A New Post!

I basically need this picture so I can link to it elsewhere. It all has to do with my obsession for Lost. This is going to be the mother of all (recent) blog posts because I promised you the story of the Valentine's Day Surprise, plus I just finished an eight-page sociology paper that I want to share with you all. And besides, it's been a heck of a while. But first, for your reading pleasure, I'll also include a transcript of a conversation that went down in my film class the other day and had me rollin'.

Girl [interrupting teacher]: Wait a minute! Didn't you say we were going to have a special guest this week!?
Teacher: Oh, you mean like we had the other week when we talked to a real cinematographer who worked on the set of CSI?
Girl: No! I mean, didn't you say you were going to have someone in here to observe your teaching, and we were supposed to make really good comments and make you look good?
Teacher [turning to the gentleman sitting next to her]: Heh heh, yeah, I kinda prepped them that you were coming last week, kind of as a joke, and kind of so they would be prepared.

[beat]

Girl: Oh. This is a really great class.

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So a few days before Valentine's Day this year, I decided to make some enchiladas (I make really good sour-cream-based enchiladas, based loosely on my mother's recipe). As I was at the supermarket purchasing the ingredients, mostly on a caprice I decided to buy some red food coloring and make special Valentine's enchiladas. Valentine's Day Surprise, I would call it. As I mixed tons of food coloring in with the filling, my roommates expressed their disapproval. I can't blame them; It really did look more like a Jell-o salad than anything one would want in his spicy Mexican food. But if I think something is funny enough, you can't stop me from doing it.

The Valentine's Day Surprise was a huge success! Meaning that I thought it was delicious AND hilarious, while no one else would really touch it. Over the next couple of days I ate tons of that stuff, as well as making other special Valentine's treats, like Valentine's coconut juice, Valentine's milk, etc. Man, I think I am funny.

Of course, none of that was at the forefront of my mind on February 14th when I was staring, in complete shock, at the bloody stool in the toilet in the college's men's room. My thoughts went kinda like this:

"Oh. Crap. I am broken. How far up my digestive tract am I bleeding? That is so much blood! Aaaaaaa! Do I need to take this to a doctor? How am I going to get that out of there!? Maybe there is a plastic bag in here like lining the trash or something. But then what? Do I go to the rest of my classes? Can I just carry that thing around with me in my backpack? Surely people will smell that, even through a plastic bag. Maybe I should call one of my roommates. Should I even be standing up? What could have caused this!?"

At which point I remembered the Valentine's Day.

Surprise!
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In case you are trying to call me, don't. My phone's battery died. And then I broke it. And then I lost it. It's pretty much the Rasputin of phones. And if you left me a message at any point in the last three weeks, I don't hate you (probably); I just never got it. Some day when I have recovered from the financial crisis I like to call "tuition," I will get a new phone.
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Finally, here is the paper I wrote today. It's mostly a book report for my sociology class. I find this stuff to be terribly interesting.

Analysis of “Michael Jordan and the New Global Capitalism”

Michael LaFeber was wise to chooses Michael Jordan and the Nike Corporation as his subjects for his book, “Michael Jordan and the New Global Capitalism.” First of all, because attaching the name “Michael Jordan” to the title of his book (and subsequently telling Jordan’s life story throughout) was guaranteed to sell more copies of the book, thus getting his message about a new global economy to more people. Secondly, because Jordan’s story really does align well with the history of this new economy. Jordan’s career falls somewhere between example and metaphor of American culture and technology and their effect on the world. Finally, this book is about power. It is about a powerful man, who represents a powerful nation. The central argument of the book seems to be that America’s ability to change the world is massive, and that we as American citizens must now wield that power responsibly.

The first chapter of the book (pp. 27-48) is all about basketball. This chapter details the history of basketball, its inclusion of blacks in professional leagues, and the beginnings of capitalist endeavors to make a profit from the sport. Also discussed is the subject of Michael Jordan’s home life in North Carolina and his college years of playing basketball. LaFeber uses this chapter to set the stage for the broader economic and political topics that will be discussed later, as well as to ease the reader into a long-range sociological way of thinking about things that we 21^st-century Americans take for granted.

