French Fries S'il Vous Plaît!

My time in Japan has been filled with many unpleasant experiences, most often due to the vileness of Japanese cuisine. As a result of this, I have been forced to scour the countryside looking for misplaced or forgotten food items that the Japanese have overlooked as too "foreign" or too "delicious." These searches have been met with mixed results, notably in the realm of potato chips. Despite this, I have been able to find one potato product whose very essence continues to amaze and astound all of my senses and emotions. Of course I am referring to the wonderful deep fried miracle, the french fry. The salty snack has an almost uncanny ability to be found in every nook and cranny of the planet, including rural Japan. Some may say that its increasing prevalence throughout the world is the natural result of American culture's parasitic encroachment into foreign markets. Of course I find this to be utterly ridiculous, and anyone who has experienced the pure ecstasy that comes with french fry consumption will surely agree with my opinion. Therefore, this blog will be devoted to heralding the age of the french fry, as well as providing a forum for me to share my own stories. It is through this particular blog that I hope to convert those who have unwisely chosen to avoid the french fry due to their desire to maintain good health, and the ability to move without sweating.

I can't remember the first time I ever ate a french fry, but I'm sure it was an experience that I would never forget. The one thing that I do know is that the first time sent me on a path of almost constant longing for deep fried deliciousness. This addiction resulted in a childhood spent chasing the golden rabbit, and even caused my weight to balloon to a whopping 100 lbs before the age of 12. As I entered my teenage years I eagerly awaited the opportunity to enter the true bliss that can only come through employment at a local fast food restaurant. At 16 I got my wish and was given the truly prestigious opportunity to offer my services among the royal retinue of the "Burger King." I can honestly say that this was probably the happiest time of my life, and that if I hadn't had a desire to enjoy a better job somewhere else, I would still be there today. The next couple years were spent pursuing childish and irresponsible dreams, notably attending university and shaping my personality. Despite this, university provided me with a seemingly rare opportunity to travel. I immediately realized the endless potential inherent in traveling, and began to prepare to go to France for the explicit purpose of french fry consumption.

Before I continue any further, I feel that I should warn my readers about the apparently dangerous repercussions you may experience if you read any further. I have decided to use this blog as a forum to blow wide open the lie that has surrounded the french fry. Therefore, if you choose to lead a life in ignorance and free from constant persecution, I suggest you stop reading and wait for next week’s entry. For those of you seeking the truth, I am grateful for your resilience. For years, there has been a shroud of mystery surrounding the french fry and its country of origin. I am here to tell you that I have conclusive proof that the french fry is... from France. Many francophobes have argued for years that the french fry is most likely Belgian. Fortunately an exhaustive report carried out by the American Congress in 2002 proved the truth of my claim. In fact they went so far as to rename french fries, "freedom fries", as a way to express their new found freedom from the misconceptions surrounding its origin. It was with this secret knowledge that I traveled to France and paid homage at the historic site where the french fry was created. I found the obscure shrine named after the creator, Mack Donald, and proceeded to give thanks for his gifts. It was then that I achieved enlightenment, and my mission became clear. I would travel the world eating fries, and spreading the message of their deliciousness. I left the temple with a clear conscious, and a resolute mission.

Ever since that day in 2003 with Father Donald, I have worked tirelessly to preach the good news. Through my work, numerous "McDonald's" shrines have opened all over the world. It seems people can't resist the amazing message propagated by the temples, and I can assure you that I am completely responsible. Although, I think I have done a fine job, I am beginning to realize that the french fry is bigger than me. I recently ate at a Gusto restaurant (considered by many to have the best food in Japan), and discovered that the fries tasted exactly like those that you can receive at an American steakhouse! It was then that I knew that french fries did not need me to spread the message, and that "McDonald's" was not the only place one needed to go to find enlightenment. I even had discovered a small enclave of french fry appreciation and production in a supermarket in Daito. It was then clear to me that my mission was over. I had spent over three years of my life filling out my mission, but now it must end. I have chosen to complete my mission at the end of the year, but not before preaching one last message. The french fry is omnipotent, and omnipresent. It is the alpha and the omega, the light on a dark night. It is made from the potato, the gift that Jesus first gave to the Hebrews. It is baptized in oil, as a sign of its rebirth and regenerative abilities. It is perfect in every way and I hope that all of you will succumb to the wonderful taste and happiness that the french fry brings. I know that it has given me the gift of eternal happiness, at the relatively small cost of my complexion, weight, and health. I think you will all see that if you give life to the french fry, it will shape your life in a similar fashion.

