Eternal Optimist

So it's Valentine’s Day. 

You're either enjoying this night with someone you love, or you're on the internet. Since I'm on the internet team for the (redacted) straight year, I may as well try to be productive. Today, I aim to inspire. I'm writing the advice column that no one ever sent me. I'm writing for the saddest group of people at home today: the kids with an unspoken crush. Fine, second saddest. The recently widowed are probably worse off tonight.

Unless they just met Chaz. Source.

As an eternal optimist, the lost cause is very important to me. This particular lost cause is especially close to my heart. I've lived every version of the "best friend" archetype that Hollywood has put on film. As a veteran of the both the unrequited love and undying longing games, I'm well qualified to pass some sound advice on to the next generation. As the song goes, I wish that I knew what I know now, when I was younger. The following is the first letter from Joey to the “nice guys”:

So losers, let's talk about why you're alone tonight. Let's talk about the girl.

You know which girl.

When you walk into a room she’s the first person you see. It seems like lights shine a little bit brighter around her, or does she just glow? Somehow she's in sharper focus. She makes you want to succeed, and feel like you can. She can make you laugh or cry with barely a glance. She’s a collection of contradictions. You're terrified to be around her, and starving for her when she's not near. She makes you feel witty, all while dumbfounding you. When she smiles your stomach knots up with nerves, but you also become weightless.

The two minutes it takes her to return your texts last longer than the dinosaurs roamed the Earth. You ignore your other friends. You lose sleep over her at night and day dream about her in class. This girl has unwittingly built a summer home in your subconscious. She's the most powerful person in your life. She can make you cross state lines, forget to eat dinner, and write terrible poetry. She makes you question who you really are at your very core.

She doesn't have to be classically gorgeous. You may even fight with your friends over whether or not she's pretty. This isn't an archetype thing; it's not always the prom queen. She can be Mary Jane or Lois Lane. A tom-boy or a valley-girl. It's different for everyone, and that's the point. She is the specific combination of parts that make up the person you didn't dare to dream existed. 

Now that you know who I'm talking about, I'm going to tell you what to do.

Tell her.

Tell her that she's all you think about. Tell her how much you care. Tell her you'd treat her like royalty. Tell her you're the best man for her, and you know with every fiber of your being that she's the best woman for you. Tell her you'd be incredible together. Tell her about the moment that you figured all of this out. Then tell her about all of the moments since then that have proven your theory. Tell her it’s the weirdest thing that you can't stop talking, even though you're positive you stopped breathing ten minutes ago. Tell her you've never been more certain of anything in your life.

Just tell her.

I do feel that at this point that I should warn you, it won’t work. The impassioned speech is the biggest lie Hollywood has sold us. A more fabulous fib than Clint Eastwood's accuracy, Sly Stallone's muscles, and the future having flying cars. People just don't talk that way. It doesn't matter how many times you practice your monologue in front of the mirror or in your car. When you finally find the cajones to say it to her face, you're going to skip some stuff. Your voice will falter. You'll realize halfway through that you sound like an unstoppable serial killer/stalker hybrid that was born specifically to scare this shit out of this girl.

WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME??? Source.

And even if you nailed it, she still isn't going to say what you want to hear. The reasons may be different: she's moving, she already has a boyfriend, she's only attracted to Asians... doesn't matter. The point is, for all of their terrifyingly squishy parts, women aren't really all that different from men. If she wanted to be with you as much as you wanted to be with her, the two of you would already be together. 

So why am I advising Seppuku? Kamikazi? A third Far-East term for suicide mission? I have three reasons. First: have you ever made a bad decision on purpose? I mean really sought out doing something you knew would be a negative. I'm not talking about using crystal meth or anything, just a little decision that you knew was the wrong one. Maybe you stayed up until 3AM on a school night, had a midnight snack at Mickey D’s, or Facebook creeped on an old flame. Most of the time these actions would only give you a headache, stomachache, and heartache respectively; but sometimes they can be empowering. Taking yourself in a negative direction can be the ultimate proof of free will. "Look how badly I can screw myself" may not be a battle cry to aspire to, but at least it proves you can still shout.

Ok, so you’re too smart for self-destruction on that scale? Fine. Let’s talk about honesty. If this girl thinks you’re just her BFF, then you’re lying to her. And more damagingly, you’re lying to yourself. Pretending you’re happy when you aren’t, and bottling excess emotions up isn’t healthy for you. Aside from the many terrible side-effects of stress, you’re screwing up your expectations for future relationships. Whether it’s in the form of learned helplessness, or deep seated anger and resentment; the built up emotions will sabotage you for years.

This is what you're doing to yourself. Plus, you made me explain my joke. You suck. Source.

So let’s say you’ve considered my previous points and you’re willing to deal with those consequences of hiding your true feelings. It’s cool, I’ve got an ace in the hole. The question, “What if?” The same two words that brought us the atomic bomb, are the ones that will burrow into your brain and attach themselves to her memory. Every day you see her face it will be your first thought. Long after you’ve graduated it will still be there in the back of your mind, taunting you with the thoughts of what might have been. That sadistic, masochistic, circuitous mind game is what makes “What if?” the most destructive phrase in the English language.

