Fight Club

The first rule of Fight Club is, Don’t Talk about Fight Club. The second rule of Fight Club is, Don’t Talk about Fight Club. The third rule of Fight Club is, Take a Lap, Son.

Can We Really Make God Feel Sad?

I’m generally suspicious of people who say they know what God is thinking. Mostly because I’m an atheist and so what I think is, “Oh, you have an imaginary friend named Yahweh who tells you what to do. That pretty much ticks all the boxes on the crazy questionnaire, doesn’t it?”

60K Rounds of Ammo

Have I waited long enough?

What What What

Am I back where I belong? Where have I been? Really, who cares? It is what it is. Anyway. Finally. Football. Full pads football. Now is the Summer of Gronk made glorious autumn by this Coach of Belichick.  It’s all going to be all right after all.

Commercials Brainwash

Okay, it's been a while. Between tapdancing for the man (day job) and wrestling with my laptop (if there's a computer version of narcolepsy, my machine apparently has it) I haven't been very productive in a right-brain sense lately. Enter my beloved daughter Rachael with some fresh content...

It is 2012and I am twenty-one years old. This will be the first time I will be able to vote for who I think should be running the country and be a part of the government. And up until a little while ago I have to say that there was onlyone person that had my complete confidence. Sadly I have to tell that now I am not so impressed.

Everything is Obvious After the Fact

Thanks to the hard-hitting, incisive journalism that has long been the hallmark of SI.com; we now know that Tom Brady enjoys having sex with his Brazilian supermodel wife, Giselle Bundchen. Sure, I know we all suspected but now we know. So, what is that? Reason #1,821 for Jets’ fans to hate Tom Brady? Yeah. Reason #1,821.

A Glimpse of Hell is Proof of Heaven

I am an IT Professional by day (and yes, a masked crime fighter by night) and spent the last week at Microsoft’s TechEd conference in Orlando, Florida. At least, this was the advertised purpose. I suspect it was really a sociological experiment in which thousands of introverts are gathered together in an enclosed space and observed as they are forced to interact with each other in meeting rooms, at the cattle call breakfasts and lunches and the permanent queues at the men’s rooms. Orlando is, by my calculations, the Las Vegas of the East, with theme parks in place of casinos; unbearable heat, overpriced drinks, $40 entrees and air conditioned air redolent with desperate attempts to buy even a few moments of happiness. To cap the four and a half days of presentations and discussions about technologies, architectures, markets and trends, we were treated to an evening at Universal’s Islands of Adventure. It was here I caught a glimpse of Hell as I realized that if Hell exists it must certainly be a personalized experience. Mine would be a place where I am surrounded by thousands of people riding roller coasters.