I would just like to request that anyone in Provo who reads this blog go to Cafe Rio and look for the guy there who looks exactly like Toadie from Disney's Gummibears. Thank you.

Jar-Jar Away on Tatooine's Plains

The day Star Wars Episode II came out (and after I had watched it twice after closing the previous night to make sure I had spliced the film together correctly), I got to work bright and early and put in a good 17 hours of "crowd control." It was my job to disallow any lightsaber battles, distribute bathroom passes, and push popcorn and red vines on the weirdoes. I think it's kinda cool to see all the nerds and stuff, but when you end up for three hours of hyped-up special effects crammed next to a guy who probably hasn't been out of that Wookiee suit in over a week (I thought they smelled bad... on the OUTside), the charm is lost. Still, Star Wars dorks are better than Star Trek nerds. "Live long and prosper" my @$$! You freaky sucky trekkies with your stupid pizza-delivery-boy uniforms and your unapproachably esoteric movies. I swear the director of "Nemesis" just left periodically and Brent Spiner (Data, also famous for being the farting villain in "Master of Disguise") just had his robotic way with the script. "Hmm, in this scene, I think I'll sing a song. And here I'll fly like Superman. And now there's two of me! The fans are going to love this!" And was anyone else really just grossed out by the constant references to the nude honeymoon between Deanna Troy and the guy who wrote and directed the movie? If I were that lady, I would have had the heebie-jeebies so bad. But all those nerds were eating it up on opening night, leaning forward in their seets to get a better view should some hot empath skin flash across the screen. I would sooner get on Gates McFadden any day. Oh, crap, I think I've wandered too far out into nerddom for my typical reader. Maybe I'll just talk about my rock collection next time. Or the accompanying rock tumbler and black light to check for phosfluorescent impurities. Anyway, the point is, Star Wars Episode III is really fantastic, but curses to the brainless but loquacious young woman who let it slip that Anakin kills a bunch of little kids (um, belated spoiler alert. Sorry), thus spoiling one of the film's hardest hitting moments for me. And did you all notice how they did NOT kill Jar-Jar? Not even ONCE? Oh, well. At least he died just as many times as he spoke. And now, meesa gosa beddybye, Ani. May the force live long and prosper with you.

Something Else I'm Afraid of

Scaredy's Turn

Well, Scaredy wants to take over for today, to share with all of you the things he's afraid of. Here you go, little guy.

Okay, let's list them off.

#1:




Cats. These things terrify me. They are just tiny little dragons with fur. Why does no one recognize this? Their eyes burn like brimstone in the dark. They are witches in disguise. And there is nothing scarier than a shaved naked cat in the dark. Or so I imagine.

#2:




It was 2002. I was working as the guy who splices the movies together in a movie theatre. Part of my job was staying after all the movies got out and watching the ones I'd just spliced to make sure they were working okay and in the right order. One night, I spliced together M. Night Shyamalan's third major motion picture, "Signs." I ended up watching the movie alone in an empty movie theatre at 1:00 a.m. I believe I might have gone completely mad that night. I screamed and screamed and screamed, curled up into a ball in my seat, yelled at the screen, and clutched the soda-stained arms of my seat in white-knuckle horror. Eventually the film reached its rather uplifting climax, and then the movie ended. I was frozen to my seat. Before I could get up, I found myself hitting the seat next to me to make sure there wasn't a camouflaged alien sitting there. I ran upstairs to the cobweb-laden projection room (more labyrinth than room, I assert) put away the film, and ran willy-nilly all the way back down the stairs, and outside. I took a stick off the ground and poked around in the back seat of the car to see if there was anything there before getting in. On the way home, I got stopped by a languid train out in the countryside, right in front of a cornfield for about ten minutes. I rolled down my window and yelled at the corn, "I KNOW YOU"RE THERE! YOU STAY AWAY FROM ME!" I figured if I were wrong, then nobody would hear me making a fool of myself anyway. Then I looked up at the creepily ethereal train for which I was still waiting, and seemed to see an ectomorphic figure watching me from atop the caboose. I screamed aloud again, and rolled up the window as fast as it would go. I was really regretting at this point that I lived by myself. When I got home, I turned on all the lights in the house and eventually fell asleep in the bathroom (there were no windows in there). The next morning, I was still terrified by light of day. I found myself checking behind doors, leaving unfinished glasses of water on random pieces of furniture, and eventually sheepishly calling a friend and having him come over so I would have my mind on other things. I swear this is the only time I've ever been terrified even after the movie (except for when I was ten and my parents showed us "Night of the Living Dead," but I think I can cite my age as an excuse on that one). Somehow it tapped into something I wasn't even aware of and scared me to pieces.

#3:




Okay, I know you might think I'm joking, but have you ever seen one of these things walk? Yeah, it's slow, but it's also terrifying. And they're actually incredibly fast swimmers. And those claws! Look at them! I heard that sloths are so strong that if one grabs onto your arm, you have to cut the sloth off. I am never letting one of these catch me. Never!

#4:




Disembodied hands. I fear hands crawling on me more than anything. It probably has to do with my dad's habit of drawing a smiley face on his hand before spanking us and saying in a chipper tone, "Mr. Spanky Hand is coming!" I can't even watch the Addam's Family. If you sit next to me with your hand on the table, then start running it toward me, I will probably scream and stab or smash it. You've been warned.

#5:




Midgets. That's right, folks. The wee ones scare me to pieces. I suppose this is all the fault of Vaughan the Evil Midget, an acquaintance from elementary and high school. Once at the mall, I decided I should try to get over my fear of the nasty midgets, so I found one and walked very closely behind her for a little while. I kept trying to get myself to go closer and closer. The problem was, she was taking only the shortest little steps, and I started moving my legs only from the knees down. Soon I fell over, and she turned around to help me up, and extended her midget hand, and I just screamed and scrabbled away as fast as I could go without looking back. Shudder.