Also, I lied. I have one more reason for you to tell her. It’s the same reason teams throw up Hail Marys, half-court shots, or pull the goalie. It’s the thing that sustains us in our darkest hours. It’s the most important word to the eternal optimist. It’s four powerful letters that allow us to believe that everything will turn out ok.

Hope.

Machak's Six Mix:

Cracked Article of the Week start living this way today.

Meme of the Week is T-PAIN!!!

Text From Last Night of the Week is all about commitment to the joke.

The Song You Have Been Singing All Week is timely, because Community just came back.

The Song You Should Be Singing After Reading This “Never let your fear decide your fate”.

Random Fact of the Week try to look at a pretzel the same way.

Surprise Awesomeness of the Week Get ready to have your mind blown. Buffy eats at BK.

10 for '13

Welp… it’s January 27th and I’m just posting my New Year’s resolutions blog. Guess we’ll have to try for “stop procrastinating” in 2014 huh?

Part of what was slowing me down is that 2012 was a very good year for me, and I’m having trouble letting it go. Actually that’s a pretty huge understatement, 2012 was the best year of my life and I’m in a great place right now.

All that being said I want to keep moving forward, and I’m not yet where I want to be. So what follows here are my 10 resolutions for 2013. They are broken down into three categories: Steps Toward True Adulthood, Creative Endeavors, and Dental Floss. 

Steps Toward True Adulthood

Try to guess which stage on this chart my chest is as hairy as. Source.

1. Lose the weight: Over the past several years I have been dangerously close to having both a jaw line and self-esteem, (two things I have not possessed since the mid-aughts) three times. Unfortunately, as soon as I begin nearing my weight loss goals, I rest on my laurels and balloon right back up to unpleasantly plump. So my next resolution is to….

2. Keep it off: This one is pretty self-explanatory. When I get to the top of the mountain this time, I want to make camp. As opposed to immediately rolling back down to Chubbytown.

3. Get into a grown-up apt: Since my Mom and Dad retired and moved to Florida, I have been living in my best friend’s parent’s basement. They have absolutely been life-savers. This situation has allowed me to save up money, not have to pursue a third job, and eat much better food than I could afford on my own. However, I am really, really, really, ready to be a real person. After having lived in my own apartment during college, it is extremely difficult to live in someone else’s space. I could list a million little reasons why it’s hard to live in another person’s house, but there is really one main luxury of having my own spot that I truly miss. I can’t wait to be able to walk in the front door and immediately take off my pants again.

This is where you belong pants. Source.

Oh, also I live an hour from where I work, and that just blows. Which leads me to my next resolution…

4. Get a better job: I really love working at Discovery. They pay me better than anyone ever has, to do a job that I don’t hate. That being said, it’s not the job that I want. Right now I’m in a support role in television, and I really want to get to the creative side. If I can find a job as an editor within the company, that would be ideal. But if not, I’m ready to move on to my next adventure. And speaking of adventures… (No lie, I feel like I’m killing it with these segues today!)

5. Date more: I actually tied my personal record for BDPA, (Broads Dated Per Anum) last year. BUT, that number is too embarrassingly low to print. I’ve got friends that are getting married this year, and there’s probably only one girl in my past that I can legitimately claim to have had a meaningful relationship with. All of my other experiences have been fleeting flings. Bottom line, I’ve gotta pick up the pace. Speaking of pace…

Creative Endeavors

In this picture I’m acting like I’m writing, while listening to music! And you’ll understand how perfect this is after you read the next four resolutions…

6. Write more: I spend a ton of my free time reading other blogs. I have been regarding this as research, the writer’s equivalent of hitting the film room before the big game. But now I’m attempting to change philosophies, and go with the “practice makes perfect” method instead. I’d love to get to a point where writing could sustain my lifestyle. The only way that’s going to happen is if I start pumping out enough material to build a real following. Or decide to change my lifestyle to “homeless”… and “foodless”.

7. Post more: You would think this goes hand in hand with #6 up there, but if so you are clearly underestimating my psychosis. I never actually stopped writing for this blog. I have at least three different folders of half-finished posts; one on a work computer at my old office, one on my laptop, and all of my drafts in Gmail. I went through a two week stretch where I wrote a complete post every day, slept on it, woke up and hated every word I had written. The level of quality that I believe I have achieved with each of my published posts is something I am fiercely devoted to. This blog is on a very short list of things that I can honestly say I created entirely on my own. That fact makes it very important to me, but also terrifying. There is no safety net here, no teammate to share the burden of failure. While at the end of the day I may be writing this mostly for myself, the opinions of the handful of people that I know have read everything on this site are something that I care deeply about. I want to learn to trust my talent and judgment enough that my post rate increases.

