The Year of the Dishonest Corn Chip

(a brief note:  I’ve been battling a bad case of the flu, and the following was written under the influence of a fever and an unprescribed mix of several over the counter cold and flu medications)

Riddle of the day:  why will next May 8th be mistaken for a dishonest corn chip?  (* – answer below)

From the numbers department:  The upcoming calendar year will, as every year does, have some interesting dates for fans of number sequences.     Among the more interesting facts:

  • Although the two digit representation of the year (13) is a prime number, the four digit year (2013) is not (3 * 11  * 61 = 2013).   This is why anyone who is celebrating their 61st birthday on March 11th of this year should automatically be named king of the world, or at least be given a 25% off discount at any Midas muffler shop.
  • The year 2013 is the first year this millennium (if you accept that the millennium began on January 1st, 2001) that will not have any dates where the month, day, and two digit year are all the same numeric value  (1/1/01, 2/2/02, 3/3/03, 4/4/04, 5/5/05, 6/6/06. 7/7/07, 8/8/08, 9/9/09, 10/10/10, 11/11/11, 12/12/12).  Note also that with 13 being a prime number AND greater than 12, there won’t be any dates where the month times the day equals the year (last year had an abundance of these:  1/12/12, 2/6/12, 3/4/12, 4/3/12, 6/2/12, and 12/1/12) This is good news, as it should result in a significant decrease in the volume of e-mail and Facebook postings about how wonderfully special such dates are.
  • * The answer to the riddle:  A dishonest corn chip might also be called a “fibbin’ nacho”, not to be confused with the famous mathematician Leonardo Fibonacci, who derived the famous number sequence that is a key plot component to the novel “The DaVinci Code”  (Inspired by the sales posted by Dan Brown’s yarn, the next novel I write will use a more famous number sequence (5,8,8,2,3,hundred, known to scholars as the famous “Empire Carpet” sequence)   as a key plot component  The reason May 8 will be confused with a dishonest corn chip (as well as a dishonest fascist, (a.k.a., a “fibbin’ Nazi”) ) will be that it is the only date in the year who’s month, day and two digit year values (5/8/13) represent a segment of the Fibonacci sequence (0,1,1,2,3,5,8,13,21,34, …).   This will mark the first such occurrence in more than five years, since March 5, 2008, and the last time it will occur in more than eight years, the next time being August 13, 2021.   Because of this, anyone who turns 13 years old on May 8th should also be given a 25% discount at any Midas muffler shop.

 I hope that you found this as fun and entertaining to read as I did to write, because it’d be nice to know there is someone out there who is as big a nerd as I am. 

Please note the Drivel by Dave remains an independently funded site, with no influence from or debt owed to any corporate sponsor.  We adhere to the highest levels of ethics and integrity, and those looking for unbiased views will continue to be able to trust us, just like they can trust the Midas touch for all of their automotive repair needs.

Checking it Twice

It’s Christmas time again.   Having trouble finding just the right thing for that special someone this year? No worry – Drivel by Dave has been making a list!  Check out these latest additions to our catalog.  These are all new inventions that have patents pending:

  1.  For those looking to lose a few pounds:  A six pack of my new low fat tapioca, called, “Pudding it Lightly”
  2. For the overly sincere ecologist on your list:  The DBD 2100:  An automobile engine that is fueled by shattered dreams and disillusionment (capable of getting up to 50 MPF (miles per failure))
  3. For the collector:  A new coin:  the 43 cent piece (with the likeness of Charles Nelson Reilly on one side)
  4. For those who like gadgets (like a GPS): An OSO (“Over States the Obvious”) – an interactive device you place on the dashboard of your car that points out painfully obvious and depressing facts (like, “You took that corner a little fast”, “You know, you aren’t getting any younger” and “That shirt has to go.  Who dressed you this morning?”)
  5. For the pet enthusiast:  A thought translator for gold fish.  Never wonder what your goldfish is thinking again.
  6. For the kids:   A “Tickle-Me-Peter Francis Geraci” doll – squeeze it’s hand and hear a random interpretation of the latest bankruptcy laws
  7. For the lawn enthusiast:  a hydrochloric acid sprinkler system
  8. For dog lovers:  Beef flavored treats infected with the Rabies virus
  9. For the bureaucrats:  A pen and pencil set with a twist:  the pen uses lead, and the pencil ink
  10. For the traveling food enthusiast on your list:  A Teflon flying pan – powered by a pair of jet engines, it’s machine washable and has been tested and proven capable of frying bacon at altitudes of 30,000 feet
  11. For the outoors enthusiast:  a can of Instant Grizzly Bear: Just add water, play dead, and hope for the best.
  12. For the history buff:  The Stovepipe Hat Stovepipe:  Be thinkin’ Lincoln every time you put a log in your woodstove with the stovepipe that looks just like the hat Lincoln wore
  13. The Insurance Salesman Canary – a small yellow bird you send first into a cocktail party to detect the presence of insurance salesmen.  If the bird lives, you know it is safe to enter.  If the bird dies, then there is an insurance salesman present, and you should get out of there as fast as you can, or else be prepared to debate term versus whole life for the rest of the night.

Order now while supplies last.  Void where prohibited by law.