Chapter two contains an interesting section entitled “Enter the Transnational Corporation.” Here we are introduced to Nike, a company that is American, but somehow has more than half of its employees, as well as more than half of its sales, abroad. (p. 55) The idea of a corporation dealing internationally is not a new one, LaFeber informs us, but the idea of the new transnational corporations of the 1980s differed from that of their predecessors in a few major ways. These new corporations no longer relied primarily on American markets while dabbling in foreign markets, they traded less in goods than in ideas and designs and knowledge, they relied extensively on foreign labor, they committed huge amounts of capital to overseas advertising, and most importantly, they were able to transcend national barriers and therefore were immune to many of the governmental restrictions formerly placed upon corporations. (pp. 54-56)

Later in this chapter we learn of the history and impact of satellite communication technology on the world. Wealthy and powerful men such as Walter Murdoch and Ted Turner created enormous cable networks that would cross international lines that could bring the same news and entertainment (and naturally advertisement) to people all around the world (p. 71). Turner, we learn, banned the word “foreign” from his broadcasts on all stations, preferring to think of his network as global instead (p. 72). The fact that satellite television preceded the internet might help to explain the idea that America’s culture became so pervasive on the world scene; after all, the most important difference between the two is that the internet allows two-way communication, whereas satellite television allowed what America was broadcasting to be seen by the world without allowing for a response from the world back to America. According to a statistic from the book, 80 percent of European television programs came from the United States, whereas only one percent of American shows originated somewhere besides the U.S. (p 110).

The one-way nature of this exchange is supported by more statistics in chapter three. Here, LaFeber concedes that Europe and Japan did indeed supply the American market with many of their goods (mostly in the form of electronics, vehicles, and high fashion), but he is quick to point out that “(t)he $2 billion or so of high-fashion exports into the United States were dwarfed by the many billions of revenue generated overseas by Nike, McDonald’s, and Disney.” (p. 81, emphasis added)

LaFeber interweaves these facts about the early effects of huge American corporations on the world (along with the first intimations we see of resistance from a foreign nation, France) with stories of Michael Jordan’s growing athletic success and national stardom.

Michael Jordan and the head of Nike, Phil Knight, both benefited enormously from the new global communications and economy that were in place by the 1990s. Knight had found that it was lucrative for him to move his business to where there were fewer regulations imposed on employers. The first Nikes were manufactured in Japan in the 1960s, but with the boom in communications technology on the 1970s and 80s, Knight saw that “production could be done nearly anywhere.” (p. 103) As Japan became more successful and started endowing its workers with more rights, LaFeber reasons, it became more profitable for Knight to move production of his merchandise to other Asian countries, starting in Korea, Indonesia, and Viet Nam, and landing eventually in China. (p. 104). A Reebok official referred to this constant movement (in which his company also engaged) as “chasing wages around the globe,” and admitted that “[t]here has to be a better way.” (p. 155)

Sadly, these new Asian sources of labor were beneficial to Nike precisely because they exploited the workers. According to U.S. women’s groups, the “Indonesian, Vietnamese, and Chinese workers… suffer from inadequate wages, corporal punishment, forced overtime, and/or sexual harassment.” (p. 144) 90 percent of the workers in Vietnam were “women who worked twelve-hour days [and many] reportedly fainted from exhaustion and malnutrition (p. 148). Adding to the ethical problems of manufacturing in impoverished China was the 1989 killing by the communist Chinese government of “large numbers” of dissenters, which caused Congress to restrict trade with the nation. Fortunately for Nike and other transnational corporations, President Bush vetoed this restriction. (p. 105)

Not only did new communications technology supply new, cheaper sources of labor, but it also provided entirely new pools of consumers. Unfortunately, many of these target groups were unable to afford the products with which advertising aimed at them tantalized them. Reports surfaced of inner-city children selling drugs or even killing each other in order to obtain the Michael Jordan Nikes they had no licit means of acquiring (p. 91).

At the same time as these more negative aspects of the Nike company were coming to light, Michael Jordan experienced a succession of setbacks to his image. He was at the center of scandals that focused on his gambling, his association with shady characters, and his refusal to wear Adidas paraphernalia in front of the world at the Olympics (pp. 96-101). As Jordan felt his privacy diminishing, and in the wake of his father’s murder, he retired briefly from the National Basketball association (pp. 121). In the interim, he played professional baseball, though his statistics weren’t very impressive.

During all of this (the exploitation of Asian laborers, the advertising targeted at poor black audiences to whom Nike nor Jordan reached out, and Jordan’s personal tragedies and shortcomings), the media and technologies that had once elevated Jordan and Nike to their global statuses turned on them. LaFeber describes a “Faustian bargain” that they had made with the media: they had put themselves under the world’s microscope in order to make money, but were stuck under the microscope when there were certain aspects of their existence that they would prefer to have remained unexamined (p. 115). Sales of Nike products, as well as sales of other Jordan-endorsed products, continued to climb, but Jordan and Nike had to pay “a price for being dependent on the new media.” (p. 153)

