Idea 74 - Look No Further: The Responsible Use of Real X-Ray Glasses

Agreed: with the pace of technological innovation increasing at a nauseating pace, real x-ray glasses are obviously right around the corner. But I'm pretty sure that their arrival will unravel society itself, as the impulse to look through inappropriate things, like everybody's clothes, will overwhelm even the most respectful eunuch. Widespread moral degradation and rioting will ensue. But not if this book has anything to say about it:

Chapter 7: Things not to look at via your new x-ray glasses:

• Genitals -- The appropriate behavior is to steal a quick glance at the underwear, which is enough to titillate oneself but not visually abuse someone else
  

• Colonic interiors -- Eating habits are private, and it's simply not your right to peer into a stranger's innards and guess what they've ingested in the last 16-24 hours
  

• Pastries -- When someone bakes a pie, what they're really baking is a surprise. A major part of the excitement of a filled pastry is what's called The Gushing Moment, when secret goo meets lips and teeth. (Also tongue.) Even if you've been told ahead of time that it's a blueberry croissant or a Boston creme, you are doing the chef an egregious disservice by "skipping ahead" to the wet part. For shame.

That's a huge relief for me, just to be able to put my concerns on paper, as it were. And I know I speak for millions of enraged citizens when I say that the time for x-ray vision legislation is NOW, not after the scourge of wanton see-throughery spoils our streets with sodden shorts and spoiled sweet surprises. That was a lot of s's!

Idea 73 - The Legendary Myth Of Legend

Maybe I can get some attention by "discovering" a new Greek or Roman myth -- something akin to a newfound Gospel, but it won't be about the bible so people won't flip out about it too much. The best thing is that I can just make up random weird events and it'll sound like a real myth:

From the armpit of Athena burst a small tuft of golden wheat, the flowing fronds of which soon bore a star-shaped fruit. As she walked, this star-fruit fell to the fertile soil at the foot of Mount Olympus, from whence soon sprung a stone goat with nine faces. It was named Goatus and thus mankind received the name we call our modern goats.

After 100 years of silence, Goatus beheld a young human maiden named Sallyus, who was hot. He was so entranced by her beauty that he belched, and the belch became a half-god named Cletus, patron of home-made wine, and thus mankind received the name we give to our modern white trash.

See, I came up with that in about two minutes and I just explained two mysteries of our time. What could I accomplish if I had some funding? Who knows? Oh wait, I do.

NOTE: I mean no disrespect to those who still believe in those Greek/Roman gods but at the same time you have to admit that all that stuff definitely didn't happen. Also, it does concern me that kids who read those myths might think magical stuff happens when you fuck animals.

I'M ON VACATION

The flood of valuable ideas will resume on Thursday, July 30th.

Idea 72 - Financial Freedom and Unholy Slavery

Seems like the masses can't get enough of those how-to self-help wealth-acquisition books, even religious ones. Seriously, there's a large crop of books about how Jesus can help you get rich -- turns out He was being sarcastic about that rich man/camel/needle thing. So I feel like this is a great opportunity to put my passion for The Dark Lord to good use:

The cat blood futures market is still in its infancy, but when The Reaping comes you'll be sitting pretty atop your cauldron of feline plasma. As the Lorde Of Hell strides the charred Earth forcing the Innocents to find and guzzle inordinate amounts of kitty juice, you'll have long lines of The Desperate Doomed wrapping around your house, each one willing to empty their bank accounts on your lawn to receive slightly milder Death Sentences.

---

ALWAYS remember the 3 C's of the Apocalypse: Candles, Candles, Candles. The growing Horde of Deviants will require a vast amount of candles to create their own Pentagram alters, so it's wise to consider an investment in widely accessible retail chains like Wicks n' Sticks and even Bed Bath & Beyond. NOTE: Remember to avoid Yankee Candle like one of the coming Plagues, as The Walking Demoncock has a thing against that place (understandably).

---

Even the most sociopathic Heathen needs a diversified portfolio. 'Nuff said.

I don't want to push my religion on anyone, I'm just all about giving people options and tools that can help them flourish in this world before they spend a thousand eternities repeatedly devouring their own bowels and crying tears of battery acid.

Idea 71 - A Portrait Of The Dork As A Young Dork

I've always found Joyce to be very inspiring, or at least the first 40 or so pages of Portrait Of The Artist, which is the only fraction of his work I've ever been able to slog through. But I kind of like the dreamy way he talked about his childhood even though it's nearly impossible to read, understand, or enjoy. That in mind, let's journey to the center of the me:

The TV gave forth its glowing glory, unspooling an unending stream of glorious gossamer goo. Cable had finally reached our middling hamlet, and I was only just beginning to understand its romantic and tactile potential. For I would soon chance upon Cinemax.

---

"Foul!" I cried, my reedy tween voice ringing out in the rippling heat above suburban summer tarmac. Quiet descends as nominal friends shake their sweaty heads. Basketball rules swim in my stay-inside mind. This calling and shaking and swimming lasts years, later I learn that never but never does one call fouls on himself, even if he's Catholic.