Silver Tuna Tonight!

If you don't recognize the title of this blog, then it is with great regret that I inform you that all of the achievements in your life are obsolete when compared to this grave and terrible oversight. For those of you who are aware of the title's meaning, it is with great joy that I remind everyone that the time of year for viewing "Home Alone" is once again upon us. I was fortunate enough to view the movie last week, and I can say that the film has not lost any of its genius. The graphic violence inflicted upon the two burglars is just as humorous today as it was when I first saw it all those years ago. In addition to "Home Alone", I have had the good fortune to enjoy a repeat viewing of the Tim Allen comedy classic, "The Santa Clause". A true work of art, Tim Allen's attempt at holiday cheer has stood the test of time unscathed. Despite this, I feel there are many people who have failed to give these films the merit they deserve. Therefore, it is with a strong purpose that I have decided to write this blog to convince unbelievers to include these movies in their hierarchy of holiday films. Therefore, I will be devoting this week’s entry to two of the greatest pieces of human expression in recorded history.

I will begin by discussing Tim "The Tool Man" Allen's magnum opus, "The Santa Clause." This movie was issued to most middle class Caucasians, and chances are that you have a copy of it in your home. The movie starts with an Al Borland-less Tim Allen basking in the accolades of a successful professional career. Despite this, things could not be worse for the "Tool Man". The divorced father of one is quickly losing the love and respect of his son, and it only gets worse after Tim soops up his oven to give it "aaargh aaargh aaargh, more power", and burns Christmas dinner. The hijinks begin after Tim murders Santa Claus and puts on his suit. After (for some reason) deciding to fly around the world and deliver presents, he returns to the North Pole where he meets Bernard. Bernard devastates Tim by informing him that since he wore the suit, he now has to be Santa Claus. Tim is understandably livid about the turn of events, and proceeds to inform Bernard that the actor playing him will be referred to as "Bernard" for the rest of his professional career in film. The whole experience ends with Tim and his son waking up the next morning in their beds. Throughout the next year, Tim drives his son to the brink of mental stability by claiming that the experience was only a dream. Despite this, it is obvious that Tim is beginning to take on some of the physical characteristics of Santa Claus. Confused and without direction, Tim decides to consult Wilson. Wilson encourages Tim to stop lying to his son, (thus saving the boy from certain insanity) and embrace his new career. The movie concludes with scenes of Bernard eating turkey, love expressed through the burning of child-custody papers, and an adult male receiving an Oscar Mayer weenie whistle. While my memory of this movie may paint it in a neutral light, I would encourage all to pick up this movie and share it with your family during the holiday season. After all, there is nothing that sets my heart a flutter more than convicted drug dealer Tim Allen entering the homes of young children with toys that may or may not have been altered to give them, aaaarrhhhh...eeeehhhh, MORE POWER.

The next and final film has a special place in my heart. When I left home for university, I made a point of including this VHS in my bag, just in case the time came to cozy up with Kevin McCallister as he defended his home from the notorious "Wet Bandits." As many of you have guessed, the movie I'm referring to is the holiday masterpiece "Home Alone." While easily recognized by most intelligent people as one of the greatest movies of all time, it is during the holiday season that the film really shows its true potential. Many people have attempted to undermine this movie by pointing out supposed "weak" points in the plot, but I am here to tell you that truth is stranger than fiction. In fact, "Home Alone" is based on the true story of Kevin McConelly, a boy whose family went to Paris for 6 months before realizing he was missing. While they were gone, Kevin was forced to team up with a serial killer (the South Bend Shovel Slayer) to stop some petty thieves. While the Christmas classic ends with the S.B.S.S. reuniting with his long lost family, in real life he ended up killing Kevin and using his body to salt the sidewalks. Despite the sinister history behind the story, the movie does a good job of ignoring the real life murder of Kevin, and instead focusing on the attempted murder of the burglars, Harry and Marv. We cheer Kevin has he inflicts third degree burns on Harry's head, and maims Marv's feet beyond repair. All the while, a part of us hopes that he will kill one of them so that future burglars will leave our VCR's and copies of "Angels with Filthy Souls" alone. In conclusion, I would like to applaud "Home Alone" for promoting the traditional family values of violence and profanity. This film has given us such great lines as, "Kevin you are such a disease", "I'm gonna chop off your cajones, and boil them in motor oil," and of course, "Look what you did, you little jerk!" This accurate representation of the family unit inspires me to instill in my future children the positive aspects inherent in crude language and life-threatening assault.