As Nike and Jordan grew rich off of other countries, those countries began to show signs of change. Sneakers hit the runways in Paris fashion shows (p. 109), South African street gangs “called themselves ‘The Young Americans’ and the ‘JFKs,’” (p. 138) while McDonald’s (another Jordan endorsement) shut down German, Austrian, and Swiss street vendors (p.140) and reached the point where it was feeding “one percent of the world’s population each day.” (p. 156). This cultural influence America and its corporations was having on the world is what is called “soft power,” soft because it’s consensual and not a forced influence like military might or political maneuvering (p. 109). One is not to believe that the word “soft” implies that the power is weak; American soft power had a very real effect on other nations, “not only chang[ing] buying habits in a society, but modify[ing] the composition of the society itself.” (p. 157)

This could be a good thing. One could cite the new existence of a small middle class in China as an example if U.S. democracy beginning to have a positive influence in a foreign market. The fact that American goods were not forced upon other nations, but rather traded (p. 156), highlights a major difference between this new “cultural imperialism” and the old traditional “imperialism” against which the Americans fought in the Revolutionary War.

The problem, as the world saw it, is the same as with capitalism here in the United States: he who has more capital begins with an advantage (p. 164). And on the global scale, this means the U.S. The United States had the upper hand on capital and the new technology because at the end of the Cold War, it had “adjusted to the post 1970’s technology and Communism had not.” (p.162).

The final chapter of the book focuses on the effects of the terrorist attacks on the United States on September 11^th, 2001, on the global economy. Interestingly, the terrorists, who were fighting against the overreaching arm of American cultural, economic, and military influence, were able to accumulate power and perform their terrorist acts only by using the very communications technologies that had been used to spread that American influence in the first place (pp. 166, 181). Osama bin Laden was, in a way, the anti-Jordan, while his shadowy terrorist alliances became the anti-Nike. Bin Laden used his popularity in the Islamic world and the power of satellite television to sell people on his political ideals, while Al Qaeda took advantage of the same border-blurring transnationalism that Nike and other American Corporations had been enjoying for a few decades now (p. 173).

Also interesting is the way in which America’s vision of a peacefully globalized economy was hobbled at the same time Jordan’s career was ended due to knee injuries (p. 171). The spread of the American economy into other countries had flourished at the exact time that Jordan’s career and fame had, and in 2001 and 2002, both felt the effects of having driven too hard and too fast.

America by this point was so engrained in the cultures and economies around the world that when it suffered from a major technology crash during the years on either side of the terrorist attacks, it ended up hurting other countries (those which relied upon American purchasing power to pay for the goods they produced) even more (p. 172). The American government’s reaction to the terrorist attacks had similarly devastating effects overseas. For example, new government sanctions against immigration “prevented the movement of cheap, or highly specialized, labor from one country to another.” (p.173)

The September 11^th attacks had other sociological effects on the world, as well. The American government hired an advertiser to try to sell American democratic and capitalistic values to Islamic nations (p. 182). It also began to attempt to censor the news media with regard to the war in Afghanistan that ensued after September 11^th (p. 183).

LaFeber points out that not all of the effects of the new globalization are negative. One huge benefit appears to be the fact that as women in developing nations are made more aware of international issues, they have slowed their birth rate, leading analysts to believe that the once-impending crisis of an ever-expanding population has now been averted, as it looks like the world’s population might level off at 9 billion, instead of passing the 10 billion mark and continuing indefinitely. (p. 184). LaFeber claims that due to the new technology, “women were watching satellite television, [and] learning about small families and contraceptive devices from western television programs….” (p. 184) “U.S. expansion and profits,” he asserts, “were neither naturally good nor naturally evil.” (p 186)

The book ends on an embittered note, contrasting Jordan, who has unprecedented international clout but has never taken a public political or social stance, with black baseball pioneer Jackie Robinson, who in the 1940s inspired blacks across national lines with message of human rights (p. 188). LaFeber’s message here is clear: A powerful entity, such as Michael Jordan, or, through metaphor, The United States of America (which in actuality means each of us, the American people) has a responsibility to make sure that its considerable power, which is by nature neutral, is used responsibly. Jordan and Nike could have reached out to the inner-city youth, to the impoverished blacks of America, or to the practically enslaved workers in Nike’s overseas factories. The same technology that has created such an imbalance in the world market has also been used to educate and liberate people and to do an incredible amount of good. But if we Americans are not careful and respectful with the enormous influence this book proves we indeed wield, we have the potential to do an incredible amount of harm.

P.S. Thanks for all the feedback on the previous post! I love you guys! You inspire me to write more often.

P.P.S. I kinda came out to my entire Sunday School/bishopric & wives dating panel on Sunday. It was... great? More next time? Maybe.

What I Did In Church On Sunday

People are always asking me why I'm afraid of midgets. Well, here's the definitive answer, in storybook form. It's a definite departure from my norm. I offer this flotsam up in the wake of my last post's political incorrectness:



























Man, I don't know what's wrong with me. The last thing I need is to be haunted by a midget ghost. I hope you enjoyed this.