8. Record an EP: One of my other passions is music. I only have two tried and true methods for relieving stress: hitting baseballs, and singing until I am hoarse.

AND DANCING MY FACE OFF

I need to listen to it to drive, to run, to write, or just to relax. This deep connection led me to try making my own music, so I have been in an ever-evolving garage band for the better part of a decade. The many hours spent rehearsing and writing alongside the rotating cast of characters I have played with over the years has resulted in: two live performances, a handful of non-mastered songs, and one completely psychotic music video. My current band mates are both talented and dedicated. My modest goal is to record five original songs this year so that we can finally have a physical album to say we made.

9. Get paid to act: If money wasn’t a problem, like if I was born a bratty trust fund kid, I would be an actor. It’s the thing I feel I am most talented at, and I have never felt more fulfilled than at the end of a show when I’m taking part in the company bow. I’m a California kid at heart, and one day I hope to live on the beach. Plus, I hear LA traffic isn’t as bad as DC’s! I’m actually kind of making progress on this one already this year. I’m not going to get paid for it, but I just got cast in a web-based miniseries that will be a futuristic retelling of the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Don’t worry, when we start shooting you’ll hear all about it I promise.

Dental Floss

Disclaimer: this is not an accurate depiction of how to floss, in case you’ve forgotten how it’s done. Source.

10. Floss more: Bet you thought I was kidding. But seriously guys… we should all be flossing more often. Literally nothing can get in the way of this. It takes like three minutes, and it costs like a nickel. So even if I accomplish nothing else this year, I’m leaving it with incredible teeth.

Here’s to 2013.

Machak’s Six Mix:

Cracked Article of the Week is sound advice from Mr. Robert Brockway

Meme of the Week is actually terrifying, but still chuckle-worthy.

Text From Last Night of the Week is from a finalist for Mom of the Year.

Song of the Week is the musical baby that was born when Calvin and Florence hooked up. And the music 

video is that baby’s nightmare.

Random Fact of the Week does not make sense.

Surprise Awesomeness of the Week I’m sure you’ve already heard by now, but this is big news.

The Gym

I’ve had an on again off again relationship with the gym since I was 15. That’s when Josh Lucas saved my life by convincing me to play on the freshman lacrosse team with him. That spring I lost thirty pounds and turned from a pumpkin back into a real boy, like the love child of Cinderella and Pinocchio. Since then I’ve gone through periods of extreme discipline where I worked out twice a day and kept a 1200 calorie diet; and binges where I ate fast food for a week straight, and the only sport I played was Madden. After bellying up to within fifteen pounds of my heaviest ever, I’ve spent the last month on an exercise kick. Since my return to pumping iron, I have rediscovered all the things that I love about the gym, and the things that I hate.

Not nearly as many calories burned as the hours wasted. Source.

THINGS I LOVE

I love how going to the gym makes me feel. Working out always gives me an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. If you go in with a workout plan, you are constantly meeting goals; from improving specific muscle groups, down to individual sets and reps. The more consistently I work out the better it gets, because eventually I meet weight and clothing size goals as well. And I know I’m not the only one who enjoys the after burn of a great workout. I don’t know if it’s because of a psychological link that gets created between muscle fatigue and success, or if it’s just human nature; but I’m always happy when I’m sore. The gym gives you a place where you can “hurt so good” and stay clothed. That thought leads us to the biggest perk of all, endorphins. For those of you who skipped biology, endorphins are the chemicals that get released into your brain to distract you when you’re in pain or eating spicy food; or to reward you for having sex. I’ve never left the gym thinking “Why did I work out? Now I’m stuck with all these damn endorphins for the next few hours….”

The cobra stretch confuses sex and working out almost as badly as endorphins. Source.

I love how going to the gym makes me look. The number one reason why people work out is to lose weight. Whether they’re obese and trying to make a lifestyle change, or just want to drop ten pounds before beach season; the average consumer will spend about $500 on gym memberships this year. Don’t expect me to condemn that expense, I contribute to that statistic. Like it or not, in our society it’s not just what’s on the inside that counts. It’s been my experience that even if you have an amazing personality, if you’ve wrapped that personality in bacon… you’re sleeping alone. When I’m working out consistently, my shirts are looser in the middle and tighter in the arms. In fact, even in the places I’m still stubbornly flabby; I think the fat hangs better. It doesn’t matter if I’ve only dropped five pounds, my self-image gets much sexier, and that makes both my self-esteem and self-confidence sky rocket.

Personality is literally the only thing that people won’t accept when its bacon wrapped. Source.

I love the escape I get when I’m working out. For an hour every day you can let your mind go completely blank, and focus solely on whatever exercises you want to do; unless you’re a complete psychopath and make yourself watch the news while you’re on the treadmill. One of the best parts of my escape is that I get to really listen to music. I usually have something on in the background all day, but I don’t get to lose myself in the music. Obviously because that would be detrimental to whatever tasks I’m trying to accomplish. However, at the gym that distraction can help me run further than I would normally be able to. Without music, all I would have to focus on is the tremendous pain in my legs and abdomen that running inspires.