#6:




Okay, this is the hardest one for me to do. Spiders. I HATE them. I am so very very afraid of them. Man, this kills me. I almost threw up just then. Even sitting here just thinking about them, I keep hitting my leg every time there's an itch and being very afraid. Okay, breathe. Once, when I was little, a spider had somehow placed its egg sac on the head of my toothbrush. I didn't notice until I had the toothbrush in my hand and literally hundreds of baby spiders running down my forearm. I couldn't seem to get them all off. Oh, man, I hate reliving this. I think I've been scaredy for long enough today. Freaking spider-like itches.

Until next time, Scaredy Smurf

Global Renovation and Gropiation

I found a paper the other day from when I was in first grade. The assignment was to draw a picture of what our perfect bedroom would look like. Mine was all full of balloons and it had a flag from every country in the world. It also had my mom standing over my bed saying, "I owe yuo ten dollars!" The funny thing (besides what a little geography nerd I was) was that the eight or so flags I had drawn in pencil and crayon were remarkably accurate. I had Suriname, Botswana, and Senegal, among others. I thought that was great, seriously.

Check out this great website.

Anyway, Wiggle, Pinetree, The Ring Bearer and I stayed up all night the other night and talked about this globe at Vermillion Skies. It was such a funny geography conversation. I had posed the question, "If you had to eliminate one country from the face of the planet, which would it be and why?" We went on for hours debating the pros and cons (from our limited vantage) of each country. I am still not sure I understand why the Ring Bearer was defending China so vehemently, but they did invent pasta, the compass, and gunpowder, right?

Anyway, I think it's a huge blessing that I've found these friends who can get all passionate about the same things that I've always loved. Maybe some day I will get a flag of every country for my room. Starting with Tajikistan. It's like a connect-the-dots! look:




I really think that one is cool.

Anyway, I voted to get rid of the Philippines. I don't know why, but that country just seems kinda dirty to me. And it's weird that it's just an archipelago. No mainland. And the idea of the Philippines conjures up images of rats in my brain, and those darn Portuguese letting the dogs loose on the dodo birds. I know that was in Mauritius, and it was Spain that colonized the Philippines, but still, there is correlation in my brain. Also, didn't the Filipinos eat Magellan? I'm pretty sure I heard that.

Man, it's always good to have a great light-hearted discussion about mass-destruction and genocide at your nearest decafe at ungodly hours of the morning.

The next night I whomped on my friends at Scrabble, also at Vermillion Skies. I have begun to know half of the people there every time we go in. We invented the intransitive verb "gropiate." Words are always coined during such late-night Scrabble battles. I invented a system of rating one's rack of letters based on playability. If your letters look like this (as Pinetrees did at one point during the night): AEIIIUU, you have Irritable Vowel Syndrome. If you have this one: GJKQTTV, you are consonantpated.

There was a couple gropiating in their car the whole time we were there. When we left Ronnie told them that they got an "A" for stamina. Then we went to Beto's, which called upon its right to refuse us service. I swear the rest of this story is on Ronnie's blog, so you should go there and see it. Imade a series of funny phone calls to their customer comment line. Ooh, and I just realized I have leftover yummy burritos in the fridge, so I'm going to cut this short. Not that it was going in any direction anyway, huh?

I just want to say that Vermillion Skies is a beautiful place, but don't go there because there are too many people like you there already. Unless you bring me with you. Then you're invited. Bye.

Reflections

Why is it so hard to make straight male friends? I thought I was doing a great job of it until everybody just up and jumped out of the closet at the same time like some kind of twisted surprise party. It's been very strange. This leaves me in a weird place. I don't want to pigeonhole myself here. I really do feel like I should be hanging out with straight guys. I don't feel weird or even different around them, and I think it's good for me to have all sorts of friends.

I hate the labels, in a way. Labels are useful when we need a name for something, granted. But they should not become the definitions of things. I am tall. That doesn't mean that tall is me. Tall is not my definition. I have a feeling that when certain people learn that a guy is attracted to members of the same sex, they build up a whole world around him in their minds to explain what he's like. I hate that. I really feel like I'm just like anyone else except for that one small thing. It's nowhere near being the most important thing in my life, but it's also not something I'm afraid of. It's more like something I'm beyond. I'm more of a PoMosexual.

From wordspy: PoMosexual (poh.moh.SEK.shoo.ul) n. A person who shuns labels such as heterosexual and homosexual that define individuals by their sexual preferences. This word combines pomo, shorthand for postmodern, with the suffix -sexual.

Take, for example, when we went 80's clubbing with everyone the other day. There were all these gay guys there, dancing dirty and grinding and stuff. One of them came up to me and tried to get all up ons. I wasn't having it. I just moved right away. Then we have Daniel, my quondam co-worker, who refuses to admit to anybody that he likes boys. It's fine with me if he wants to be like that, but what irks me is that he was gyrating lasciviously with all these skanky guys all night, and then right at closing time he grabbed some girl and sucked on her face ostentatiously right in front of all the co-workers. He had been overheard asking her to make out with him so that his friends wouldn't think him gay. Well, Daniel, your stunt didn't convince anybody that you're not gay. It just showed them that you are a whore.

[Did you know there are certain buildings on campus where you can't pull up my blog because of the content? And now I've added "whore" to the list of naughty words I've used.]

Now here's what bothers me about Daniel and the rest of the guys: I am not like that. My refusal to allow Garet to rub his pelvic region all over my body was due to an actual lack of desire and to an existence of self-respect and restraint, not merely some pretentious desire to win people over or fit in the Mormon crowd. The problem is that the casual observer may have a hard time making that distinction. There are so many gay sluts around that sensible people like me and Pinetree and the Ring Bearer could easily be haphazardly classified as one of "them." Well, I'm not, and I was just as disgusted by their behaviour (if not more so) as anybody else.