Double Feature

Part One: Homemaking Night

So Pinetree has this roommate. He's a nice guy, but he has some questionable taste. Like, for instance this poster that he puts up in their living room. It's all, "Marines: liberators, protectors, warriors." And it shows this marine all gussied up in his killing gear and it looks kinda like this, only nighttime:















And so naturally, Pinetree hates the poster, right? I mean, besides being flagrant propaganda, it's not like it's even a cool picture. Seriously it's lots lamer than the above picture. So anyway, Pinetree comes up with this ingenious plan. We're gonna steal the poster. Only we can't just take it down, because then it will be totally obvious that he did it, because who else cares what posters are up in somebody's house? So Pinetree decides to make up some girls and then we can frame them.

So I borrow some pink and yellow construction papers from Wiggle and write in my stupid-girl handwriting a message that's all, "If you ever want to see your poster again come to apartment 9 tomorrow at 7" or something. And then I cut it up in little puzzle pieces.

Then we decide to make some cookies to sweeten the deal, with a little note that's like, "There's more where this came from." But we also decide to make the cookies really nasty just because that's funny, right?

Well, a few days pass, and before we can get in there to do it we end up at Denny's at midnight with a buncha friends, including Vero Awesome. And she's all, "Time for frivolity, yo." So we're all, yeah, let's go make cookies. And somebody has the sweet idea to just buy some cookies at the store and then frost them with something nasty. So we choose toothpaste. The only problem with toothpaste is it might not be nasty enough, and there's a little note on the box that goes, "If more than the normal amount used for brushing is swallowed, contact a physician or a poison control center immediately." So we're worried they'll be all, "Mmmm, minty cookies" and eat 'em all and totally croak, as opposed to them being all, "Blech! Aquafresh cookies! Angry!" and then we all laugh. So we go to the store, and we open one container to see if it's nasty enough, but it's blue stripes, so before we even try it, we decide to close it back up and put it back on the shelf. But it's not staying closed, see, so we go to the tape aisle and get some tape and tape it shut and put it back. And the tape. We put them both back.

And then we decide on the Pepsodent and it's white, and it's me and Vero and Wiggle and Pinetree, and Wiggle says we need sprinkles to heighten the effect, and she's right of course. S owe get those too, and Vero wants to also give cookies to these two dudes we work with named Ryan and Greg who are roommates, so we get more cookies and we get cards for them. And we sit around in the parking lot, frosting the cookies with ghetto plastic knives I horked from the deli part of the store, even though it was closed and all these break-taking employees were sitting over there looking at me like, "What the? Did that Arabian dude just walk in here and steal plastic knives?" And yes, yes I did.

So we frost the cookies, and the womenfolk sign the cards (which are perfect to begin with because they talk about "more love where these come from" or some crap), and Vero gives us two wonderfully horrible long dyed-red hairs to frost into the cookies (one for each plate). Then we are still a bit worried about, like, what if the guy eats the cookies and is all, "mmm, like thin mints, delish!" and eats them all and dies. After all, the box the paste came in has that little warning on the bottom for a reason, I point out. So Wiggle suggests we just cut that thing out and tape it on the bottom of the plate of cookies. Good thinking, Wiggle! So we do, thus assuaging our guilt in a very legally permissible way.

And we go to Greg and Ryan's first, and Racherella tells us where they keep their key, and I go, but I can't find the key, so I doorbell ditch it and go running out of there like a rabbit from a dog show. But on the way out Vero notices that we got the wrong apartment, so I go back, and fortunately the plate and the card are still sitting there, and we take it to the right apartment and I go in and leave it on their counter and this time sneak out like a mouse at a, um, nother dog show.

And then we go to Pinetree's, and Vero Awesome takes the cookies and the feminine puzzle and comes back out with the poster (remember that's why we did all this in the first place?) and we give it to Dice and we go home and go to bed. It was frickin' awesome, and it reminded me that I can have mischievous fun without getting the police involved.

Part Two: Connections

I have been to see Dr. Robinson four times now. He's incredible. He talks to me for forty-five minutes, asking questions and taking these big long pauses as he considers what to say next. When I speak, he writes everything down, scribble scribble scribble, on his clipboard. He goes through several sheets of paper each time, because I can be quite loquacious. I told him next time I'm bringing a clipboard and writing down everything he says, and then pausing for a few minutes and sighing before responding every time, and see how HE likes it. I don't know if he even understood what I was talking about on that one. After the forty-five minutes he starts telling ME things, and the pieces click together, and I feel like I have been tricked into learning so much.

Anyway, the first time we were together, he taught me something cool that I had thought I already knew about myself and the way brains work.