Fear and Hatred and Profits

(I wrote this in reaction to something I saw posted on Facebook yesterday that said essentially “bad people do bad things, there’s nothing we can do.”   I’ve debated posting it here until I finally said fuck it)

As I walk through
This wicked world
Searching for light in the darkness of insanity.
I ask myself
Is all hope lost?

         –  Nick Lowe

Friday, December 14, 2012:  The world is unrecognizable.  

Maybe those Mayan calendars predicting the end of the world were right after all. When insanity rains over innocence, the structure of the world starts to fall apart, and everything we know to be true and real and important is torn.   The world isn’t the world anymore.   It’s beginning to look more like Hell every day.

No place is safe.  We’ve had shootings in temples, grocery stores, movie theatres and, just in the past few days, shopping malls and elementary schools.  Think about that for a moment – temples and elementary schools.  Places of worship and learning.   Grocery stores and shopping malls.  Centers of sustenance and commerce.   These are elemental components of any civilized society.  They may have been home to violence in other countries, but in the United States?

What’s to be done?  There will be much debate in the coming days.  Do we banish all guns forever?  Or do we arm everybody?  Nobody knows the answer.

Maybe a place to begin is to start recognizing each other as neighbors, as fellow human beings, and start treating each other as such.   What we are seeing is the result of the intense fear and resentment and selfishness that is pounded into us day after day.   How many sick people are out there with serious mental illness going untreated?   How many needless guns are out on the street for people to “protect” themselves from those evil people with different colored skin who are just waiting to hurt them? 

The problem is money.   The NRA doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the second amendment or protecting people’s rights.   That’s all a sham – the NRA is manufacturing fear so gun companies can manufacture more guns.   And it’s working spectacularly well. 

The same is true of the people looking to cut “entitlements.”  They aren’t concerned about leaving our children with crippling debt.  That’s a sham, too.  They’re working for the health care industry, trying to eliminate Social Security and Medicare so that private companies can take them over.   The result of this will be an even larger number of the already expanding population of people with mental illness falling through the cracks, not getting the treatment they need.

This is a volatile combination that is brewing.   More mentally ill people and more guns on the street.  More fear and divisiveness being stirred up.  More anger and confusion and chaos.   More money being made.   And more rhetoric and resentment.  It’s all festering, right beneath the surface, and it’s spreading like cancer.

It’s ironic that the same people who so fervently go on and on about the rights of the unborn are the ones shrugging their shoulders today, saying “bad people do bad things, there’s nothing you can do.”  Today 20 innocent children were slaughtered.  They were between five and ten years old.   Any society that can’t protect five to ten year old children is a miserable failure.  And I don’t care what anybody says, the right of five to ten year old children to live a fear free life and not be gunned down in cold blood is infinitely more important than the right to hunt deer or to cower to manufactured fear behind the barrel of a handgun.  I’m not saying get rid of guns, I’m saying lets’ bring a little honesty and perspective to the debate.   And these children, who are loved by parents and siblings and grandparents, who’ve just started developing friendships and passions and experiencing joy and wonder, who have so much potential, are more important than those unborn fetuses we hear so much about.  If you want to be pro-life, that’s fine, but be consistent – be pro-life for those who are already living as well as those yet to be born. 

We are told to hate welfare recipients because they are cheating us.  We are told to hate immigrants because they will take our jobs.  We are told to hate people with different colored skin because they want to hurt us and take our things.  We are told to hate people with different religious beliefs because they want to blow us up and make us worship their gods.  We are even told to hate people who work for us, teachers and cops and prison guards, because they are getting better benefits than we are.  Then we scratch our heads and wonder, why all the senseless violence?

Are we really that fucking stupid?



Prodigal Son

Someday I’ll come back and they’ll be there again, the rolling fields and the small patches of woods, the corn and hayfields, whispering in the midday breeze under a fat sun in a cloudless sky.  They’ll return, and so will my youth, and I’ll run through the tall grass just because I can.  My lungs will fill with the warm afternoon air I push through, and I’ll run until I collapse in the cool shade of one of those big oaks just south of the railroad tracks. I’ll close my eyes and when I open them I’ll be dizzy from the fresh air in my lungs.   The green of the treetops will swirl with the deep blue of the sky into a kaleidoscope that twirls and spins to the rhythm of my throbbing heart.  After a while I’ll climb up on the tracks and follow them into town, past the empty backyards, the smell of freshly mown grass in my nostrils as I walk past and on to the grain elevator and feed mill.   Then I’ll be downtown, standing on the tracks in the middle of Main Street, looking south at the storefronts.  Everything will be the way it used to be; even the bank will be in that big old granite and marble building.    The Ben Franklin store, the pharmacy, the bakery, the café, the grocery store, they’ll all be how they used to be.

I’ll follow the tracks to the old train depot, and it’ll be open again, like it was when I was small, and I’ll step in and sit in the waiting area, brightly lit through big windows by the afternoon sun, dust dancing in the streams of light.  After a while, in the distance, I’ll hear the rhythmic hum of my train coming, getting closer and louder, then I’ll hear the clanging of the crossing bells on Main Street as it pulls up to  the station.   An unattended door will open and I’ll climb up and board the empty and ancient passenger car.  I’ll take a seat on one of the wooden benches next to a window.   As I sit there, the train will start to move, and I’ll wonder where it’s going to take me.  All I’ll know is that it’s not going to heaven, because heaven will be out my window, fading and vanishing.