In conclusion, I would like to thank Hollywood for making such uplifting and inspirational holiday cinema. Nothing compliments the true meaning of Christmas more than violence and destruction. Therefore, I encourage everyone who wishes to cement their place in the materialism and commercialism of Christmas to go out and buy these two films. Many believe that true meaning behind Christmas is lost to the modern world. Through the annual viewings of these two brilliant films, it may be possible to return, albeit partially, to the way the holiday was originally intended.

On Marriage...

Before I begin this entry, I would like to apologize for my tardiness in writing this week’s blog. I have been suffering from an intense case of writers block based on the fact that my life in Japan has entered a routine rife with uninteresting details and standard frustrations. As a result, the majority of my recent entries have been lacking in some of the (intended) humor that I had originally planned, and instead have focused on the airing of my own personal views and ideas. Therefore, the purpose of this particular blog will be two-fold. First, I would like to make a call to anyone who still has time to read my reflections, to please leave suggestions for future writings in the comments section found at the end of each blog. I assure you that that I will give equal consideration to all ideas and look forward to seeing how many submissions I receive. Also, I would like to make it perfectly clear that the relative lameness of any idea should not be a deterrent for posting advice, my acceptance of any proposal should be ample proof of my dire need for new material. Finally, the second part of this blog relates to my previously mentioned penchant for using my blog as a forum to express my views on particular issues and ideas prevalent in the western world. Therefore I would like to continue by relating my own personal beliefs concerning the most sacred symbols of adulthood and success, marriage.

In a period of my life when everyone and their mother are getting married, I am beginning to realize that the questions concerning my own matrimonial plans will increase. It is in response to this question that I wish to briefly reveal my own feelings concerning the institution. Last summer I attended my first wedding. I agreed to go not because of any real desire to see the event, but because of loyalty to my friend and a desire to see people who I had not had the fortune to visit in some time. I arrived at the wedding with a sense of foreboding, which was confirmed when I was given the opportunity to bear witness to the overblown extravaganza that seems to be typical of American wedding ceremonies. I tried my best to enjoy the event (mostly due to my friendship with the groom), but I found everything to be incredibly unnecessary and thoroughly decadent. It was with equal disdain that I look forward to the plethora of weddings requiring my attendance that await me in the near future. Now, before I continue, I want to make clear that my feelings concerning wedding ceremonies bear no reflection on the love that exists between the two major participants. The purpose of this blog is not the call into question "love" or any of the emotions that generally come with it. I am truly happy for all of those who succumb to love and I wish the best for all of those who take the plunge. In any event, the experience galvanized my opposition to the institution of marriage and caused me to begin to devote serious thought to its place in my life.

Love exists. The seemingly selfless acts perpetrated in the name of love are countless and bear witness to the reality of an emotion that causes us to truly care about and cherish another person. Of course there are some who would argue that the idealized form of love so often hoped for rarely shows itself, and that it is fundamentally against nature to spend a lifetime with only one person. Reality shows us that only the ablest of men and women are capable of denying the urge of nature to procreate often and with numerous partners, i.e. cheating. Of course this fact does not negate the veracity of love, but instead opposes the common western views on morality that are primarily based on particular religious beliefs. According to the NCHS (National Center for Health Statistics), 7.5 out of every 1000 people were married in the United States during 2005. These marriages were no doubt based on a genuine belief that their mutual love was boundless, and therefore eternal. Unfortunately, 3.6 out of every 1000 people filed for divorce that same year, almost half. The question remains, is it a problem with love, or the flaws inherent in it the institution of marriage? It is a fact that the divorce rate has risen in the later half of the 20th century. Many point to the breakdown of the family unit coupled with waning religious influence on the masses as possible causes for this alarming statistic. Unfortunately, this data is misleading due to the fact that the often lauded family unit was rarely a happy one, and that "romantic" marriages of the past were less due to genuine feelings of love, and more as a means to provide economic stability for each of the partners.
(Note* the divorce statistics that I cited can be reviewed at the CDC's website at, http://www.cdc.gov/nchs/fastats/divorce.htm)