He gave me an example. He said we take the word "cat." And we take the spelling of the word. He drew this all out for me on paper. He said we can take a baby and teach it that the word means the spelling, and it will learn it. You say the word, the baby will pick out the spelling. He said that we can then take the cat itself and teach the baby that the word means the cat. Then he said that we can also teach these things to animals. A dolphin or a dog or a bird can learn to pick the right one from among misleading choices. You say "cat" and the monkey will point to the cat.

The difference, he said, is that the baby will also automatically learn that the spelling means the word, as well. He will learn it both ways. He will also learn that the cat means the word. And then he will learn that the spelling means the actual cat and vice versa. Humans make six automatic connections where the animals will learn only two. It's what sets us apart as humans, he said. Our ability to make connections. Our minds become a web of connections and it's how we learn and deal with the world.

The cool thing is that I am well aware that my mind forms these connections. I assign everything a color, I spell it out in my head. I alphabetize all items in groups. Like you say "colors," and I start to think "amethyst, apricot, azure, black, blue, brown, burgundy, burnt orange, etc...." And that's just now off the top of my head. The Human mind is amazing. Given a minute or two, we can eventually find a specific link, no matter how feeble between any two given things. For instance, if you had to say how turnips are the opposite of marbles, you could. Or you could find a way in which carpets are the parent of Puff Daddy.

Anyway, the good Dr. R. next drew the word "Rob." That's my dad's name, as well as a variant of my own, since we technically have the same name. So then he wrote "Dad" and draws an arrow between the two. Then he wrote "me" and drew an arrow from "Rob" to "me." Are you picturing this? then he draws all the other arrows, back from "me" to "Rob" and from "Dad to "Rob" and between "me and "Dad" both ways. No wonder I balk at anyone's calling me "Rob," he says. I immediately connect myself to my dad, and his failures. He next wrote "disaster" and drew the arrow from "Dad" to that. And then all kinds of other scary things my dad has done. And all of it connected to me and my dad through arrows.

I'd always known my brain does that, you see. I just had only been paying attention to the aspect of the connection building that helps me to win board games. I wasn't aware that it was also leading to problems in my life.

So the goal is not to break down those connections, but rather to loosen them, and to build up stronger connections that will supersede those other ones.

This last time we talked about prayer, among other things. Dr. Robinson said he has some patients whom he can't cajole into praying, and that he thinks that's a major factor for success. And on the way home (I always walk home so I can process what I've learned), a thought struck me. On my mission I worked very hard to actually "pray always," as Second Nephi suggests. I spent a lot of time studying and pondering how to actually do that. And I learned some helpful methods. One has simply to direct his thoughts, whatever they be about, to God, keeping Him in the forefront of the mind at all times. One can in this way be sure that his actions are in step, as well. It's the idea behind the CTR ring. Every time you see it there on your finger, you remember the good that you need to be doing. On my mission I met a man named Elías, who was trying to quit smoking. This is not a happy mission story where we helped him to quit smoking and he got baptized and is now first counselor in the branch presidency. It's just a time that I learned an important lesson. One day Elías had a piece of string tied around his finger. He said it was to help him remember to not smoke. When asked about the efficacy of the string, he replied that it didn't work because it kept coming off, and he'd forget. So I gave him my CTR ring. I told him that every time he saw it or felt it or noticed it, he was to pray for the strength he'd need to quit smoking. And I promised him that every time I noticed that the ring was gone or my finger felt naked, I'd pray for him as well. And it worked, as far as reminding me went. I didn't need the ring to remember to choose the right. The absence of the ring could serve the exact same function.

So on this walk home from my weekly session with the therapist, I came to realize that praying always was simply a matter of making everything remind me to choose the right. I had to make ALL the connections connect back to God. I looked around me at the mountains and the sun and the long straight stretch of University Avenue and saw gospel symbolism and turned my thoughts to God. But it's easy with roads and mountains. I needed to connect EVERYTHING. Turnips and carpet and cats and Puff Daddy and my own daddy all need to make me think of God and the things with which he has blessed me and the things he requires of me.

And when I do spiritual things, like going to church or the temple or reading my scriptures, I need to relate them back to the rest of my life, so that those connections already exist when I go out into the world. I realized that's why Nephi also tells us to liken the scriptures to ourselves. It's why Christ taught his parables using images from the people's daily lives. Not just because those are the things they could understand, but also because those are the images the people would be seeing every day after Christ was no longer in their presence.