I went to Evergreen with Pinetree the other day. This is a place where the "strugglers" go. Evergreen is the church-affiliated support group for men who struggle with "same-sex attraction." Due to the notion that we shouldn't label ourselves according to our sins and temptations, the Evergreenies have abandoned the words "gay" and "homosexual" and, ironically, merely replaced them with the terms "struggler" and "SSA (Same Sex Attraction)."

I used to attend Evergreen regularly. I stopped around Christmas of last year due to an increasing amount of lechery between other "strugglers" outside of meetings and a disturbing tendency the others had to try to get me to feel guilty for not being on the brink of suicide all the time. Here's a typical week at Evergreen, in screenplay form:

"Struggler" #1: Well, I guess I'll go first. This week was really bad. Remember how last week was really bad for me? This week was worse. I "acted out" [a conveniently undefined and ambiguous term that I've learned can mean anything from "logging onto a gay website" to "having anonymous sex in public restrooms"] on Thursday. My life is falling apart. I don't have any friends who I think would accept me if they knew Who I Really Am [Did anyone else catch the logical fallacy in that statement?]. My car broke down, my grades are bad, my wife's Prozac prescription just got more expensive so we're trying to wean her off that, and all I do is sit at my computer for seventeen hours a day chatting with strangers in a gay Nebraska chat room so that I know there's no chance of my meeting them and "hooking up." Other than that I'm good. I know we're supposed to set a goal at the end of this, but I haven't met my goal of the last two months to say my prayers every day, so I'm just not going to set a goal this time. I pass the torch.

"Struggler" #2: Well, I guess it's my turn. I just want to say that this might be my last week coming here to Evergreen [of course, it's not really]. I've noticed that you guys are all a bunch of hypocrites. You come here on Evergreen night and talk about how you want to be all spiritual [very few of them actually remember to get around to the whole spiritual side] and then I see the exact same people at the Club Sound on Gay Night [not me--never been, never will]. Anyway, it's partly that and partly that I don't feel I get the validation I need from you guys anymore. There used to be a time when I could come here and feel loved, and that really helped me to stop from acting out, but lately I feel that I've been abandoned and that nobody is there to stop me from making bad decisions. Anyway, my goal is to maybe forgive you guys and come back next week.

"Struggler" #3: Well, looks like I'm up. It's been a hard week for me. I don't feel attractive. I wish I looked like one of you guys.

"Struggler" #2: Whatever, buddy. You're a very attractive guy, if I may say so.

"Struggler" #1: Yeah, definitely. If I weren't trying so hard to keep the commandments I'd ask you out.

"Struggler" #3: Well, thanks, guys. Anyway, my goal is to start feeling better about myself, even when I do bad things. Over to you, Smurf.

Smurf: Well, my life is great. I've come out to my parents, and there were no problems there. I got accepted as an EFY counselor for this summer, so that's good. I've been reading my scriptures and saying my prayers and I'm all-around very happy. I'm going to cut this short because I have a date with a girl.

"Struggler" whichever: I think you're just bottling up your emotions. You should really let that out. It doesn't seem healthy to me to be in so much denial.

"Struggler" somebody else: I think you're just focusing in on one part of your life and basing your emotions around that. That's not fair to the rest of us who are trying really hard to actually deal with insurmountable struggles.

"Struggler" the last: You are different from the rest of us.

Smurf: Gee, guys. I'm sorry I'm so happy. I didn't realize it could make the rest of you so sad.

"Struggler" #1: That's ok. You'll learn to deal with these things the way the rest of us do soon enough. Anyway, let's have a closing prayer. Oh, and who's coming to the sleepover on Saturday night at my place? I need to know so I can get enough floating coasters for everyone to have a drink in the hot tub.

The End

Okay, so maybe there was a smidgen of hyperbole in the above screenplay, and I also fixed up everybody's grammar, but the general feelings I get at those meetings should come across, I hope. The point is, these are supposed to be the two opposing camps in the gay Mormon underworld. Either I love the sin (and the scene), or I hate myself. Well, they both sound pretty sucky to me. Evergreen saps me (pun intended). I go for one reason: I feel that this is an especial group of people whom I've been specifically primed to help out. They would probably be okay if I stayed away, but there are very few opportunities for me to do such meaningful service.

At any rate, I don't see my sexuality as a major driving force in my life or my personality. I'm not going to cave in, and I'm not going to rewrite my psychological framework to effect some Cathoholic self-castigation, either. I'm just me, and I fancy I have a pretty perspicacious view of the world. I don't really care about keeping up appearances.

Except that I do care. This fall I'll be left bereft of where to live. I don't reckon it would be a good idea for me to move in with someone who's "family" (as we fondly refer to each other in our own microcommunity). Maybe it could work with Pinetree or someone else of such a logical and sagacious nature. But I'm thinking it might be better for me to move in with a "non-struggler," as our Evergreen friends refer to our "straight," or "breeder" friends. The problem is, I really don't know any. I seriously thought I had some lined up, but like I said, they've all come out. Such a bizarre world we inhabit, huh?

I've made friends with co-workers Ben and Chris. I'm hoping that one of them will be right for me to share a place with. We'll have to wait and see, I suppose. Here's where that dilemma comes in, though. Do I inform them of my attractions, thus possibly making things too awkward for the perpetuation of friendship, or do I stay silent at the risk of having the truth later leak out and paint me a liar or coward?

