I would have died of the stroke I had last year. I just know that God pulled me through.
Me: Faith is very important

Later that day...
Person: You know what the problem is with the world, religion.
Me: Tell me about it.
Person: People ignoring the objective information in front of them and embracing some deity, fighting in the name of some imaginary person.
Me: Too many wars are fought over religion.

I'm an atheist, though technically I didn't lie anywhere above. I know a lot of ill people who attribute faith to their healing, and killing in the name of religion does not sit well with me, but still. It gets worse.

Person: You've got all these people out there who are perfectly capable of working and choose not to.
Me: People don't know the meaning of an honest days work anymore.
Person: They're lazy, this whole generation is lazy. It's the drugs I tell you. They need to crack down harder on that.
Me: They are the bane of society.

Later that day...
Person: They need to legalize marijuana already.
Me: It's a war on the culture, not on the drug.
Person: Exactly, it makes no sense to spend all this money on a drug war when they could reap the benefits of taxation and regulation.
Me: Not to mention the boon to the snack food industry.

Then there is just the weird ones...

Person: I miss the twist tops.
Me: The twist tops?
Person: For beer, you have to use a bottle opener now.
Me: I see.
Person: I makes it harder to open when I'm driving.
Me: They might be on to something.
Person: And they don't fit in the cupholders right.
Me: Still think they're onto something.
Person: I can still get them off, but it's hard when driving.
Me: You really shouldn't be opening them when you're driving.
Person: What am I supposed to do, I don't got a passenger to open them.
Me: ...
Person: Got you there.

Later that day...
Person: You hear all these people saying they aren't capable of killing a person. Of course they're capable of it.
Me: It just depends on the moment I guess.
Person: Not even, I bet I could kill someone right now and sleep soundly tonight. As long as I can justify it to me, that is all that matters.
Me: ...
Person: I bet this automatic wood chopper could do some serious damage to someone.

I would like to note that these are real conversations with customers who've chosen to remain anonymous, paraphrased and shortened, but the content remains. Anyway, I plan to stay at The Door, you meet a lot of interesting people. Plus the weather has been nice lately, or so I'm told...

Twigs in Glass

There has been a disturbing thought plaguing my mind for months now. It is a result of the "Nobody knows how to make a pencil" speech we heard in economics. It is the realization that all of the man-made things around me are, in fact, made by some human being or machine out there. All of it. I say disturbing because when this realization hits full swing, the whole world seems to be utterly mad.

This all culminated into a recent trip to the grand opening of my local McDonalds. There my brother and I sat down and enjoyed the greasy goodness, until I began to look at the decor. I saw that the new establishment was aiming for a modern cafe-style set up. The thing that caught my eye was the booth dividers.

They were sheets of glass, with twigs cast into them.

Pictured: McDonalds vaguely similar to ours from Attleboro, MA.

Not Pictured: Twigs in Glass...

At first I shrugged it off as modern artistic bull shit, but then I thought about it. I thought about it in the context of the previously mentioned disturbing thought. I realized that several other McDonalds must have these, I doubt they're hand made, nothing at McDonalds is. So what I'm realizing is somewhere there is a facility, with a room or a machine or something, that specializes in placing aesthetically pleasing twigs inside of sheets of glass. There has to be multiple people working there, and thats what they do. They are professional twigcasters.

I began to consider all the implications of this. What do these people claim to do at High School reunions?

Man 1: So I've went on to do some venture capitalism, pretty profitable stuff. Also been dabbling in Real Estate. What have you been up to?

Man 2: Oh me, I put twigs... in glass.

Man 1: ...

Then I imagine the board meeting, where some young hot shot industrial designer, had to convince a company to set up a division dedicated to the art of placing small aesthetically pleasing twigs inside of glass. The presentation was a hit and an ad hits the newspaper, asking for people with knowledge of glass casting and an overly zealous passion for twigs. Machines were designed, a workplace protocol established. Engineers worked on making the most cost-effective twig-glassification device.

Then when this Caribou McDonalds was built, some office assistant in McDonalds called and made an order for 8 sheets of twigged glass. The order was processed and loaded onto a truck and driven, to Northern Maine and dropped off where construction workers opened the box and I'll be damned if one of them didn't ask "What the hell are these for?".

Are the twigs real? If they are real that opens a whole new vista of ridiculousness. They have to find a perfect variety of twig producing plant. At some point there was probably an executive, calling a biologist, wondering about twig genetic engineering. Can we make them straighter? Fewer defects? More... twiggy.

It also means that the holy grail of twig-related careers is listed in the classifieds somewhere, "Twig Inspector". The person's job is to spend the whole day being judgmental, of twigs...

What sort of education does that involve? Would one consider it a job or a career? Then I can't help picture him being one of those passionate workers, someone who ends up taking their work home with them. One day there is a family BBQ, everyone is out back, listening to music, eating grilled meats and assorted salads. Children are laughing and playing in a sprinkler. The adults sit around a small fire pit, drinking wine and talking about the good ol' days. Then a twig falls from the tree. The man, we'll call him Randy, looks at it from his $10.00 lawn chair from the local Walmart and says,

Randy: That twig is rubbish, I'd never put it in glass.

Sharon: Honey don't bring work home with you.

Steve: Randy, your job is oddly specific.

Randy: SHUT UP STEVE.

A fight breaks out, a friendship is shattered. Years down the road his obsession with twigs leads to a divorce. The children can't stand him, as his twig-related Christmas presents prove lackluster as they grow older. At the age of 47 he is found dead in a pile of twigs just off the highway. No one knows how he or the twigs got there or what killed him, as an autopsy is deemed unnecessary. Case closed, so ends the life of Randy, Twig Inspector. His gravestone is placed in a cemetery five miles out of the town he grew up in. It is placed under a tree that is known for shedding twigs. The gardener at the cemetery has always been annoyed by this tree. Then one day as it began to rain and the gardener began to pack up his equipment, a lone woman arrives, she is dressed all in black. She stands in front of the grave for five minutes, only letting a single tear slide down her cheeks in that time. She then leaves a bouquet of the most perfect twigs ever gathered, some from Randy's own collection. She kisses her hand and lays the hand reverently on the gravestone. She gets inside her maroon Subaru and rides off. She was never identified, never seen again. The gardener made the decision not to bother picking up the twigs next to the stone from there on out.

All of this flashes through my mind and I take another bite out of my Angus Bacon and Cheese. I talked about it for a half an hour with my brother. This train of thought has plagued me for days. More question keep popping up. Is there a lobbying group for twig-related industries? What kind of regulations must a twig glassification operation deal with? Are there more than one twigging glass company? Is the competition stiff? Are they geographically near each other? Do they ever play each other in competitive sports? Are there small towns out there supported by their twig and glass industries? I can go on. The point is, I'm going mad, and I blame Milton Friedman.

Note: I did a quick Google search, there is a website called twigsandglass.net. Not related to the twigs IN glass mentioned in this article, but I giggled none the less.