At one point this last week, Dr. Robinson just leaned back, sighed contemplatively, and said, "You're very weird." That has to make you feel great, right? When a guy whose job it is to deal with crazy people tells you you're very weird? Anyway, the week before he'd been telling me I needed to cut out everything gay in my life, because it could become a trigger. But this last time he said he wasn't so sure any more. I could tell he was struggling to reconcile this with his hard fast rules he'd (until then) entertained. At any rate, we both left there wondering what to do, but by the time I got home I knew. I need to consecrate myself a little more. I need to keep saying my prayers throughout the day, every time I need something or am thankful for something or thinking of someone. I need to connect my life and my surroundings to my God, so that all things point more directly toward him, because I owe him, and I love him.

The Best (Worst) of Gargamel

Hmmm, as long as I, Gargamel, have been given control over this stupid blog (thanks, Wiggle) I think I'll hold on to it for a while. Here's the best of the things I wrote as Gargamel when I was a writer for the 100 Hour Board. Hope you hate it. (For those who don't get what the Board is, it's a question and answer place, and I used to answer the questions. So I'll give you the questions asked, followed each time by the answer I gave.)

QDear 100 Hour Board,
What is the coolest thing I could do for a guy with out spending very much money. Baking cookies and the usual, what every girl does ideas don't count. I am looking for the best thing to do for cheap that would make the guy go, "wow, that was nice." or better yet, "She must really care, maybe I can take a hint."
- Tinker Bell

ADear Tink,
You could wash his car, or do something useful. You could write him a kind note. You could cook him some spaghetti. You could start to do some of the menial every-day tasks of life for him, like buying groceries or opening the mail. You could start a journal of what he was wearing that day, and you can also write down everything he said to you or near you, and then after a few weeks, you can leave the journal somewhere where he can stumble across it, like his underwear drawer. Make sure you make it cute with puff paint and glitter. I know that a lot of guys have a hard time getting to bed on time, so another idea would be to sit outside his bedroom window at night, and watch him until he goes to bed. If he starts staying up past the time that is good for him, you can call him from your cell phone. Everyone could use a friendly reminder from time to time. Now, don't say anything at that point, because that might be too obvious that you like him. But if you remain completely silent, he might just think it was a wrong number and ignore it and stay up late. You're better off making some sort of noise, like heavy breathing, grunting, or slurping. Soon he'll come to realize that that's just an admirer's friendly little way of reminding him that it's bed time. Another cool thing would be to get samples of his hair, and have genetic tests run on them to see if there are any congenital birth defects he should be aware of. What guy wouldn't be appreciative of that much effort? If there are extra hairs, or if the tests turn out to be too expensive, you can tape them into the journal before you slip it in with his tighty-whities. The coolest thing of all would be to clandestinely take a picture of him and photoshop it into an engagement picture of yourself. I recommend the kind where you are in a tree and you're dressed in matching denim vests--very classy. Then send out the invitations to everybody (don't forget his friends and family--you might need to "borrow" his address book for that one while you're in his room delivering the journal). You should also buy yourself a ring. Then a real marriage proposal to you would seem the natural thing to do! Just imagine how a guy would feel when he found out he didn't have to buy you a ring or worry about the invitations. He'll be pleased as punch. If you send him all those signs, and he still doesn't get it, hurt him. Just a little bit. Maybe then he'll come around. Well, I am out of my mind today.
--Gargamel

QDear 100 Hour Board,
Does anyone else find it weird that someone would keep pictures of ex girlfriends in their wallet?(And we're not talking the last person they dated. We're talking 7 years ago in high school.)
Miss Bojangles

ADear Miss Bojangles,
I don't think it's weird. Sounds like a pretty good way for him to show other guys what a stud he is. You know, like how hunters put those heads on the wall.
--Gargamel

QDear 100 Hour Board,
Every year my friends and I celebrate Festivus and have a huge party involving feats of strength. My question is, what are some ideas for games involving feats of strength?
- (speedraycr who is also BLoG)

ADear BLoG,
Pick each other up by the hair. Stop traffic with your bare hands. Strangle a bear just until it passes out. Catch pennies that people have dropped off the Empire State buildind with the soft spots on your skulls. Have a tug-of-war with your friend's truck on the freeway (you might need to tie yourself to the end of the rope for this one). Play catch with an anvil. See who can keep various limbs in the garbage disposal longest. Happy Festivus to you!
--Gargamel*


*This site, and the opinions and statements contained herein, do not necessarily reflect the beliefs or policies of Brigham Young University, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or any of their affiliates, or even the guy who wrote this.

