Poker completes life, offers loads of fun   

Poker is absolutely everywhere.  It’s in your household.  It’s in your television set.  It’s in your Internet Websites.  It’s in your future.  “Me?!” you respond.  “God says that poker is bad! And so do my parents, guidance counselors, and Congress!” you quip.  Well…I don’t want to tell you that they are wrong.  I don’t want to tell you that, but I feel that it is my obligation.  They are dead wrong.
    As a former online poker mega superstar (now retired, lacking funds), trust me on this.  Poker is extremely easy and rewarding (mentally, physically, and financially).  As far as I can tell, literally everyone is a winner in poker.  Even if you don’t score any sweet cash, it’s a guaranteed fun time.  As every person in the world knows, fun is directly correlated to the expenditure of money.
    So think of it this way: the more money you lose, the more fun you had.  On the other hand, the more money that you win, the more money that you have to spend on other fun things.  It’s a win-win situation.  Don’t argue; it’s simple logic.
    Now, you might even be concerned about the future of gambling following the passage of the Safe Port Act, which hopes to stifle our right as Americans to waste money, time, and our lives on the Internet.  But our old pals in Congress forgot one thing about those that the Safe Port Act attempts to regulate:  they are gamblers.
    Gamblers revel in opportunities like this.  Let’s be realistic; what are the odds of actually being fined or imprisoned for online gambling?  One in two, maybe?  Sounds like just another bet to me, and I’ll take those odds any day of the week.  Besides the Sabbath, I mean.
    Unfortunately, I can tell from my preconception of your facial expression that you’re still skeptical.  In that case, please allow me to expound on the hypothetical facts regarding the mental and physical enrichment effected by poker.
    Poker is an intellectual exercise equivalent to the deciphering of lyrics from the band The Mars Volta (just go ahead and try).  The average poker player can be described most effectively with a single word: supergenius.  He or she (probably he) must operate with the agility of a brain surgeon.
    Every action is contrived masterfully, often within only a few seconds.  For example, do you think you could instinctually make a one trillion dollar bluff, knowing that the loss of such an exorbitant amount could potentially ruin your life forever?  If you are a poker player, the answer is a definite yes.  And if you didn’t win that bet, at least you had your fair share of fun.
    While fun and funds are two of the biggest reasons to play poker, you also must consider the physical aspect.  Based on my estimates, six hours of sedentary poker playing is approximately comparable to a 30-mile distance run.  Feel that caloric burn, you card shark!  Of course, this explains the need for card players to continually replenish their energy stores with healthful delicacies such as pizza, beer, and cigars.
    Furthermore, professional poker players are widely renowned for their impressive physicality.  It’s very rare to see a malnourished or disgustingly emaciated player.  And if there is one thing that I hate as an American, it’s a thin or moderately sized individual.  In fact, it’s making me nauseous thinking about it. We better move on to the conclusion.
    In conclusion, poker is awesome, and it has been theoretically proven to lack the potential of causing strife or legal punishment.  At the very least, you should give it a chance.  If you find that it is not right for you, then there is no reason that you can’t admit you’re wrong and try again.

OJ, an honorable profiteer

    It’s about time that someone recognizes one of the most diversified and prolific talents that this country has ever seen.  It’s time for us to stop focusing on the negatives for once in our overly critical lives, as if our own problems and foibles do not exist.  The man that I’m referring to has accomplished more than this entire campus combined, and his glory will be heard.
    Heisman trophy winner.  NFL legend.  Television and movie superstar.  Not a murderer.  Those heroic qualities represent only one man.  One heroic, fantastic, beautiful man.  Who might I be talking about?  Well, I happen to call him The Juice.
    But Orenthal James Simpson’s talents don’t stop there.  As you have definitely heard by now, OJ is releasing a book entitled “If I Did It” later this month.  After a couple hours of research, I was finally able to figure out what the “It” in the title is referring to.  “It”, in case you’re wondering, is a clever, yet subtle allusion to the abhorrent, violent, atrocious murder of his ex-wife and her friend.
    In this book, the eloquent and esteemed OJ pledges to include a meticulous, but definitely hypothetical account of how the murders would have transpired had he committed them.  And of course, what good book is released without the accompaniment of a two-part interview on FOX?  No good books is the answer to that question.
    Surprisingly, these events has sparked quite a controversy among a few of the country’s soi-disant “moralists.”  These goody two shoes rebuke OJ’s supposed propagation of the egregious killings that the victim’s family was hoping would eventually just go away.
    But what these sanctimonious and specious critics don’t realize is that OJ is trying to accomplish something that is much more important that all of those trivial details combined.  OJ is pursuing the most inherent and quintessentially humane quality of all, and for that he should be applauded.
    No, I’m not talking about the advancement of liberty through free speech.  I’m not talking about the elevation of creativity through unrestricted art.  I’m talking about OJ making lots and lots (and lots) of sweet cash.  OJ is going to make so much money that it’s not even going to be funny, except to him and his publisher.
    And for this, our endeared exemplar should be applauded.  I mean, what is more important than making a lot money?  Surely not respecting the perpetual grief of those close to the victims that you have vehemently denied murdering over the last twelve years.  Definitely not upholding the slightest hint of ethical or empathic value in light of your already questionable past.
    Fortunately, America has responded and is applauding OJ loud enough for him to really hear it.  His book has already made Amazon’s bestseller list, a couple weeks before its release.  That is what I like to see.  OJ deserves our money, because that is all he is after.  Such single-mindedness and dedication should always be rewarded.  So get out there and buy that book, people.  I know I won’t.