When I first talked to my mom after she read my blog and my original post on my sexuality, she likened it to her deal with being a divorced woman in the church and an adult survivor of childhood incest. For a while after she opened up about her experiences, it became her crusade. She was ensign and bastion for divorced and molested Mormon women wherever she went. After a while, though, she had to just put all that on the altar and mellow out a bit. She predicted during that phone call that I would reach a similar vista some day. Maybe that day is here. I've found tons and tons of friends through my openness here on my blog, and that has been a prodigious blessing. Now it's time, though, to just quietly lean against the wall next to the closet door instead of waving a big banner around and announcing through a megaphone that I'm not in it anymore. There are bigger things in my life, and I'm happy, and I have great friends, and that's what matters right now.

Old Hat New Hat

Ronnie and Chris and I went to Saver's today to buy hats for work tonight ("these clothes smell like grandmas"). I bought four hats:

1. I found a hat that says "Napa." It matches my Napa high sweatshirt perfectly!

2: I got an emerald green hard hat.

3: A turban. We even bought a matching jewel to clip onto the front. I'm going to wear it to work tonight.

4: A baseball cap with my first and last name on it and an Indian in a loincloth with a saw. "Smurf's Cabinetry," it says. only not smurf, but my actual full name. Oh, oh. The sweetest thing.

Anyway, tonight's challenge is to use a line from "Man of the House" during an awkward moment in a conversation tonight. Here is the line: "Well, that plane just crashed into the side of the mountain. Call off the search party. There were no survivors." Though I personally prefer a different line from that movie, which only works in a high Spanish accent: "Pull over! I have to have my baby in America!" Don't see that movie, folks.

Skanks and Flats

I went clubbing for the first time last night. If I owned a nightclub I would call it "Club Baby Seals."

We went to Area 51 for 80s night. I didn't get out of work until 11:00 p.m., and then I had to go home and change. We were just out of Provo when Ronnie showed us her i.d. and I realized I needed mine, so of course we had to go all the way back to my house. When we got to the club, our friends were up on a platform dancing. I got up there with them. I don't dance, but I looked around and realized that everybody was just sort of milling about rather than dancing, so I joined in. Well, after I hit my head HARD on the speaker. I looked this morning and there's a big red mark on my scalp. OOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWW.

Billy Jean by Michael Jackson came on. A skank who was on the dance floor nearby got up and started rubbing herself all over me. She told me she couldn't keep to herself when that song was on. She kept telling me how this was her first time there and asking all these getting-to-know-me questions. I was quite annoyed by her, but I tried to be nice. Eventually I just pawned her off on The Ring Bearer and slipped away.

It was pouring rain when we left the club, and the girls started melting and fraying as girls seem to do in the rain. We went to Denny's. It was fun. When we were finished, we saw that The Ring Bearer's car had a flat tire. Everyone helped to fix it (except for me, because I am useless at that sort of thing). It was great to see Rachel working the jack, Ronnie putting the lugnuts in place, and Lindsay jumping on the wrench while the guys stood around helplessly. It was my my first time to see someone change a tire. It was exciting. Anyway, we got home on the donut and I crawled into bed at 5:45 a.m., which was miserable. Or rather, it was miserable this morning at 10:30 when I had to wake up for work. Another double shift today, just like yesterday. I think we're going to make 80s night a weekly tradition, though.

A Few Things.

Here are some vignettes from my recent experiences.

Sunday night a ton of us decided to go to a bonfire in Diamond Fork Canyon. We met at Betty's house. Then we had to make a few stops and we were to meet at a Chevron station in Spanish Fork or some place. Betty's car wasn't at the Chevron when we pulled in, but Rachel's was. Rachel informed us that Betty was arrested on the way for speeding. We waited around for a very long time for them to bail her out ($207!), and by the time she got there, we decided to just go home. Sorry, Betty.

Pinetree decided he wanted to still make the s'mores when we got back from our hour and a half in the Chevron parking lot, so he and the Blagmeister used the rose-scented Saint candle Eleka and I had bought to bless our Mexican food a few days ago. In the words of one who was there, "These s'mores taste like the virgin Guadalupe."

I waited on a table of four grown-up men from the BYU faculty the other day. They were all adorned in their BYU faculty jackets and shirts. When I approached the table, I heard them talking about breast implants and laughing uproariously. During the course of the meal, their sophomoric conversation included laughter about their farts, semen, and getting their penes (which they lovingly called their "weezers") stuck in things. I was really nonplused. As they left, I noticed the backs of their shirts. "BYU Athletics Department." Ooooohhhh. Duh.

The Archives are Back!!!!!!

While I don't have much time to write anything here, I thought I'd just post some of my favorites of my answers from my stint on the Hundred Hour Board, in case I ever get locked out again. Read them is you will. Here goes:

QDear 100 Hour Board,

If the animals from South America had a "rumble" with the animals from Africa... which group of animals would win, and why?
- Betting on the piranhas' team

ADear Bettin',

South America. They've got Hungry hungry hippos. (I think). Actually, maybe that's Africa.... Hmmm. Well, either way, I'm putting my money on the Hippos. On a side note, I've seen bacteria and microscopic worms from South America that've sent people to their death beds. If their single cell organisms can do that, just imagine what an entire herd of hippos could do. On a second, and final side note (everyone breathes a sigh of relief), I have no idea why the sudden fixation with hippos. I mean really, could an animal be less intimidating? Oh well. That's my answer, and I'm sticking to it.

-Thor

ADear Better,

I say let's break this down. We'll pit South American animals against their nearest African counterparts. South America will appear first in each match so you can tell which side they're representing.

The llama vs. the camel: The camel totally wins this one. It can pack a lot more, and it's bigger and faster and smarter. The llama might have an easier time getting into Heaven, though.

The jaguar vs. the lion: Africa wins again. The lion is king of the jungle, even though it lives primarily in the pride lands. Jaguars actually live in the jungle, but they're not even like dukes or anything.