QDear 100 Hour Board,
how do i earn about $70 - $100 with out getting a job..(my life is too busy to keep a job right now)? I need it for christmas and i dont know how to get it. Any ideas? btw, i dont go to byu, so no on-campus ideas please. Thanks!!
- poor did

ADear poor did,
Sell some stuff. Like your neighbors' cat or fake gift certificates to restaurants that you just printed off the computer. Make sure you sell these things in neighborhoods that are not your own.
--Gargamel

QDear 100 Hour Board,
Oh, where to begin...I'm an attractive, funny, smart, kind, stylish girl, (I say that only to rule those issues out as causes for my date-less-ness) and in my second year at BYU. I have yet to be asked on a single date. I'm at a loss. This might sound weird, but I feel I fit the profile of girls who get a lot of dates here. I really make an effort to look nice when I got to school and try to be friendly, but must confess I'm a bit shy. Still, shyness aside, I'm struggling to find a legitimate cause for my singlehood. Even when I get the guts to talk to a guy, it ends when the conversation ends (not one has ever asked for my number.) I guess my question is two tiered. The first being; are there particular things that girls do (perhaps unknowingly) that repel guys? And the other part of my question is; what can I do to improve my situation? What do guys here look for, because I clearly don't have it. I don't even have guy FRIENDS...I don't feel I'm asking too much here, but somehow I find myself lonely and bored during much of my week and could really use some help. I just can't figure this out. Any suggestions or advice or...date offers...would be very much appreciated. I feel pathetic asking these questions, but clearly, I'm desparate. Thanks!
- Alice in (Dating) Wonderland (supposedly...)

ADear Alice (or maybe you're Mabel today...),
Hmmm. Here are some ideas. You could bake cookies for every guy in your ward, and then wait by the phone for the date invites to start flooding in (you may have to get call waiting!). Make little fliers about how cool you are and distribute them around campus. That's how we get readers for the Hundred Hour Board, so I bet it'll get you some dates. Tell boys that you go on dates all the time, so they know you're playing the game. Or remind them constantly that the prophet says they should date more. Go to a movie by yourself, and look around for a guy who's by himself or on the edge of his group of male friends. Sit next to him, and then sit close to him, and then ask him to get you some popcorn (all the while touching his elbow). After the movie, ask him nonchalantly where he's taking you for dinner. This actually will work with some guys. Put yourself on ldssingles.com. Use Anne hathoway's picture instead of your own, just in case. Keep your ears open for when other people are going on blind dates. Then show up just a few minutes before the girl and pretend to be her all evening. Good luck!
--Gargamel

QDear 100 Hour Board,
So I have a roommate, and she is really nice. We have alternating schedules, I work and study late, she does early, which works fine, except for one little detail. She is healthy and doesn't have a cold as far as she can tell, but when she wakes up early in the morning (we are talking 5-6am) she has coughing fits. This is a problem as I go to bed circa 1am (due to work and such) and it wakes me up. Any suggestions?
- Gebleesta

ADear Gebleesta,
You can start slipping her sleeping pills before she turns in. Then before you go to bed, turn off her alarm clock. That way she won't be waking up before you. You could probably do that for a few weeks befoe she becomes immune to the medicine. At that point, just start tying her mouth with a gag before you go to sleep.
--Gargamel

QDear 100 Hour Board,
NOOOOOO! I just checked the class schedule, figuring out what classes I'm going to take... AND I DISCOVERED THAT THEY AREN'T TEACHING STAINED GLASS OR BASKETWEAVING THIS WINTER!!! WHY? WHY? It's my last term (I graduate in April), and I wanted to take something fun and unusual... "Yeah--I learned basketweaving at BYU..."
- Crushed... :((

ADear Crushed,
Our society has no need for basket-weavers. Our baskets come ready-made. Slave children in Malaysia produce them for us. We don't want to put them out of work. Their families have to eat.
--Gargamel

QDear 100 Hour Board,
I need a great, inexpensive, fun, not creepy or dorky, date idea to do on Saturday during the day. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.
- Angela from London
ADear Angela,
Hmmm. Good date ideas, huh?
You could invite your date to watch a scary movie in a graveyard using a generator. Then have someone hiding in a grave that you've dug earlier, and they can jump out and scare your date, and maybe dump mud or something that feels like brains on him.* You could play chess with him and tell him he doesn't get dinner until he beats you. Then, to make the fun of the evening last longer, take a full minute or even two between moves. You could do a Star Trek movie marathon. Make sure to show up in your full Star Trek formal evening regalia. How about Arts & Crafts Night, and you could use glue guns and those special zig-zag scissors and make matching photo albums? You could go really late at night and sneak around to various dumpsters behind restaurants and see what food is still edible in there.** Usually they have the food in separate bags from the other trash. Talk about an inexpensive date, huh? And the best thing is, if your date ends up fighting a hobo over some grimy KFC, you get to watch a free bumfight! You could plan a dinner at your parents' house, and then have them push the idea of marriage and talk about how lucky any man will be to be part of their family.** You could tell him you're taking him somewhere that's a surprise, and then just drive and drive and drive until he finally makes you turn around. I bet you could make it well into Wyoming before he puts his foot down. Well, I hope one of these ideas works for you. Remember, a date is only successful if you have more fun than the person you're with.
--Gargamel