THINGS I HATE

I hate working on abs. Every abdominal exercise I know puts stress on either you neck, back, or ass. That wouldn’t be such a big problem, except everyone gets so awkward whenever I try to start a massage train on the mats. Also, there’s no attractive way to work on your abs. I mean if you have a twelve pack, or however many abs the sexy people have nowadays, I’m sure you look good planking… but I don’t. They’re the most frustrating muscle group to work on because until you’re in great shape you won’t be able to see any improvement, even if you are making progress.

I hate how fast your body builds up a tolerance to exercise. It only takes about a month for your body to get used to an exercise routine, and when that happens, you start to see diminished results. That’s waaaaay faster than even your tolerance for alcohol can be raised. The pseudoscientific strategy that programs like P90X use to combat this is called “muscle confusion”. It’s less of a big secret, and more of an extremely detailed and varied exercise plan. But P90X is incredibly difficult, which is why I write blog posts on the internet, instead of modeling my abs. The best way I’ve found to keep my muscles good and disoriented, is to mix in swimming and basketball with more traditional workouts like lifting and good old fashioned running.

Damn you Tony Horton. Source.

Finally, I hate all the other people at the gym. They’re the only thing that can drag me back from my aforementioned escape. Most often this is the 1000 year old woman pretending to use the back extension machine, or the frat guys benching all damn day, or the forty freaking kids in the pool wiping out five lap lanes. But I especially hate whoever it is at the gym that makes the equipment decisions. Listen, I get that the 100lb dumbbell looks really cool, but who in the hell uses it? Maybe we take the money for all the weights in the set over 75lbs and reinvest it in the 20lb-45lb range. I want to live in a world where I don’t have to pretend to do squats while I wait on the thirty pound dumbbells; which are ALWAYS FREAKING GONE WHEN IM JUST TRYING TO DO MY LAST SET OF BICEP CURLS AND GO HOME.   

Quick tangent: I never got into Resident Evil, or any of the other big zombie killing games growing up. There are many theories circulating my group of friends as to why, but the most popular one is that I have lady bits… go figure. I finally understood when Dead Rising came out. Part of the allure is the creativity behind firing golf balls into the oncoming horde, but it’s really an escapist fantasy that lets you kill people. It’s not that my generation is made up entirely of sociopaths; it’s that we have no outlet outside of sports for our natural violent tendencies. Zombie games, and probably most first person shooters now that I think about it, are really just a release for our impotent nerd rage. I didn’t get the earlier games because I don’t have a lot of frustrating memories of other people in creepy old houses, but I loved Dead Rising because another place I hate everyone is at the mall. The point of this side bar is that I’d love to see a Dead Rising game that’s set in a gym. I would really like to try to figure out how to kill a zombie/roidfreak with a rowing machine. Please internet, make this happen for me.

Zombieland was on the edge of my tolerance for gross things, but I will play this game literally all night. Source.

Though the things I hate about the gym may be more concrete than the things I love, I really do believe the positives outweigh the negatives. Hopefully I can stick with my current exercise plan, then one day I’ll write a column on the six things I love the most about my abs… see what I did there.

Machak’s S(even)ix Mix:

Cracked Article of the Week is chock full of legendary slams.

Addicting game of the Week if you can figure out the controls, I remember this game being aggressively awesome.

Text From Last Night of the Week guys… we gotta stop with the abbreviations, seriously.

Song of the Week, one of the best tracks off the new album.

Random Fact of the Week makes me really appreciate the lengths women will go to look good.

Surprise Awesomeness of the Week is more proof that Dave Grohl is the living embodiment of awesome.

Since this post is so very late, I’ll throw in a little extra to the mix. I’m going to tell you guys the quick morning workout I designed in high school. If you can do it twice in fifteen minutes, congratulations you are now ready to join the Oakton High School Junior Varsity Wrestling team. But seriously, it really works your abs and I’ve watched much better looking people than me struggle to get through it.

45 sec plank
15 leg lifts
12 Push-ups
25 obliques, each side
12 Sit-ups
15 Push-ups
12 Sit-ups
25 obliques, each side
12 Push-ups
15 leg lifts
45 sec plank

Two minute break and repeat.

Enjoy.

Secret Truths of Adulthood

While I was growing up, I realized at some point that we cross secret checkpoints for maturity. Like when I started high school, I was really starting to become an adult. When I started college, my parents started treating me like an adult. Finally, when I was getting close to graduating from college, I actually felt like an adult. No, there wasn’t one triumphant moment when I stood up in class and said, “From henceforth let it be known that I am a Man!” What I’m saying is I started to realize that people I looked at as “adults” were treating me more like an equal. Also, kids in high school started calling me sir.

There are a lot of cool things about being an adult. For instance, you can have candy for breakfast and no one can say shit. On the flipside, people stop complimenting you for doing things correctly, you’re just expected to be successful. All in all, I think it’s a pretty fair trade. But while I’ve been busy getting used to all the new freedoms and responsibilities I’ve gained since graduation; I’ve noticed a few other “secret truths of adulthood” which have really surprised me.