The capybara vs. the hippopotamus (which is actually from Africa, Thor): Hmm, the world's largest rodent vs. a relative of the pig that can.... Well, just look at this article:
A French zoo director was crushed to death on 1 November by a hippopotamus in a rut. Jean Ducuing was cycling around the park in Pessac, near Bordeaux, when Komir, a seven-year-old male hippo, charged through an electrified fence after an employee driving a tractor stopped to distribute food. M Ducing, aged in his 60s, had trained Komir. Posters for the zoo feature a picture of Komir with M Ducing's head in his mouth. AFP - 2 November; International Herald tribune - 3 November
Or this one (my new favorite thing ever, though very sad if I stop to think about it), attributed to the Melbourn Herald Sun, July 16, 1999:“A dwarf nicknamed Od has died in a circus accident in northern Thailand. According to the Pattaya Mail, he 'bounced sideways from a trampoline and was swallowed by a yawning hippopotamus' which was waiting to appear in the next act. Vets on the scene said Hilda the Hippo 'had a gag reflex that automatically caused her to swallow.' The vet said it was the first time the hefty vegetarian had ever eaten a circus performer. Unfortunately, the 1,000-plus spectators continued to applaud widely until common-sense dictated that there had been a tragic mistake.”

The caiman vs. the crocodile: Well, you never heard the prophet warn against spiritual caimans, did you?

The howler monkey vs. the gorilla: One keeps you up all night. The other DESTROYS you. In sign language.

The piranha vs. the African lungfish: This is a draw. The piranha would win in an all-out fight, but if the Amazon ever dried up, the lungfish would win. And when the rainy season began again, he'd crawl out of the muck and be all, “Boo-yeah” to the dried up corpse of the piranha.

The tapir vs. the elephant: They both have flexible snouts, but one weighs 10,000 pounds. And it's not the tapir.

The great anteater vs. the aardvark: Ok, the great anteater takes this one, just for being great. But wait, here comes the other half of the aardvark's tag team: the pangolin! And the pangolin wins just for being the only mammal with scales, and for being able to roll up into a defensive ball!

The spider monkey vs. the chimpanzee: The chimp can use tools, and is the primate closest in its genetic makeup to man (after woman). Plus, it's up to five times stronger than man. I'm actually kinda scared of them myself.

The rhea vs. the ostrich: The ostrich is way more ginormous than the rhea. Plus, its eggs are extremely more valuable. The ostrich could just sell some of its precious eggs and go buy some wicked awesome artillery with the money. As the ostrich roasts the rhea with his sweet flame-thrower, he says in his best Schwarzenegger voice, “you were born a rhea; now you're gonna die a rhea!”

The puma vs. the fossa (Madagascar is technically part of Africa, I think): The fossa jumps about in the trees like it's nothing. I bet they'd eat a puma for lunch. And wash him down with a panther or cougar or something.

The tarantula vs. those scary African sand crabs from “Winged Migration”: They both eat birds. They both give me nightmares. I'd say the tarantula is more poisonous, plus he can blind the crab by flinging spiky hairs off his back with his hind legs, and then maybe the stupid crab will try to rub his eyes and stab them out with those nasty horrifying pinchers.

The mosquito vs. the tsetse fly: Tsetse sounds pretty bad, but I think Malaria is worse. Gotta go with the Mosquito.

The peccary vs. the warthog: They seem like the same animal to me. But the peccary is uglier, and so maybe the warthog would run away or something.

The cavy vs. the meerkat: The meerkat has a better problem-free philosophy, and is much more intelligent-looking than the cavy, which is really just a South American version of a Guinea Pig.

The poison dart frog vs. the killer bee: The froggy here has more poison in him. It takes a whole posse of bees to kill a man, but only the poison from one frog. True, the bee can fly away, but I bet the frog will use his elastic tongue to catch him back anyway and give him a scolding or thrashing!

The sloth vs. anything, pretty much. I hate the sloth. It's the worst animal. And don't go saying it's a special creation of God. 'Cause then why is it one of the cardinal sins? The thing is so slow, algae grows on it, giving it its grimy green fur. And its fingernails give me the heebie-jeebies like none other. Worst animal ever! But let's just pair him off with, say, the cheetah, just for the fun of it. I think I can say, "enough said." And I think I can say it several times.

The guanaco vs. the giraffe: Ok, so let's say all of a sudden I'm a giraffe. And let's say I have to fight this stupid woolly alpaca thing, and I'm realizing, neither of us has any claws or horns or weapons of any kind. But I can run fast. So what I do is I run around and eat all the leaves off the bottoms of the trees. Then when they're all gone, I can feast upon the upper leaves while guano boy dies of starvation. Hey, all's fair in love and war and fictional epic animal battles.

The burro vs. the zebra: If you look closely, you'll see that these are exactly the same animal. Except one's dressed nicer, so he'll do better in job interviews and things. Plus, the zebra knows how to work the crowd, and he has street smarts. You can either go with the zebra and his zany Fruit Stripe gum, or with the burro and his gloomy Colombia House coffee. Zebra, all the way.

The toucan vs. the hornbill: The hornbill could probably spear that fruity toucan and all three of his lame little nephews with that special spearing horn on his nose. “Just follow THIS, Sammy!”

The anaconda vs. the asp: One killed Cleopatra. The other tried to get Jennifer Lopez, but didn't quite make it. Still, though, for sheer girth, I'm going to give this one to the anaconda. The asp is deadly, but nobody ever made a movie (terrible or otherwise) about it.I think that's about it.