Fortunately the above reasons will not affect those rare couples who have discovered the precious gift of true love. To them I would like to pose the question concerning the relevancy of marriage from a purely romantic and rational standpoint. Before I begin, I would like to reveal the shocking truth (to those of you that know me) that I am far from romantic. I will admit that many of my attempts at romance have been at best half-hearted and at worse, absurd. Despite this, I still believe that I have an eye for what it is, and registering your love with a local government office is far from passionate acts usually equated with true love. One of the common arguments in favor of marriage, is that the insurance and tax breaks that come with it not only secure the married couple, but these financial breaks also help provide much needed financial assistance for any children that result from the nuptials. These reasons hark back to the economic reasons for marriage that I previously discussed, and also make the case that some of the people who have chastised me for not wanting to get married were making their decisions on reasons that were not entirely based on love. On the other hand, there are many who claim that the public celebration of love shown at a wedding ceremony is not because of the economic concessions. They argue that marriage in this fashion is incredibly romantic due to the fact that you and your partner are announcing to the world an undying and eternal love (for 50% of the population). I would respond rather cynically, that I can tell all of those who are important to me that I love a particular person. I don't need an elaborate and expensive ceremony to truly love my partner. In fact, it seems that the wedding ceremony is little more than vanity project veiled by outdated religious tradition.

Many people have shunned some modern ideas of "open" marriages and permanent non-marital relationships. They argue that these new approaches are inherently flawed, and that they leave the door open for vice. Many conservative thinkers condemn these arrangements and cite often misquoted and mistranslated piece of religious text to justify their argument. In turn, it is these people who usually fall victim to the "sins of the flesh", and become the very statistic they preached against. In conclusion, I want to tell everyone that I love my girlfriend and that I intend to stay with her as long as I can sustain my feelings for her. Despite this, I don't feel that our love has to be validated with a certificate and rings. I also feel that what we have is more significant than tax breaks and joint insurance plans, more important than ceremony and pompous precedence. I urge all of those who feel that they truly love their partner to not fall victim to tradition, but instead to cherish each other and create your own. Only after escaping the economic and societal pressures that marriage imposes on a couple to remain together, will it be possible for love to be the only glue needed for a couple to spend a lifetime in a union of true and legitimate bliss.

Tales From Home Pt. 3: Are You Ridin'?

As with any experience of youth, there are always events that you look back on with a mix of nostalgia and amusement. For me, the bus rides to and from school during my high school days is one of the few events that generate a legitimate longing for my life back in Pennsylvania. The characters I met and the events I participated in still generate feelings of delight six years since my last ride home. Therefore, I felt that it was my duty to share with the world many of the stories that occurred, as well as elaborating on the wide range of personalities present. I will begin with a brief synopsis of the characters and the finally I will share some of my favorite stories. I would also like to warn the reader that many of these accounts occurred during my younger days, and therefore some things may appear to be stupid. I can only respond by confirming your opinion, but I believe that the comedic value of the stories will shine through nonetheless.

To begin, I would like to go over the characters that helped ensure that the events on the bus would live throughout the ages. First there was me, my friend Ric, and occasionally Jesse (To see a more detailed story concerning them, please look at Tales From Home Pt. 2). Next there was...
-Dr. Rochucknick, a.k.a. Charlie, a guy who thought he was cool, (and was interestingly treated that way by most, including me)but wasn't. His physical stature was eerily similar to Sonic the Hedgehog villain Dr. Robotnik.
-Clint "Clit" Snyder, a big fat guy with hearing aides, who screamed anytime someone got near him or his aides, needless to say we spent many days slapping Clint's ears. He sucked a lot and spent most of his early life wrestling Ric for what he believed to be the ultimate prize, the very back seat of the bus.
-"Best Friend" a.k.a. Teeth and Gums. This fat piece of crap had the second highest male voice I have ever heard. We made fun of him for loving his mom and for being poor. He always had cheese in his teeth, thus his flattering nickname. His real name has unfortunately been lost to the ages. There wasn't anyone on the bus who even claimed to be his "best friend", it was a name he had given himself in order to tell his mother that he indeed had friends.
-B.J., an incredibly violent young man with a seemingly endless supply of money. His parents attempted to buy his love due to their absence, and therefore he relished in the fact that he could be wasteful without reprecussions. He always seemed to color his clothes with permanent markers, usually drawing skulls. His claim to fame was the seemingly careless destruction of his own personal items. He once threw a Nintendo 64 controller into a tree out of frustration, and to my knowledge, it is still there today. He is also famous for shooting Caleb point blank in the face with a paint ball gun.
-Caleb Mitchell, a child whose constant beatings from B.J. ensured a less than stable mental condition. This poor kid was locked out of the house by his parents whenever they wanted to watch "Star Trek". He was forced to spend most of his life away from home, and his slow mental condition resulted in numerous hilarious moments for us. He may also be the ugliest boy I've ever seen as well, as a blond afro and big yellow teeth don't usually stimulate positive responses.