The first “secret truth of adulthood” I’ve come across is that jerks usually don’t grow out of being jerks. When I was little, adults were always very careful to be polite to each other in front of me. People that I’d later find out hated each other had seemed like the best of friends. My parents were incredibly gifted at this. Because of their acting skills, I thought all adults were basically good people, you know unless they were criminals.

Either I was lucky to have adults in my life that wanted me to believe in the best in people, or video games really do affect our perception of the real world.

But the truth is, the jerks you knew in high school are most likely the douchebags you knew in college; and the diploma doesn’t come with a new personality. The same kid that wouldn’t help with the group project is now the guy who plays with his iPhone all day at work.  And honestly, why are we always surprised when a professional athlete turns out to be a sucky person? Those guys are just the entitled jocks you hated in high school, but bigger and even more fervently enabled. In retrospect, this first truth really shouldn’t have been a surprise, but a disappointment.

Probably not Mr. Congeniality. Source.

In contrast, this next “secret truth” was a HUGE surprise to me. Last week I was picking some stuff up at Target, and when I was on my way out of the store someone caught my eye. I only got a glimpse of her, and I hadn’t seen her face, but I was about seventy percent sure a porn star had just walked past me. This girl was wearing jean shorts that were riding so high you could almost call them a thong, and her plain white t-shirt had a V so deep you could almost see her belly button. Now I’m not usually a go getter when it comes to women, but I needed to see if I had just crossed paths with an “actress”. Well, I didn’t. As I stood rooted to the spot, gawking with my tongue out, the girl turned around. I literally gagged as I realized this ridiculously hot, and skankily dressed, “woman” could not have been sixteen.  After recovering from the initial shock, I walked away and chalked it up as an isolated incident. But, it wasn’t. Just this Sunday I was at Chipotle with my good friend Chris, when yet another female figure made me do a cartoon style double take. Once again, a girl with half her butt hanging out of the bottom of her shorts turned around to reveal a face that could not be on a license yet.

You might think I’m going to say that the “truth” is I’ve come to a day when high school girls are no longer “hot” to me. Well I’m not, I’m 22 so that day came a long time ago sicko. No, what I realized goes much deeper than that. I wasn’t just surprised or annoyed that these girls were too young for me; I was actually offended they were dressing this way. It wasn’t a conscious decision to make a judgment; I just caught myself thinking, “WHAT is she wearing?” But as soon as that thought faded, I just started laughing. Because I knew that four or five years ago I would have thought those girls were awesome. But today, I’m looking at them like an “old person”. The “secret truth” is that eventually, your point of view will shift.

Courtney Stodden is 16 and inappropriate on a national stage. Source.

This recent change in mentality doesn’t end with my opinion on risqué high school fashion choices. I went to see Cowboys & Aliens the weekend it was released, and as you know this movie didn’t break any attendance records. Even so, it was still a fairly packed house. The row behind me was filled with about a dozen 15 year old boys. How could I tell the age of some kids sitting behind me in a dark theater? Well I got to hear their voices a lot, because this group of young scholars had just discovered the f-word. This is a big day in a young man’s life, and they were making the most of it. Every trailer invoked not whispers, but loud declarations of both “that’s going to f-ing suck” and “shut the f-ck up, it’s gonna f-ing rock!” Then the opening shot of the movie was both “f-ing stupid” and “f-ing bad-ass”, depending on which of these rapscallions you polled. In a span of less than ten minutes, the entire theater was assaulted with f-bombs that numbered in the triple digits. I wasn’t just annoyed that they were talking during the movie; I was embarrassed by their language. I was embarrassed that my parents had to sit there and listen to it. I was embarrassed that there was nothing I could do to stop them. But most of all, I was embarrassed that these kids didn’t have the shame to be embarrassed for themselves; it was a poor representation of my gender. The only way I could have reacted like an older man would have been to yell at the kids to get off my lawn.

All I wanted to yell was a beautifully ironic, “Yippee-kay yay mother f-er!” as I re-enacted this classic scene from Die Hard on their adolescent asses. Source.

Of course, the last “secret truth of adulthood” for today centers on women. Until I hit about twelve, the biggest difference between my friends that were girls and friends that were boys was hair length. Then I went to middle school, and all of a sudden I started having trouble relating to the ladies. They were interested in different things, and over the summer had somehow developed the ability to communicate using only their eyes.

(I wanted to put a picture of this “eye talk” here, but all attempts to capture this super power on film have failed miserably.)

I was confused at first, but then I went home and saw that my parents somehow co-existed, and that my sister was spending all of her time with her boyfriend; so clearly these girls were just going through a phase. Fifty years of wacky sitcom hijinks should have prepared me for this one, but the “secret truth” is: there will never be a day that I completely understand women. They’re motivated by different chemicals and genitals, and I have to assume the confusion is mutual. Don’t get me wrong, I love women as they are; but I always assumed that one day I’d be able to get in their heads.