You can do with the wildebeest whatever you'd like. Maybe he's held in Africa's reserve as a secret weapon. After all, they killed Mufasa. Oh, and I was going to pair up the rhinoceros with the triceratops, but then I realized that's a dinosaur, not a South American animal. Still, I would pay good money to see that fight, man.

The final tally is South America 6 : Africa 16 (plus the wildebeest, and oh, yeah, the hyena! duh!). Africa wins, hands down. Glad you asked.

--Wild

QDear 100 Hour Board,

So I have noticed that there are quite a few people here on campus that are democrats. It suprised me when I found out that there is actually a democrat club on campus. So here is my quesion. I don't want to start a political debate, i just want to see this from a church democrats point of view. The church is against abortion, and also against homosexuality. They strongly take their stance in those positions. But the political democrat side is pro abortion and wants more rights for homosexuals. So how does someone who is a church member that is a democrat justify the differences between their political beliefs and church beliefs? I just don't understand how someone could hear a general authority talk about how bad homosexuality is, and then go vote for someone that contridicts that.

- Political Wonderer

ADear Political Wonderer,

That's a valid question. I am not a Democrat, but I dated one seriously for a while, and so I understand a lot of their views that are misconstrued by others. There are several points to consider here.

First, there is no "Gospel Party" or "Mormon Party." Every party out there has policies that in some way conflict with someone's take on the gospel. The Democratic Party's line is one of "pro-Choice" (to use their own term for it), and they are interested in protecting the rights of gay (again, their word, not mine) Americans. These are positions that at first glance seem contrary to the gospel. They may indeed be, but in a moment I'll show you where a lot of this thinking comes from.

The question with homosexuality for a Mormon Democrat is not whether those practices are wrong (we all agree that they are), but whether the government should step in and legislate about it, and whether the people are being protected from discrimination. And don't try to say right away that they shouldn't. I'm pretty far to the right (maybe not quite as much as the Captain), and even I can see that discrimination in one area of a person's life based on a private area is wrong. The gospel stance on how we treat people with same-sex attraction is that we "love the sinner." That does not include preventing them from having certain jobs, nor harming them in any way. Many people will throw out the JST of Matthew 18:9 and say that we are to remove our offending brethren. These scriptures (in my opinion) are evidently about people who are abusive, particularly toward children (as evidences by the context of the chapter). Here is a long passage from Elder Dallin H. Oaks' talk entitled "Same Gender Attraction":

"In a conference address on this same subject, President Gordon B. Hinckley said: 'I desire now to say with emphasis that our concern for the bitter fruit of sin is coupled with Christlike sympathy for its victims, innocent or culpable. We advocate the example of the Lord, who condemned the sin, yet loved the sinner. We should reach out with kindness and comfort to the afflicted, ministering to their needs and assisting them with their problems.'

"Despite such invitations and assurances, the Church and its members continue to experience misunderstandings about our positions on these matters. Last fall in an interview with a television reporter, one of our Church officials was asked, 'What is being done in the Church to try to stop the atmosphere of hate towards homosexuals?' Nine years ago, during a television interview on this subject, I was questioned about reports that the Church taught or implied 'that these people are somehow pariahs … and these people hate themselves and that this is an attitude brought forth by the Church.'

"More significantly, we also receive such questions from faithful members. A recent letter is illustrative:"

'Another concern we have is the way in which our sons and daughters are classified as people who practice deviant and lascivious behavior. Perhaps some do, but most do not. These young men and women want only to survive, have a spiritual life, and stay close to their families and the Church. It is especially damaging when these negative references are spoken from the pulpit. We believe such talks only create more depression and a tremendous amount of guilt, shame, and lack of self-worth, which they have endured throughout their entire lives. There is sometimes a real lack of the pure love of Christ expressed to help them through their ordeals. We will all appreciate anything you can do to help with the plight of these much misunderstood children of our Father in Heaven. If some of the General Authorities could express more sensitivity to this problem, it would surely help to avoid suicides and schisms that are caused within families. Many simply cannot tolerate the fact that Church members judge them as "evil people," and they, therefore, find solace in gay-oriented lifestyles.'

"These communications surely show the need for improvement in our communications with brothers and sisters who are struggling with problems—all types of problems. Each member of Christ’s church has a clear-cut doctrinal responsibility to show forth love and to extend help and understanding. Sinners, as well as those who are struggling to resist inappropriate feelings, are not people to be cast out but people to be loved and helped (see 3 Ne. 18:22-23, 30, 32). At the same time, Church leaders and members cannot avoid their responsibility to teach correct principles and righteous behavior (on all subjects), even if this causes discomfort to some.

"Church leaders are sometimes asked whether there is any place in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for persons with homosexual or lesbian susceptibilities or feelings. Of course there is. The degree of difficulty and the pattern necessary to forgo behavior and to control thoughts will be different with different individuals, but the message of hope and the hand of fellowship offered by the Church is the same for all who strive.

"I tried to describe the crucial distinctions in my answer to the television reporter who implied that the Church taught that 'these people are somehow pariahs.' I said:

"'The person that’s working [to resist] those tendencies ought not to feel himself to be a pariah. Now, quite a different thing is sexual relations outside of marriage. A person engaging in that kind of behavior should well feel guilt. They should well feel themselves estranged from God, who has given commandments against that kind of behavior. It’s not surprising to me that they would feel estranged from their church. What surprises me is that they would feel that the Church can revoke God’s commandments. … To the woman taken in adultery (which is a pretty good precedent for us), … [the Savior] was merciful and loving … , but he said, ‘Go thy way and sin no more.’ He loved the sinner; he condemned the sin. I think the Church does the same thing, imperfectly perhaps, but that’s what we teach our members: love the sinner, condemn the sin."