-Matt Blystone a.k.a. "Larry Guido", the guy who coined the nickname "Teeth and Gums" (see above). He is famous for his farsighted humor, as well as the famous act of peeing off a bridge on people.
-The Gay Ghost Ben Giles a.k.a. Window Boy, we never knew this kids name, so we made one up for him, thus Ben Giles. The door to his house was permanently sealed, so the poor unfortunate youth used his window to enter and exit his home. Naturally we made fun of him a lot.
-Jason Warner, this kid only sat with us because he got on the bus earlier than we did. We all hated him, and before Caleb was around, we spent our time beating him up. Rumors abound, but it's possible that he may have had more than just a "friendly" relationship with his dog, Oscar.
-Finally, the star of this particular blog. J-rod, a.k.a. Jared Ward. This boy had the highest male voice I've ever heard. J-rod also had intense anger issues, and absolutely loved weaving profanity into his rants about his mother. I have a feeling that this particular person has killed someone or that he himself has been killed since I last saw him.

All of these characters were forced to come together every day in order to return home after a grueling day of high school. As a result, many interesting occurrences transpired. In order to give the reader the most complete representation of the type of activities that took place on the bus, I have chosen three stories that I believe adequately relate the type of personalities present. Therefore I have chosen to tell one about Clint, Caleb, and finally J-rod. I hope that these three brief accounts can fully relate the joy that I experienced on the bus.

Clint was constantly angry at us. We always used to make fun of his weight, his (also fat) sister's penchant for eating chocolate covered jelly-filled meatballs dipped in butter gravy, and of course his hearing aids. We hated him since we were younger, but his post-pubescent weight and height made him believe that he now had the right to stand up to our insults! The bus rides were a constant struggle between the majority of us, and the 200 lb. Clint. In one memorable shouting match complete with the usual abuse of his hearing aides, the making fun of his ugly face, as well as other assorted insults, someone shouted a Clint, "You are such a dick!" Clint, whose weight could only be equaled by his lack of intelligence, shouted back, "Well, I'd rather be one than have one!!" The hilarity that ensued at Clint's expense was unparalleled. Unfortunately for Clint, we were high school students, so that short moment of stupidity would never be forgotten by us or him. I saw him a few years ago on a brief visit home, and he greeted me only with a middle finger.

Caleb Mitchell was a very stupid boy. Considerably younger than most of us, his life had been one of constant assault by B.J. In fact the beatings had become so regular, that B.J. would often punch Caleb for our amusement. It seems that the frequent thrashings had slowed down Caleb's pain receptors, so much that there was a marked delay from the period of pain to the moment that his brain responded. During one famous occasion, our bus was going over a rather rough road (as were all the roads in my home town), and naturally there was a lot of bouncing. On one particularly large bump Caleb came up and hit his head (rather hard if I remember correctly) on the glass window. His face went from the usual placid confusion to extreme pain in a lightning fast four seconds. Caleb uttered the now famous lines, "ummm, ummm, ouch?" Afterwards, Caleb fell down in his seat to nurse the bump that had no doubt formed on his forehead. This event helped solidify Caleb's popularity on our bus, and we attempted to replicate the experiment through constant beatings.

Finally, last but certainly not least is J-Rod. As mentioned previously, J-Rod vehemently hated his mother and her restrictions on his Playstation playing. One of his most famous lines being, "My mother f*****g mother only let me play my f*****g Playstation for three f*****g hours!!! She is such a c**k sucking b***h!! To which we would all laugh. Despite this, one his famous stories has become the stuff of legend. One day, one of the girls who sat near the front of the bus was making fun of J-rod for his incredibly high voice. The gist of the conversation dealt with the existence of J-rod's testicles. As he got angrier, J-rod began to do his trademark clenched fists and red face scream. Finally, in a fit of rage, J-rod dropped his pants, exposing his all too real testicles. Jiggling them in an undoubtedly taunting fashion, J-rod then screamed, "Oh Yeah!, Suck on these b***h!!" That was the last appearance of J-rod on the bus, as he was no doubt permanently suspended. Despite this, the brilliance of the execution of such a ballsy (pun intended) act deserves applause.

Unfortunately it would take to much time to relate all of the amazing stories that occurred on the bus. J-rod stories alone could occupy an entire entry, and it is with regret that I do not have the time to further document the adventures of Matt Blystone, Dr. Rochucknik, The Gay Ghost, or countless others. Perhaps in the future I will once again mine the archives of my memory and present the world with other stories pertaining to the wonderful hour and a half I spend on the bus on my commute to and from school. Until then, I hope that the stories above will suitably placate the urge for childhood insults and violence, that we all desire from time to time.