What are you thinking Scarlett Johansson? Source.

Some of you may have discovered these “truths” when you were in high school, and some of you may be calling bull shit on everything I’ve written today; still insisting that high school skanks will never go out of style. That’s the real “secret truth”, adulthood doesn’t come at the same time for everyone, and it certainly doesn’t come all at once.  

Machak’s Six Mix:

Cracked Article of the Week no article jumped into my head for this week, so here’s a webcomic instead.

Addicting game of the Week look I know I’ve put bloons up here before… but this is a bloons tower defense game, and it’s awesome.

Text from Last Night of the Week whatever he took, he took too much of it.

Song of the Week the first ever mash-up of the week.

Random Fact of the Week a beautiful metaphor for equality.

Surprise Awesomeness of the Week you always thought you could build the Silver Monkey on your first try, 

now you have a chance to prove it.

World's Greatest

What sport do the world’s most impressive athletes play? That’s a question that I have a lot of trouble answering. So let’s try to figure this out together. I’ll present the argument for every major sport, then play my own devil’s advocate. At the end you guys can comment and tell me what you think. Sound good? Alright, first let’s list the mainstream sports that will be eligible for this discussion: Baseball, Basketball, Football, Futbol, Lacrosse, Hockey, Tennis, and NASCAR. Some of you may have noticed I’ve left golf off this list, that’s because golf isn’t a sport. To quote Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart, “It’s hard to define, but I know it when I see it.” Of course he was talking about hardcore pornography, and I’m talking about sports, but I think it still applies.

This man knows his porn. Source

First up is the national pastime. It’s universally accepted that the most difficult skill to develop in all of sports is learning to hit a round ball with a round bat. To play baseball you need exceptional reflexes, strength, hand-eye coordination, and speed; as well as the endurance to play a 162 game season. And for those who say baseball is not a contact sport, please watch this video. That’s Randy Johnson destroying a bird with a fastball. In case you forgot, a pitch is how every play starts in baseball, and about 150 of them are thrown every game. It takes some courage to step into the batter’s box knowing there’s a chance you could be the bird this time. So what’s the argument against the five-tool players of the MLB? The best pitcher in the game looks like a bear.

He stopped eating Cap’n Crunch and lost 25lbs. Source

Basketball demands the leg strength to run and jump on both sides of the court, and the arm strength to dribble, battle for position, and put up hundreds of shots over the duration of a season. These athletes are strong, extremely well conditioned, and mostly genetic freaks. Seriously, the average height for a man in the US is about 5’10”, but the average height of an NBA player is around 6’7”. That’s kind of my argument against basketball players. Jordan is accepted as the greatest player of all time, but when people use the phrase “most dominant of his era” it’s always in reference to whoever was physically the biggest player in a given decade. Russel, Wilt, Kareem, Shaq, Yao, and now Howard were considered either unstoppable offensive players, or one man walls on defense. As the saying goes, “You can’t teach tall”; it’s just less impressive if what makes you the best player on the court is the simple act of being enormous. My other beef with basketball is that too many games are decided on plays without defense. You can talk about the pressure of making a clutch foul shot all you want, but the bottom line is it’s an open shot where the only people allowed to try to make you miss are the spectators.

Shaq’s career FG% .582, Shaq’s career FT% .527… math. Source

Football is the most popular, and therefore profitable, sport in the USA. A major reason for this is that the competitors are the biggest, fastest, and strongest athletes the world has to offer. The mental strength required to memorize a one thousand page playbook and then execute your assignment on game day is staggering. On paper, football is the obvious answer to my question. So why isn’t it? Too much specialization in today’s game. The offensive linemen play the most downs of anyone on the team, but at best they’re on the field for 50% of the snaps. I’m sorry, but if you only have to play half the game, you can’t be the most impressive athlete in all of sports.   

Also, I may have overstated the mental strength… He shot himself. Source

Futbol, (or Soccer to people who know better) is the most popular sport in the world. The athletes need to have speed, endurance, and foot-eye coordination; a skill fairly unique to this sport. The most impressive of those traits in my opinion is endurance. A soccer pitch is the biggest playing field of any of the sports I am discussing in this column, and teams can only use three substitutions per game. Running back and forth across the giant expanse of grass for god knows how long, (yeah… that’s a shot at stoppage time) takes mental and physical strength. The only problem is that soccer ignores the upper body entirely. “But what about headers?” you may ask… “Shut up!” I may answer. If you can play your sport without having arms, you aren’t the most impressive athlete.

Another problem, I have no idea if this man has actually been wronged. Source

Lacrosse translates to “Little Brother of War”, so ten points right off the bat. These warriors require a combination of speed, strength, agility, hand-eye coordination, and endurance. The world record for fastest shot stands at 112 mph, one of the many reasons lacrosse can claim the title of “the fastest sport on two legs”; which sounds damn near a superhero slogan. The only problem I have with lacrosse is the same one I have with football. The specialization of modern lacrosse players, along with relatively short shift lengths for middies, hurts lacrosse in the endurance conversation.