The most faithful Democratic Mormon is not trying to say that the church (ie. God) needs to change its stance on homosexuality. That person is often trying to say that the church (ie. the members) does. My aforementioned ex-girlfriend, by the way, participated in the Oakland, CA (or was it San Jose?) chapter of MESJ (pronounced "Message," though I was always telling her she should move to have the pronunciation officially changed to "Massage"), and she told me that the issue of same-sex attraction actually came up in a meeting, but the group decided not to touch that issue because it was one on which the various members of the group were split.

That's probably enough on that matter. On to the abortion issue: I am definitely not qualified to speak on this issue, but it has been my experience that most Mormon Democrats (hereafter referred to as Mormocrats for the sake of convenience and humor) are decidedly anti-abortion. This does not mean, however, that they necessarily are in favor of laws that prohibit abortion.

Now, obviously abortion is a vile and disgusting commission of the worst possible of acts against the (arguably) most innocent of victims. Before I go any further with this, let me reiterate that I am merely trying to defend the opinions of others, and I do not herein claim to maintain these positions in my own personal politics, so please do not yell at me. Anyway, the real issue that lies at the center of this matter is not whether a certain thing is against the commandments of the gospel, but whether it's the government's responsibility to step in. This can be seen as a matter of agency.

I've heard two theories about Satan's plan. We'll call them theory "L" and theory "R" (which stand for "left" and "right," in case you missed it). Theory "L" is that Satan was trying to force everyone to be righteous. An obvious way we could combat such a move from Satan would be to only worry about our own righteousness, and let others decide for themselves. Theory "R" is that Satan would make sure everyone was righteous by taking away the consequences of sin. This is the sort of thing you hear about from liberals--the idea that crime can be reduced by legalizing marijuana, for example. That may be an effective way to prevent crime, but it is not an effective way to prevent people from smoking marijuana. This is the same issue for many Mormocrats. They understand that abortion is against the commandments. They often just don't think that it should be against the law, as that limits a person's agency. Another argument they'll use is that during times when abortion was illegal, abortions still happened, but in unsafe conditions by people who were not doctors, thus putting the mother's life in danger as well. Those babies were not saved, and in those cases the mothers were often lost, too.

For the final thread in the tapestry of this answer, we'll have to assume (merely for the sake of illustration) that you're a Republican (which I also am not). To turn your questions around on you, the political Republican side is pro-tobacco and seems to largely ignore the commandments we've been given along with our responsiblity as stewards of the earth (see Doctrine and Covenants 59:18-20. Then think about McDonald's and Walmart and the effect these uber-corporations have on the land and its resources). So how does someone who is a church member that is a Republican justify the differences between their political beliefs and church beliefs? I think the answer to that question is the same as the answer to yours.

The Democratic Party does a seemingly better job that the Republican Party of a) keeping the commandments about caring for the poor, b) preaching the equality spoken of in Mosiah 27:3, and c) renouncing war (Doctrine and Covenants 98:16), as well as other matters that have been mentioned already, or that can be found by checking out http://www.gomakecontact.com/mesj/about-us/mission.html. I am going to send a copy of this to their contact e-mail to see if they feel it does the issue justice.

And that's all I have to say about that. Wow. Sorry I got carried away.

--Soapbox of Lies

CDear 100 Hour Board,

Sorry Uffish, I do have gmail otherwise I would thank you directly. You still rock though, and so does Skippy. Oh, and now BHM rocks too. Whoever BHM is. Anyone who likes granola people rocks.

- kesstacular

ADear bunnicula,

I like people granola. Do I rock?

--A cannibal

QDear 100 Hour Board,

I caught this Preying Mantis today and as it walked it would take a few steps, snatch at the air, and hop 3 inches. Take a few steps snatch at the air, hop forward three inches... So I put in a tree and it sort of continued in this pattern--climbing a bit and reaching out for leaves, etc. So I'm wondering exactly how much of a preying mantis' brain is instinct and how much is intellect. Preying manti are cool!

- Deb Robbins

ADear Deb,

Well, insects are strange things. The best argument I found on the instinct vs. intellect thing was actually on some Islaamic studies website. Check out the idea: colonies of ants and bees have an advanced society with complex inner workings that we humans could never hope to achieve. However, those communities are probably exactly like communities of ants from thousands of years ago. Humans, on the other hand, have had various ages (e.g. The Bronze Age or the Nuclear Age). We advance ourselves, and that sets us apart from the insects. Yes, maybe they have fascinating systems, but there's never a time when an insct says to itself, "Hey! I have a better idea on how to do this stuff." According to most modern scientists, insects are creatures of instinct, and not intellect. They're still cool, though. Have you noticed that mantises look a lot like aliens?

Oh, and Brainy Smurf wanted me to mention one more thing. "Mantis" comes from the Greek word for prophet or diviner. Greek suffixes seem to confuse people when it comes to pluralization. So here are some basic rules and then some examples of times when they're commonly misused: If a word from the Greek ends in "us," it is changed to an "i" to make it plural. If it ends in "is," it changes to "es." If it ends in "um," it changes to "a." Examples: axis=axes, focus=foci, agendum=agenda. Got it? Now the proper pluralization of mantis is "mantises," or if you want to sound cool and educated (which you obviously do), "mantes" (pronounced MAN-teez). You can indeed use the "i" at the end of cacti and octupi. "cactuses," "cactus," and "octopuses" are all correct alternative plural spellings of those words, too. Note that those words both have Greek roots. Walrus, which comes from Scandanavian roots, is not ever correctly rendered "walri." Use "walrus" or "walruses" instead.

