Common Sense - More Addicting Than Crack

It's not healthy for maintaining a modest ego when your friends call you a genius. Thankfully, no one's called me one lately - not since high school. I'm glad, because I don't really think that I am a genius. I mean, I probably could have gotten into MIT or joined MENSA by now, but I really think that's nothing special, especially considering my tendency to form run-on sentences like this one whenever I'm trying to express a coherent thought.

Nonetheless, I am of a certain nerdy, intellectual disposition. I mean, I saw that Zebra came out with a new stainless steel gel pen (a take on the ever-popular - at least in my eyes - F-301) and almost had a nervous breakdown due to the ecstasy. I bought it immediately and can't wait for another excuse to write on something.

Perhaps along with my disposition of the intellectual comes a disgust with the ignorant or unthinking. I know that most people who read things on the internet see "ignorant" and immediately think of people who are unaware of the imminent threat of global warming, people who support various political principles without realizing their true effect on humanity or the difficulty with which such principles could be realistically executed, and people who like Nickelback. But I'm talking instead about a more basic ignorance. As usual, let me illustrate by turning to that cesspool of blog inspiration, the gym.

As I've revealed before, I think, I tend to stick to the electronic elliptical machines for a majority of my workout. When I got there, there were three available ellipticals. But alas, all their screens were blank. Determined to work out for the sake of my physical fitness and so that the girls wouldn't notice me staring at their glistening bodies, I did the one thing that seemed to make the most sense. I picked one out and made sure the power cord was still securely connected. Much to my lack of surprise, it wasn't fully plugged into the machine, so what once was dead was now alive. Rather than standing there comparing my abilities to those of Jesus resurrecting Lazarus, I went ahead with my workout. I should note, though, that I was secretly hoping that one of the girls would notice and make the comparison herself.

During my thirty-minute workout, I noticed a few girls trying the other two malfunctioning machines, which were directly in front of me. I knew that one of the machines would not work, as the power supply had been completely disconnected. You could presumably reattach it, if you knew which wires connected to which terminal. I didn't want to cause some sort of short circuit, so I never considered messing with it. However, I did notice that girls would keep trying to work out, as though their pedaling would power the machine. That's how the bikes work, not the ellipticals. One girl even didn't bother with a working machine that had a television monitor that was having network issues. That is, she worked out on the "dead" machine, as it was more important for her to have a working television than to have a working exercise machine.

As I finished my workout, I messed with the other machine, whose power supply had not been pulled out by a crazed Muppet drummer. The simple problem was, the power switch had been in the "off" position. Girls had tried this machine, too, and apparently they gave up in minor frustration because it just didn't work. To them, it was broken. A machine left to be repaired by men with fuzzy guts and southern accents. They didn't think to check the most basic of possibilities. Needless to say, I switched the thing from "0" to "1" (ever notice how power switches have become binary in this day and age?) and I felt like a technological god.

Now, why every girl who witnessed my act didn't line up in a frantic queue to ask me my phone number is beyond me.

I've had my fair share of lapses in common sense, to be fair. But simply assuming something is broken without even looking at it just strikes me as obscenely mindless. It's like you refuse to take any responsibility for ensuring that things are working correctly, delegating that task to some higher power. I hope they don't take the same attitude to the voting booths, because then we're all screwed. Me? I don't care who's up for election. I'm going to vote for a write-in. That way, I'll have another reason to write something with this bitchin' new pen.

I'd Like to Muggle Her Golden Snitch

I figure that, with a long absence from the typewriter, a quality post is due. With that in mind, I'm afraid you'll have to wait as I type my normal drivel.

As the Harry Potter hype has started to die down, there is no shortage of copies of the final book. I don't think there ever was, as I remember that most friends of mine who got their copy on the very first day (actually, only three or so people qualify for this distinction) either noted that they pre-ordered the book when they didn't have to or just picked up a copy with no hassle. I remember I was on a vacation in Scotland when the last book came out, and there were copies everywhere - not just at bookstores or general stores. In fact, I'll bet you could probably pick one up at McDonald's.

Quick side note - the McDonald's in Scotland was the first and only time I tried a Big Mac. It was good enough, but I haven't gotten around to destroying my body in such a way again. I figured eating at a McDonald's was permissible in Scotland, since it's such a Scottish name.

Anyway, there are still various piles of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows everywhere. There are even copies at the local Kroger supermarket. There, I noticed a table of books in a store which I consider notorious for poor placement of products. Every time I go there, I end up getting items from only two ends of the store, having to travel the length of the store for some milk to go with my cereal, for example. I'm not complaining, only suggesting that it may be smarter to move greeting cards and cookware to the end of the store, rather than smack in the middle. With this seeming randomness now stated, perhaps you can understand why I was only very mildly puzzled when I saw that they had put the popular books next to the condoms and sexual lubricants.

I love irony, especially when it can be found in public settings like your local neighborhood supermarket. Here's a book for kids located right beside one of the most effective means of preventing kids from coming into existence. I know many would argue against my claim that Harry Potter is for kids, but I do feel that it is still children's literature, albeit hugely accessible and most likely a great series of books (I have never read any of the books. But then again, there are a lot of books that I've never gotten around to reading.) I also realize that there are other uses for condoms, such as preventing the transmission of sexually transmitted diseases and emergency backups for a balloon-less New Year's Eve party. But let me have my irony, will you?

I wonder how many people nerds like to engage in Harry Potter-based sexual fantasies. If this sounds like you, I am sad to say I just went to get my groceries today and they were out of books. Perhaps they had just moved them, but it's very possible that they've been moved out of the store. But if anyone's interested in hot, passionate sex condoms, you should talk to me. I know where they are.