Nothing funny about this picture, I just look badass

Hockey is what happened when lacrosse got too cold. That’s my whole argument for hockey; all the skills needed for lacrosse, but on ICE! Hockey rinks are a much smaller playing area, so only six players are on the ice at a time. This leads to less specialization among players; forwards and defensemen really play both offense and defense. However, the average shift length is about 45 seconds long, and even first line players will only play about a third of the game. Also, their goalie’s pads are ridiculously huge and their goal is tiny.

See how easy it is to be a hockey goalie. Source

Tennis players certainly pass the eye test. Their sport requires both upper and lower body strength, and excellent coordination. They’re playing offense and defense at the same time, and need the mental dexterity to make lightning quick strategic decisions. Not to mention that the greatest players need to be able to compete on three different surfaces. And let’s not even talk about endurance, if there is a tie these athletes will play for days, literally. So what are my arguments against them? The modern game is played in very short bursts, mostly because of the focus on service aces. The tennis racket is by far the biggest implement we use to bludgeon balls for entertainment. There’s also a lot more dead time than in other sports on this list; time spent sitting or standing around between points, games, and sets. On top of all that, the playing area is relatively small. Honestly, at this point I’m splitting hairs because I really don’t want the answer to be tennis players.

Mostly because there’s waaaaaay too much crying when they win. Source

NASCAR… I have a lot of trouble with calling this a sport, but with such an expansive and rabid fan base, I don’t think I have a choice. The G-forces these guys go through during a race rival a launch of the space shuttle. But what’s really impressive is the mental strength to drive a car at 200mph, six inches away from many other cars, for three hours straight, while talking to someone whole time. However, none of that seems to matter when compared to my main problem with this sport:

(You can’t tell me which of these men is better at NASCAR-ing. Source. Source.)

So that’s my analysis, here is where you guys come in. Let me know what you think! Who did I undersell, who did I overrate? I’ll leave it open for a week for you all to comment, and before next week’s post I’ll reveal my opinion.

Machak’s Six Mix:

Cracked Article of the Week number one will blow your mind.

Addicting game of the Week if any of you have not played this yet I will be shocked, but it’s tons of fun so whatever.

Text from Last Night of the Week sticking with the sports theme.

Song of the Week how good a song would this be for a batter’s theme music? I mean, come on the title alone is perfect right?

Random Fact of the Week my DC readers should know this, but it’s still awesome.

Surprise Awesomeness of the Week stupid stuff sports stars have said. Yes, Yogi gets his own section.

Synapses on Superheroes Part I: Archetype Theory

Disclaimer: I’m a huge nerd. As such, I spend a lot of time thinking about superheroes. Over the life of this blog you’re going to read a lot of my thoughts on them, I’ll break up the mental manifesto that I have been formulating over the years into easier to digest pieces. In this edition, I’m going to break down a theory I came up with this week. I believe that all superheroes fall into one of three categories: heroes you wish you could be, heroes you think you could be, and heroes you really are. Now obviously I’m not asserting that any of my readers are secretly poisoned with gamma radiation and are going to throw their computer through the wall when they disagree with where I classify Wolverine; what I am saying is that there are a lot of people out there who can identify with a quiet man who constantly struggles to deal with the monster he becomes when he can’t control his rage. I’m going to try my best to prove this theory to you, and I’m not even going to make you answer a stupid survey question on facebook.

If you think back about fifteen years, before the comic book summer blockbuster boom, who would you say were the three most popular superheroes? It’s pretty clear to me that Superman, Batman, and Spider-Man were far above the rest of the superfolk. Now it’s too early in this column to start a “who are the best superheroes” fight, I know everyone had their own less profitable favorites: Iron Man, The Flash, and Captain America to name a few. Really the only thing we all agreed on was that Aquaman sucked.

Psh… Aquaman. Source: DcComics.com

But if you’re being honest with yourself, I think it’s hard to argue with my top three up there. They all had commercially successful/critically acclaimed cartoons, Spider-Man had been running in your newspaper since 1977, and Superman and Batman each had four movies already. (Stop pretending you don’t remember Superman IV or the Joel Schumacher era of Bat-suit nipples, if we pretend that these atrocities never occurred then we are opening the door for history to repeat itself!)  There’s a reason that these three heroes climbed to the apex of marketability. I believe it’s because each of these characters perfectly exemplifies one of the three categories of my theory.

Superman is the poster boy for “heroes you wish you could be”. He’s from another planet, he has an iconic costume/symbol, he’s damn near invincible, and his list of other powers and abilities drives to the borderline of absurd, pees on it, takes pictures, laughs, and continues straight on through to Canada. He has an ice palace with the incredibly awesome name “The Fortress of Solitude”. He stands for truth, justice, and the American way, how badass a slogan is that? When he is being Clark Kent, he has a job as an ace reporter at the world’s biggest newspaper and a smoking hot/hyper intelligent (except for the whole can’t recognize him through glasses thing) girlfriend in one of the best known female characters in the history of comics, Lois Lane. Ignoring everything else, the last son of Krypton can fly! That has got to be the number one wished for superpower from every little kid in the history of forever. Other than his code of ethics, none of his attributes are even remotely attainable.