--Wild

QDear 100 Hour Board,

What do you think about Descartes message, "I think therefore I am"? Do you think that he knew who he was before he said this or do you think that he thinks? Speaking of thinking, what do you think about the Thinker? Do you think the guy that posed for that got tired? Because, hello, I mean wouldn't you? And Tom Selleck in those 80's shorts and I love the Island Hopper uniforms. Love Yourself!
- Love me like you love Cows

ADear Love you from a distance,

We do appreciate when you split up unrelated questions into separate posts."Cogito ergo sum" is a great philosophy in my opinion. I have many wannabe friends who say things just to sound all nihilistic and ethereal. So the whole Descartes thing comes in handy when they say stuff like, "How do we even know if any of us exists (well, they say "exist," but I can't bring myself to consciously type bad grammar)?" To me, "I think, therefore I am" is the perfect counter to this. Obviously you exist if you're able to wonder if you do. Something is doing the wondering. The Thinker always makes me think of Dobie Gillis. I think that would be a cool name for a kid, but I bet everyone would think I got it from "Dobby" (a.k.a. Wannabe Gollum) of Harry Potter fame. The Thinker, though, is pretty neat. Statues can tell us a lot about ancient cultures. The Thinker tells me that back in the day before T.V. Guide or Uncle John's bathroom reader, they used to just sit there and think. What a neat concept! I don't think anyone had to pose for too long. The rest of your question doesn't really seem to be a question, so I'm not going to touch it.

--Brainy

QDear 100 Hour Board,

It seems the new athletic building has come complete with it’s own strawberry patch. Are there any policies (rules) on (against) students (me) picking (eating) the berries? Are there any other edible fruits growing on campus?

Many thanks,

A hungry student

ADear (esteemed) hungry (homeless) student (drifter),

The school (university) doesn't (does not) have (maintain) any policy (rule) against (precluding) the consumption (and subsequent digestion) of the strawberries (which are not actually berries). Students (you) can (may) eat (devour) the strawberries (not berries), but take heed (precaution): Physical Facilities (the Grounds crew) sprays (drenches) the soil (glorified word for dirt) with pesticides and herbicides (various poisons). Eat (ingest) them (the strawberries) if you (hungry student) will (want), but wash (rinse) them (the strawberries) before (prior to) doing so (eating them [the strawberries]). Thanks (grammercy) to Valerie (that's her real name) in the Physical Facilities (grounds) office (place of work).

--Greedy (covetous)

p.s. (postscript) You (hungry student) had better (should) get there (arrive) before (prior to) I (Greedy Smurf) do (get there).

And don't ever write like that again (please).

CDear S.K.,

i have seen the modern-day prophet playing cards at macey's by the checkout counters. however, i haven't been there in a while, so no guarantees.-

peanut

ADear all,Oh boy! It's punctuation time! Today's lesson: the hyphen (I promise I'm not making fun, but I thought this sentence was too funny to pass up).

We use a hyphen to connect an adjective to a noun when they're both being used to describe a noun. For example, when describing the prophet (noun), we call him "modern-day." The adjective "modern" is linked by a hyphen to the noun "day."

We don't do the same thing when the noun comes first. For example, we say "brick red house." To descibe a house that is the color of bricks. No hyphen. If we want to describe a house made of red bricks, though, we would call it a "red-brick" house. Or if we want to describe a red house made of bricks (maybe brown bricks painted red?) we would say "red brick house," since the red and brick aren't connected.

We hyphenate two nouns, as well, when they are describing another noun. Thus, "He has a dog-day mentality," or "That's a nice ice-cream-man mustache."

The reason I bring this up here is because this sentence is missing a hyphen, so it's saying something Peanut probably never intended. See? Peanut saw the modern-day prophet playing cards at Macey's. "Modern-day" is describing "prophet," whereas "modern-day-prophet" should be describing cards. It just makes it sound like Peanut saw President Hinckley playing poker at Macey's. Funny, huh? Oh, nevermind. I think I'm probably alone on this one....

--Brainy

QDear 100 Hour Board,

What do you do if someone threatens to scare you so badly you'll wet yourself? Is there any way to prepare yourself other then going to the bathroom previous to the time when you think you'll be scared?

- Wetless and Waiting

ADear waiting,

Depends.

--Jokey

QDear 100 Hour Board,

Why do they say that it is not a good idea to eat "jack" rabbits when hunting? In other words, cottontail rabbits are considered okay to eat but the "jack" aren't. What's the deal? Can I eat one? What might happen?

Curious

ADear Curious,

Jack rabbits are actually hares. There is a high level of superstition surrounding hares. It has been believed that witches transmogrify themselves into hares. Hares also have longer legs and tend to run faster (70 km/hr!) and be more active, so the meat is tougher and stringier. Stick to rabbits if you must eat a lagomorph.

--Wild

ADear Curious,

Hunters aren't the only ones who don't eat hares. Have you ever gotten a hare in your soup? What do you do? You send it back.

--Jokey

QDear 100 Hour Board,

Why do the word spelled B-R-E-A-K and the word spelled S-P-E-A-K not rhyme?

--Kitty the Badger

ADear Kitty the Badger,

I hope this post isn't lost on you. It's been seen that our language can be tough to sort through, though. I'm in danger of anger when I wonder or ponder about how easily "laughter" becomes "slaughter." So, do not despair when the good food of language is full of worms, or storms of linguistic trickery blow (and how!); keep in mind that the wind and rain go away, and again you'll feast on breast of beast that's better (but close) to those whose descriptions you'll ever read (or have read). My point is this: we English speakers are rule-breakers, and have come home to an accord about how a word is said, so "plaid" and "raid" are friends (not fiends) and you can bear to hear that there's no thought of a drought, that we're far from war and from harm and we're warm, and that "worm" is the norm.

--Poet (with help from his imaginary fiends, Darren and Warren)

Well, I haven't even delved into the confessor's stuff. I just searched for brainy, jokey, and poet so far. I'm sure I'll have plenty more that I want to keep for posterity's sake. Thanks for indulging me.