Earth to Dave! (E2D!)

With the recent financial meltdown and the multiple attempts by Congress to “stimulate” the economy, there has been much talk of legislative “pork”.

As an American and member of the Federation of American Taxpayers who Love, Admire and Relish Dining on Pork Innards and Gumbo (otherwise known more commonly as FAT LARD PIG),  I take great offense to the many derogatory, inflammatory, negatory and purgatorious references to “pork”.  (I have no idea what I just said, but you get the point).  The constant reference to “pork” as a negative financial expenditure inserted into a ridiculously stupidly-large “economical bailout package” (oops…did I say that?) is downright unfair.  Since when have we begun picking on poor Porky Pig?   This is a real predicament, and perfectly preposterous.  I’m very pis….er, uh…upset about this.

Since the beginning of time, mankind has always referred to our swine brethren in only the fondest of terms:

Thor:   Me going out.

Mrs. Thor:   Where you go?

Thor:  Work to bring home bacon.

Mrs. Thor:   Bring home milk too.   Me having tennis club over to cave for tea and crumpets.

Thor:  Ugh.  Me hate milking Brontosaurus.

Many years later, right after the famed first flight at Kitty Hawk, Wilbur and Orville Wright were discussing the payment of a debt:

Wilbur:  Dude, you owe me ten bucks.

Orville:  For what?!

Wilbur:  You said you’d pay me ten bucks if I flew it.  You were chicken!

Orville:  Was NOT.

Wilbur:   Yes you were. You’re the one that had the goggles on and right before departure time had to go change your britches.   If you don’t pay up, I’m gonna tell that reporter from TMZ.com.

Orville:  I’ll pay up when pigs fly.

Little did the Wright brothers know that decades later, after a pig’s brief exposure to radiation, the debt would have to be paid by their third step-cousins, six times removed, Sid and Clancey Right of Batesville,  Alabama.  The proof came after a photographer snapped this photo:

Many years ago, several owners of Harley Davidson motorcyles, one of America’s most beloved icons, formed the “Harley Owner’s Group”, otherwise known as “HOG”.

Suddenly, it was even fashionable to be a member of “HOG”.

Well, maybe not always.

Still, the bovine community was actually embraced by the American society.  It became a normal occurance to see pigs taking part in daily activities with their human counterparts.  You’d see them in the supermarket.  What, hello??  Anyone ever heard of “Piggly Wiggly”?  Well, that’s where you could take your pig shopping! Where else would you buy a pig his or her, you know, pig stuff.  Duh!

I remember as a young child seeing pigs in the yards, pigs at the dinner table (the ones in my house were named Diane and Debbie.  I expect to find out very soon if my sisters read this column), pigs riding on the child seat of a mom’s bicycle, and pigs in the community pool.

(By the way, when you see a pig in the pool, and shortly thereafter you see what appears to be a jumbo-sized Hershey bar—like you get at Christmas—floating by, GET OUT.)  Yeah, being a kid in Alabama was really a great experience!  Y’all really missed out on a lot.

So what in pigs’ name happened??!  Somewhere along the line, however, pigs began to acquire negative connotations.  People began to refer to others as “pigs”.

Henrietta Bigolbottom, a researcher at the National Institute for Pig Protection & Limits on Executions (otherwise known as…uh, nah…never mind), has performed extensive historical research on this dramatic turning point in human history when pigs were no longer considered “vogue”.  In a recent article in their organization’s journal “The Ring”, Ms Bigolbottom was intereviewed extensively on this subject:

Pigs used to be our friends, until we realized they get dirty. Then we started saying “you’re filthy as a pig”.  That’s pretty much the turning point I guess.

Okaaaay, thanks Henrietta.  My guess is the government paid for that study too.

Since then, pigs have lost the respect they deserve.  Many have resorted on their own to change the public’s perceptions of their being “dirty, filthy animals”:

Despite their best efforts, the bovine species has sunken to the lowest of lows:  politicians now rely on the word “pork” to describe what they themselves create for their own interests while bemoaning the very existance of the same.

Hmmm….let me think about this.

What if I created a really great dessert…the “Flaming E2D Flombay”.  The dessert tastes heavenly while being loaded with the unhealthiest of ingredients.  Each slice has, oh let’s say 6000 calories.  The dessert is eaten as fast as it’s made, and anyone who has it has to have more…including me (I really like desserts, but my wife no longer lets me eat stuff that doesn’t have flax seed and other rabbit food “secretly” hidden inside.  Only she–*ahem!*–knows about said ingredients, even tho I have snooped and found them in her cupboard and keep “accidentally” pouring it down the drain, but I digress.  I do that a lot.  You’ve probably noticed.  That’s one of my faults.  Do these pants make my butt look big?).

Eventually, we all become gi-normously huge, bloated and very ill from the ingredients.  I begin to tell everyone how terribly bad “Flaming E2D Flombay” is, while simultaneously cranking it out of my newly-built-and-taxpayer-funds-paid-state-of-the-art factory (which has a room dedicated to me, Dave, because I love myself so much.  You should see the statue.  Feel free to stop by sometime and take a picture next to “Dave”…for $10 bucks of course).

The more I complain, the more “Flaming E2D Flombay” I produce, the more I eat, the sicker I get, and the richer I get.  The richer I get, the more I produce the dessert, and the louder I complain, and the sicker I get….etc.  You get the picture.