Got that "S" on my chest

Batman has always been a pop culture icon, and his status is at an all-time high thanks to Christopher Nolan’s gritty reboot. But it’s not the special effects or Oscar worthy performances that draw people to this character; it’s the silent belief that if you had the resources, you could totally be the Dark Knight. His massive wealth has allowed him to become the ultimate vigilante, but other than the head start of a mountainous trust fund, there is no difference between him and us. What makes him the “hero who you think you could be” and not the “hero you really are” is the lifestyle of his secret identity; billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne. This guy spends his days wining and dining at expensive charity galas and chatting up models, and his nights beating the fear of God into the scum of Gotham. Sometimes after a long day of being awesome, he gets to shack up with freaking Catwoman! Unfortunately, the average comic book reader doesn’t have access to billions of dollars. They couldn’t go toe to toe with a drunk in a bar fight, much less the super powered rogue’s gallery that the caped crusader faces off against every issue. And let’s stop pretending that anyone can operate on the eight minutes of sleep that is apparently all Bruce Wayne needs to kick ass in both the “private sector” and the public eye.

Plus he ALWAYS has the coolest car

Spider-Man is a different kind of story. Many of these differences are what I believe makes Peter Parker the character that the most people can really identify with. Now you might be thinking “Wait a second Joey, you’re telling me that a teenager that was bitten by a radioactive spider which fundamentally changed his DNA and granted him many of said spider’s abilities is more like me than Batman? You’re full of crap, and you know what else? I hate you. I shant waste any more of my precious internet on your blog.” Well please hear me out, and stop saying that you hate me; it hurts my feelings.

It’s not about the wall-crawler’s powers. Who among us will ever know what it feels like to swing through the New York City skyline, climb the outside of a one hundred story building, or even the simple joy of trading blows with a vicious arch nemesis? Spider-Man is the greatest example of the “heroes that you really are” because of the real world challenges he faces. Yes, Lex Luthor and The Joker along with the rest of the deviants and evildoers that Superman and Batman take down are great adversaries, but for the most part that’s all they face. They don’t have any “real” problems. At the end of the day Bruce goes back to Wayne manor, and Kal-El doesn’t even have to eat! For all their trials in the field, they get to leave their problems at the door so to speak.

When Spider-Man gets done beating Venom down with his fists of fury and snappy one liners, he crawls back to a tiny apartment. When he wakes up the next day he goes to a job where he gets paid (poorly) to give pictures of himself (as Spidey) to J. Jonah Jameson, a boss that belittles him (Peter) and who plans on using those pictures to turn the public against him (Webhead again). On top of all of that, when he takes off the mask, Peter is just as likely to run into one of the supervillains who torment him. His list of enemies has included: his best friend’s dad, his best friend, a rival photographer, and one of his college professors.

The comic also focuses a lot of time on where Peter comes from. He was a lonely loser in high school; he got bullied and beaten up and he wasn’t good with women. It never got easier for him, despite his natural intelligence. He struggles in college because of his difficulties balancing his studies and his responsibilities as Spider-Man.  Underneath it all, he’s just a kid who is struggling with life like the rest of us.

By this point you’ve probably guessed that Spider-Man is my favorite hero. So why am I so enamored with this depressing story about a man who can’t even win at life with super powers? Because like all great stories, this one is really about hope. Even though life keeps kicking him in the teeth, Peter Parker’s strength of will, and his core belief that “with great power comes great responsibility” won’t let him stay down. Of course, it helps that your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man gets to call Mary Jane Watson his girlfriend. I think that’s really why he’s my favorite, I love watching the nerd with a secret inner strength get a shot with the girl of his dreams.

I’d save the world for that. Source: Marvel.com

Machak’s Six (SEVEN SUPER LINKS) Mix:

Cracked Article of the Week let’s hope Hollywood quits while it’s ahead and we never see these plots on the silver screen.

Addicting game of the Week super plants? I don’t know… it’s 3:30AM and this game rocks. Thank Kristen Lautenschalger for this submission.

Text from Last Night of the Week I can’t explain how badly I want to do this.

Song of the Week come on… like you didn’t know this was coming.

Random Fact of the Week this is super depressing…

Surprise Awesomeness of the Week in honor of the Cap’s new movie, once again brought to you by Kristen Lautenschlager.

Bonus Surprise Awesomeness of the Week since you all have been so cool about me being late this week. Credit Sean Cutright for finding this one.

SUPER BONUS MATERIAL ALERT: I will be adding another post later this week where I classify many of your favorite heroes according to my theory. Then let the debate begin!!!