Banks of Chaos...Now with moving pictures!

Do you ever find yourself thinking, "I wonder what Dave is watching?" Have you ever thought, "I'd like to hear the music Dave is listening to." Does the thought of having to actually read about those things bore you to tears? Well then the newest addition to Banks of Chaos will be right up your alley. Yes, that's right, my blog now features video. Finally, a way to watch what I'm watching and hear what I'm hearing. Go ahead, you know you want to.
Scroll all the way to the bottom of the page (I know it's a long way, but stick with it) and you'll be treated to a veritable feast for both the eyes and ears. So kick back, have a laugh, sing along and if you're not careful...you might just learn something.

Only in America!

In the past I have always prepared my own taxes. It's a relatively painless procedure, especially when your gross income is just slightly larger than that of the paperboy. But this year, oh this year I'm making the big teacher bucks. So now I'm thinking it may be time to have a professional take a look at the year end reporting of my finances to the IRS. I was afraid it would be difficult to find a place where I would feel comfortable taking my business. It's an important job and I wanted to be sure I found someone that I could trust.
Lucky for me, I drive home through what must be the most highly concentrated collection of tax services in the tri-county area. Yep, 8 Mile Road between Livernois and Gratiot. How do I know I can trust these establishments? How can you not trust a tax service featuring an "urban" Uncle Sam on the corner? But the competition is stiff. Along that storied stretch of broken concrete and shattered dreams I pass not one, not two, not even three, but FOUR such Sams. They proudly stumble along the boulevard, like intoxicated human forms of Old Glory herself. Each one urging me to entrust them with my W-2 and bank receipts.
The choices don't end there though, if I decide that the starred and striped gentlemen are not to my liking I can choose from a pair of fine nubian Statues of Liberty (actually they're dudes too). These two collosus stand guard over 8 Mile with their torches of freedom held high. From their seperate posts they welcome the poor, the weak, the huddled masses, yearning to file early. (come to think of it, it may not be the torches that are high)
My search appears near it's conclusion. Next week I will throw my financial records in a shoebox and stash them under the seat, because if I spot an ebony bald eagle in the median I think I've found my taxman.

Did I Miss Something?

I flipped by the Fox News Channel today and all they could talk about was some guy I'd never heard of before I went to bed. They made it sound like he had just been elected to the highest office in the land. The commentators couldn't stop talking about the power he would wield. Sean Hannity seemed positively giddy about the "change" that had come to D.C.
I figured I had better get myself up to speed on this guy because he must have been elected president while I slept. All I could ascertain to this point was that his name is Scott Brown, he's from Massachusetts and he drives a pick-up truck (a point he seems VERY proud of). Imagine my surprise when a Google search yielded the above photo.
Holy Hell! I needed to know more. I flipped over to CNN to see what else I could learn about this man. I was heartened to see that he exhibited good old traditional family values...including pimping out his daughters during his victory speech. Mr. Brown was especially eager to let everyone know that the tall one was "available". I quickly found out she was a star basketball player at Boston College AND a contestant on American Idol.
Maybe the Mayans were right about 2012 after all...

Do Technology Teachers Dream of Electronic Women?

Years ago Dennis Miller opined that when virtual reality advanced to the point that "an unemployed iron worker can lie in his barcolounger and fuck Claudia Schiffer for $19.95, it will make crack look like Sanka."
Well, a New Jersey based company has moved us one step closer to that fateful day. Douglas Hines and TrueCompanion have created Roxxy, which they are calling "the world's first sex robot". She's a life sized latex doll with sensors in all the right places and a laptop plugged into her back. Roxxy talks, in one of five distinct personalities, and can "learn" things by having them loaded into the computer in her back. Kinda makes me think it would be like having sex with Teddy Ruxpin.
The creators say, "Sex only goes so far, and then you want to talk..." Yes, that is exactly what dudes who are using this contraption are thinking. "Hey, I just banged an 80 pound piece of inanimate rubber which cost me seven thousand dollars...I'd really like to chat with it now." My best guess is that feelings of shame and remorse will overpower any urge to talk. But let's say you do manage to strike up a conversation, then what? Now you've made a connection with your new "girlfriend", which is going to make it that much harder to shove her back under the bed.
Another strange but true aspect of the sexbot is that the makers of Roxxy had originally set out with much more noble intentions. They saw this new technology as a surrogate caregiver for the elderly. When faced with myriad codes, laws and restrictions that blocked their path they of course moved to the next logical step. "Well, since it can't stay with grandma while you're out...maybe guys will want to stick their junk in it." Such is the history of innovation.

above left: Roxxy the Sexbot circa 2010
above right: Pris the Sexbot circa 2019 (via 1982's Blade Runner)

Enough Already

I think anyone who knows me knows that there are several things I am absurdly passionate about. Coaching, KISS, loathing mornings and thinking that Jay Leno is the least funny man in America.
It is because of the latter that these last few days have been so bittersweet. There was the initial thrill over the fact that NBC had to admit defeat and cancel Jay's sorry ass "comedy" experiment. But then the news came that, as reward for his miserable failure, Leno would be given yet another new show. The plan being to move Leno back to 11:30 and push The Tonight Show to midnight.
This new configuration all hinged on the interested parties (Leno, Conan, and to a MUCH lesser extent, Jimmy Fallon) agreeing to the changes. This is were Conan O'Brien earned a whole lotta r-e-s-p-e-c-t from m-e. His press release was classy, humble and yet very to the point. In it he declined to accept the move. Not based on ego but based on his desire NOT to diminish the reputation of The Tonight Show, a program he calls "the greatest franchise in the history of broadcasting"(check out Conan's full statement)
The ironic thing about Conan's desire to save the reputation of the show is that it has already become damaged goods. First NBC bungled the transition after Johnny retired (check out HBO's movie "The Late Shift") and then Jay turned it into a festival of hack jokes and comedic schtick.
So kids, please, do yourself and television a favor...tune in to laugh with Letterman instead. If everyone would do this one simple thing we could finally have the answer to the age old question, "If an unfunny comedian tells a joke, and there's no one there to hear it, will he finally just go away?"

Fly Me to the Moon?

In light of the recent events that took place high above Detroit, I am hereby submitting my plan for making the skies friendly once again. The solution is elegant in it's simplicity and won't cost the airlines or the government a dime. Furthermore, I can guarantee that airplane terrorism will CEASE to exist when my plan is fully implemented.
Here's the basic outline...everyone flies naked. BOOM! Problem solved. You wanna sneak a box cutter on the flight? Better be prepared to stick it up your ass. Got a recipe for explosives that involves a batch of volatile chemicals? Better make room for 'em in your ass. I think you get the idea. Pretty much, all airport security has to look for now is the dude that's walking very gingerly.
You're welcome Homeland Security. Don't mention it FAA. Just trying to do my part.