* Idea given at the Orem Institute of Religion in a Marriage Prep class
** Dates I've actually been on

QDear 100 Hour Board,
My roommates and I are in a war and we have a few scathingly brilliant ideas up our sleaves, but we were wondering if you could give us your best legal prank ideas that won't get us in trouble, but will be great retaliation. Oh, if this will help, we are in Heritage. I know there are some things that you can do here that are strickly Heritage ideas. I commend you now for your great efforts in helping us win.- Kesstacular

ADear Kesstacular,
It's only illegal if you get caught. That said, I have some suggestions. You could put their names in bleach somewhere on the lawn around Heritage. That way THEY get in trouble. You could ask them out with those elaborate date-asking things that Utahns are fond of (you know the kind with the Jell-o, duct tape, and stuffed kiwi birds?), but make them from imaginary people. Or ask out really horrible unattractive people from the people you're trying to get.* Kidnap any pets they might have and hold them ransom, and then feed the pets tons of food that will make them vomit a LOT right before you make the trade back.** Key their cars. Leave flaming bags of fecal matter or dead squirrels on their doorsteps. Call them every few minutes all during the night. Order tons of anchovy pizzas to be delivered to their house.** Call them pretending to be the Honor Code Office, and vaguely tell them they've been caught breaking the code, and unless they confess, you'll be telling their parents. Put rubber cement on their toothbrushes so that they tear their gums open when they try to brush their teeth.** Break into their apartment at night with ski masks and take their major electronics equipment back to your own place.* Plant a listing of made-up Sexaholics Anonymous meeting times somewhere in their apartment where all the roommates can find it and assume that it's one of the others'.* Tell them you need to use their restroom, then clog the toilet with a rubber duck, lock the door, and escape out the window. With any luck they'll have to call maintenece twice on that one. Photoshop their pictures into Newsnet photos of white supremecist meetings, and make flyers to distribute in the foyer before church. Bake some Viagra into some brownies, or replace their shampoo with Nair. Sew up the sleeves on all their shirts.** Take the guts out of their smoke alarms, and replace them with rotten fish.* They'll smell it, but they won't ever think to look there! Shave off their eyebrows while they sleep, and then gently squeeze toothpaste onto their eyelids so they can't open them when they wake up.* Just remember, if you can get them to cry, you have won. And also that I'm an insane evil wizard.
--Gargamel

* Pranks I've done
** Pranks I've had done to me

QDear 100 Hour Board,
Where is the cheapest place to buy a bonsai tree? I really want one; but, I can't afford one. I have searched diligently on eBay; but, once you account for the shipping price they are pretty expensive there too.
- Planty

ADear Planty,
They are available for pretty cheap on this website. Wait. What was the question again?
--Gargamel

(I actually got hate mail on that last one, heh heh)

Until next time, all you loathsome blog-reading scum.

Gravy's Christmas present

I woke up late. I had only a few minutes to get to work. And my bladder was ready to splode!

I dashed down the stairs to the bathroom, but it was locked. Roy was showering. I decided to go in the back yard. No good; we don't have one. The front yard wouldn't do, either, since it was wide daylight. I had only one option. This story is not for the weak or faint of heart.

I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a cup. We're talking a pretty big 16 oz. or so tumbler here. I ran back to my bedroom. I was in a lot of pain. I started to fill the cup. Then I finished filling it! What to do!? I couldn't very well run back to the kitchen! Then I noticed an identical cup on Gravy's desk. I snatched it. Soon it was half-way full (or half empty?) and I was all the way not full. Roy was still taking his saccharine time in the shower, so I started getting ready for work.

I ran around like like a pickpocket at the Worlds' Fair, grabbing my apron, my shoes, my clothes, my nametag, my order book, my glasses.... Crap! My glasses were in the bathroom, where Roy was STILL showering! It was approaching that fatal minute when I would be late for work if I didn't leave right then, so I stepped out into the street blindly and ran to the restaurant.

After I'd been there for a few hours, I remembered those two lone cups of urine, sitting heavily upon Gravy's desk. Dum dum dum dum.

After work, I rushed home, and was delighted to find that he wasn't home yet. I looked in our room, and the cups were still sitting there on Gravy's desk. I grabbed them both, sneaked into the bathroom, and started to dump them into the toilet. It was only at that moment that I realized that something was amiss. The cups had both been marked in permanent marker with my name, the date, the word "urine," and a line to show how full they were. I guess Gravy HAD been home. Merry Christmas, buddy!