This “pork”, as they call it, is equally as unhealthy, except your kids will pay the price.  Now we’re talkin’! I can crank out the Flombay and eat to my hearts’ content, while putting on my “sad and concerned face” whilst discussing how “terrible” the Flombay is.

Dave:  “This terrible Flombay is ruining our lives!  We need to do something about it!

Reporter:  “Uh, Mister Earth, uh….to Dave, um, aren’t you making the Flombay??”

(Dave’s assistant, with the aviator sunglasses, earpiece and watch that he talks into, whispers something in his ear).

Dave:  “Well, I’d love to discuss this further, but my landscaper and events planner are having an argument with the contractor installing the infinity pool at my summer home, so we’ll have to chat later…buh bye!  Driver?!  Where’s my Driver??!  You just can’t find good help any more…”

So, lovers of pork, we find ourselves in the mud, with the politicians, trying desperately to resurrect our beloved bovine brethren (oh crap, that means cows). What the heck, protect the cows too!!! (That’ll keep the dreaded CowCoalition off our backs, too).  Rise up!  Defend the hogs, cows, you know, whoever!  Unite!  Let us march to our nation’s capital and demand JUSTICE FOR…PIGS AND THEIR BRETHREN!

Justice for the pigs!  It’s the American Way.

If you’d care to donate to the Pig Defense Fun, rest assured we’ll put it in the proper file (the PDF file….get it?  A little computer nerd humor there).

Just e-mail PDF@earthtodave.com (this one’s for the spammers who harvest e-mail addresses off of websites…they’ll get a bounce-back which, in my mind, means I get to spam the spammers!  I’m a genius!).

Together in pig unity,

While life and people are often predictably unpredictable, there are some things among the human race that are consistently common and cut right across cultural, political and geographical lines. 

One such thing is brussel sprouts.  Notice that, regardless of race, gender, culture or location on the globe, the reaction to eating a brussel sprout is always the same:

China Reaction

Belgium Grandpa Guy

Clown Lady

One such thing is man’s innate desire to….be a moron.  It’s what we do, and we’re very good at it.  Make no mistake about it…males posess much more of the Moron Factor, but females are not immune to it.  They just display it in different ways, such as:

• Marrying a guy that, during the dating process, proves to have a very high Moron Factor.
• Using tears after doing something especially moronic seems to not only lessen her Moron Factor consequences, but also make the male counterpart more aware of his Moron Factor for giving said female a hard time about her (what he thought was obvious but is now not so sure) Moron Factor.   (This in no way has anything to do with the three  times my wife rear-ended other vehicles and I got mad at her for not telling me until I found the damage three weeks later.  Love you honey…smooch smooch).
• Hooking up with a guy who is not only not in the same league as she is, but doesn’t even deserve to share the same personal space as her (I hope my wife doesn’t read this, because reminding her of this causes her to bang her head on her computer and I just got it fixed.)  Case in point:

Hello? Need I say more??

The Moron Factor does seem to especially take center stage among males when mechanical contraptions are involved.  What is it that causes us to do stupid things with machines?  Why are we drawn to use machines in ways in which they were not initially designed?  What causes us to do stupid stuff with said machines, often knowing that it will result in getting seriously killed? 

Easy.  Because we cannot resist.  See, scientists have proven that the Moron Factor is directly related to a medical condition called “Seriosis Dain Bramage-itis“.  This medical condition causes the following to take place:

1. Nerve impulses from Brain infected with Seriousis Dain Bramage-itis creates self-destructive mental images to run through said brain.  Often these impulses are triggered by visually sighting a mechanical contraption.
2. Nerve impulses bypass the cognitive-reasoning center of the brain. This sub-condition of Seriousis Dain Bramage-itis is called “Lako Commonsensitis“. 
3. Nerve impulses travel directly to the motor-skill center of the brain, causing the various bodily limbs to begin acting on the mental images which triggered said impulses.  Soon the act is being carried out.
4. As the act is carried out, the Lako Commonsensitis brain center is triggered, causing the following verbal pattern to be manifested in the vocal cords:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHH!!!!

Take, for example, the following video.  Notice that the Lako Commonsensitis is not outwardly manifested until well after the video taping is completed:

Because this is a human condition that is often seen in Americans, one can assume this condition is largely a “Stupid American” condition.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  It is simply because of the relative ease with which we Americans are able to obtain various mechanical devices that we have made a rather large name for ourselves, Moronity-Speaking. 

The truth of the matter is that the Moron Factor, and the medical conditions behind it, are alive and well in every corner of the world.  While American’s might strap rockets onto 1963 Chevrolet Impalas and drive them at 373 mph towards a canyon wall (which seemed to be plenty far away until, well, traveling 373 mph), our Turkish friends strap said rockets onto 1963 Schwinn-copy bicycles.  While not traveling at 373 mph, 88 mph is plenty fast on a bike with half it’s wheel spokes missing.  In other words, the Moron Factor knows no enemies.  It’s all simply relative.

Still don’t believe me?  Enjoy this video and you’ll see what I mean:

Yes, the Moron Factor, whether exhibited by males or females, is readily displayed on a daily basis and, I dare say, probably in your own life in such frequency.    You cannot escape it.  Simply embrace it.  I have.

It’s good to be me.  It’s my wife I feel sorry for.