I feel like I can inspire a lot of children. See, I was a little outcast-y when I was a kid, but pretty soon I'll be an accomplished author, as long as some publisher finally sprouts a sack and buys one of these damn things. But so far it seems like they're all content to let little loser nerd kids just suffer without any inspiration, which is pretty fucked up.

Idea 70 - Meine Deutsche (I'll Look Up The German Word For 'Adventure' Later)

You might not guess this, but I'm pretty fuckin' cultured. I've been all over, including Belgium. But this particular riveting travelogue is about my time abroad in Germany, in a very quintessentially German college town called Freiburg, nestled Germanically in the foothills of the Black Forest. Hitchhike with me down the dusty road of time:

We were well into another session at O'Dwyer's, one of Freiburg's top three Irish bars. The four of us -- Carl, Justin, Byron and I -- were pounding fine German lager as if it were discounted Natural Light. We were truly sucking the marrow out of our time in a distant land, although there were no Germans in sight, nor any sign of German culture. Soon we would stumble out into the night and return to our cozy student apartment, where we lived with no actual German students.

The evening was destined to end with us playing a fun game we had invented called "The Refund Game", where we embraced Freiburg's environmentally-conscious lifestyle by throwing large beer bottles out of our fourth-floor window in the general direction of the recycling bins roughly 30 yards away.

Sure, some of you might be saying "You could have done that stuff at home" or "what an embarrassment you were to your country and yourselves". But you're forgetting the fact that I'll be changing all the names of people and places to German versions in the real book. Instantly, I'll sound wild but worldly. I'm like eight steps ahead of you.

Idea 69 - The History of the Rug

Sometimes we take important things for granted, like the air we breathe and milk. Just this morning I was sort of spacing out and looking at one of my toenails (not sure if I need to clip it yet) when I noticed our burnt orange rug, softly lounging under my comfy feet. Zounds!, I thought. It's been here the whole time! This rug! Obviously, someone needs to build a sprawling John-Adams-sized retrospective to our forgotten supporters. Get lost in the wonder with me:

The weaving of rugs itself is a tradition that has been passed down and learned over the centuries across numerous cultures around the world. In fact, ancient scriptures provide reference to this; however, no documentation has been discovered as to whether these ancient rugs were flat weaves or pile carpets.

The Pazyryk Rug, the oldest rug in existence, dates back to the 5th century BC. It was discovered in 1947 by Sergei Rudenko, a Russian archaeologist. It's a pile knotted rug, which used 200 Turkish style knots per square inch. The rug is actually fairly ornate with borders and reverse coloring. There are even horses that have what appear to be smaller versions of the Pazyryk Rug on their backs.

It's believed that the style consists of Assyrian, ancient Persian Empire, and Scythian designs. The only way the Pazyryk Rug was preserved was to be frozen in ice for all these centuries. The history of rugs until this discovery was impossible because they could not last 6000 years.

NOTE: EVERYTHING YOU JUST READ IS COMPLETELY TRUE AND BASED ON ACTUAL RESEARCH. Normally I would just make up the "facts" involved, but for this subject, I can't bear to just bullshit it.

ANOTHER NOTE: To be clear, I plagiarized this entire excerpt from an entry on RugEnvy.com.

Idea 68 - The Only Official 2009 Retrospective

So I'm planning ahead with this one, obviously (duh). Anyway, there's always a glut of glossy year-in-review books that come out every winter, which apparently means that there's a market for them. I don't know, I guess there's a certain appeal to holding history in your hands, or at least holding brief, artless recaps of recent events you remember clearly in your hands. Regardless, let's think backward:

January
As Barack Obama addressed the nation as its first black president, it was a sunny day. We came together as one and took a break from work. As many as several thousand people were involved.

June
(pictorial montage commemorating the Celebpocalypse of '09)

November
Our attentions returned to Iraq where increased sectarian violence killed hundreds whatever whatever (JUST A PLACEHOLDER FOR WHATEVER REAL NEWS STORY HAPPENS IN NOVEMBER)

So I'm thinking we'll need to draw some attention to the "official" aspect to set us apart. We'll make a big foil seal, maybe a hologram of Obama's face turning into the main character from the Family Guy. And who's gonna claim that we're not actually "official"? Father Time? Yeah, right.

Idea 67 - Commuting With God

It can hard to find time to praise the Lord(s), what with today's hectic modern lifestyle and all. But nearly all of us need to commute, so instead of wasting that time tap-tapping away on your mobile phone or systematically half-staring at everyone nearby, why not turn your bored eyes to God instead?

EXERCISE 1:
As soon as you start your car, enter the train, or recline on your recumbent bicycle, take ten seconds to repent. Just fill in the blank:

"I did (whatever horrible atrocity you've caused) and I'd like to be instantly absolved. Thanks!"

It's best if you speak it aloud, although this can be problematic in public transit situations or while carpooling. To prevent awkwardness, try speaking clearly, but with your mouth closed. And yes, that still counts in the eyes (and ears!) of the Most Holy Controller Of Our Free Will.

There's a lot more to this one, obviously, including a chapter on how flagellation can be fun when you're stuck in traffic. And of course we'll plan on some kind of a PR stunt on Stern -- maybe strippers who speak in tongues or something. (Pun intended?)