OJ article (version two)

    It’s about time that someone recognizes one of the most diversified and prolific talents that this country has ever seen.  It’s time for us to stop focusing on the negatives for once in our overly critical lives, as if our own problems and foibles don’t exist.  The man that I’m referring to has accomplished more than this entire campus combined, and his glory will be heard.
    Heisman trophy winner.  NFL legend.  Television and movie superstar.  Not a murderer.  Those heroic qualities represent only one man.  One heroic, fantastic, beautiful man.  Who might I be talking about?  Well, I happen to call him The Juice.
    But Orenthal James Simpson’s talents don’t stop there.  As you have definitely heard by now, OJ has written a book entitled “If I Did It.”  After a couple hours of research, I was finally able to figure out what the “It” in the title is referring to.  “It”, in case you’re wondering, is a clever, yet subtle allusion to the abhorrent, violent, atrocious murder of his ex-wife and her friend.
    In this book, the eloquent and esteemed OJ had pledged to include a meticulous, but definitely hypothetical account of how the murders would have transpired had he committed them.  And of course, what good book is ever released without the accompaniment of a two-part interview on FOX?  No good books is the answer to that question.
    I know what you’re saying.  You’re saying that you just absolutely cannot wait to obtain a copy.  Well, here’s the tragic part of this story:  on Monday, News Corp. cancelled the interviews and the release of OJ’s autobiography.  Wait, I definitely didn’t mean to say autobiography.  His fictional recount, rather.
    Apparently, these events had sparked quite a controversy among a few of the country’s soi-disant “moralists.”  These goody two shoes rebuke OJ’s supposed propagation of the egregious killings that the victim’s family was hoping would eventually just go away.
    But what these sanctimonious and specious critics don’t realize is that OJ is trying to accomplish something that is much more important that all of those trivial details combined.  OJ is pursuing the most inherent and quintessentially humane quality of all, and for that he should be applauded.
    No, I’m not talking about the advancement of liberty through free speech.  I’m not talking about the elevation of creativity through unrestricted art.  I’m talking about OJ making lots and lots (and lots) of sweet cash.  OJ was set to make so much money that it wouldn’t even have been funny, except to him and his publisher.
    And for this, our endeared exemplar should be applauded.  I mean, what is more important than making a lot money?  Surely not respecting the perpetual grief of those close to the victims that you have vehemently denied murdering over the last twelve years.  Definitely not upholding the slightest hint of ethical or empathic value in light of your already questionable past.
    Fortunately, before the cancellation, much of America (the sensible parts) had been applauding OJ loud enough for him to really hear it.  His book had already made Amazon’s top-20 bestseller list, a few weeks before its release.  That is what I like to see, people.  OJ deserves our money, because that is all he is after.  Such single-mindedness and dedication should always be rewarded.
    So maybe OJ’s book won’t be coming out soon, but that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t support him in other ways for attempting to profit off of murder.  A kindly letter or a twenty-dollar bill in the mail, perhaps.  Anything you can do to help OJ fight the good fight.
 

Soccer star rakes in millions

    David Beckham, internationally renowned soccer superstar, has signed a 5-year, $250 million contract with Major League Soccer franchise the Los Angeles Galaxy.  Combined with endorsements, this could add up to $55 million per year or more.  Let’s break that down.
    That’s over $1 million per week.  That’s over  $150,000 per day.  Pretty fantastic, right?  To put that in perspective, consider that his daily salary is just over 8 times what Robert Scribner considers an impressive annual salary.  This is one of the most lucrative sports deals ever, but here is the question:  does Beckham deserve such an exorbitant sum?
    What a stupid question.  Of course he does.  Not only has Beckham proven himself to be a worthy competitor on the field (twice runner-up for the FIFA World Player of the Year award), he is also a very attractive man (or so I hear).  Had he not signed with Los Angeles, he surely would have found a similar deal elsewhere.
    But is it really all about the money?  Beckham denies this, claiming that his main motive in leaving his former team Real Madrid is to help soccer grow in America, a country that has failed to embrace the game at the professional level.  Furthermore, the 31-year-old Beckham is obviously no spring chicken.  He had only started in 7 of Real Madrid’s 25 matches before the contract was announced.
    Beckham seems to be approaching the status of autumn chicken, which is generally equated to the low-quality meats sold at Zaxby’s or Popeye’s.  Of course, Americans love Zaxby’s and Popeye’s, so he will probably draw a crowd.  An explosion in MLS ticket sales thus far seem to indicate as much.
    Still, to say that Beckham’s move was not primarily driven by monetary incentive seems a bit naïve.  That’s like saying the opinion writers of The Reflector are not in it for the $20 that they receive per article.  Yeah, right.  Get real.
    But that’s okay with me.  Beckham is definitely very good at kicking soccer balls, and he commands such a contract.  He is one of the most recognizable athletes in the world, thanks to his achievements in and out of sport.
    And of course, Beckham has a family to support, including his beautiful and talented wife, Posh Spice, former member of my favorite band the Spice Girls.  As the song goes, “If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give.  Taking is too easy, but that’s the way it is.”  Luckily, Beckham has plenty to give.  It looks like their marriage is intact.

Religious groups ordains all

    Do you feel like an outcast?  Have you been searching for that perfect spiritual group that will accept you for who you really are?  Would you enjoy the right to legally perform weddings, funerals, baptisms, and other ministry functions in nearly all states pretty much immediately?  For John Ballard, the answer to all three of these questions was a vehement yes.
    That is why John joined the Universal Life Church through the Internet.  And in a few days, John will receive his official minister ordination in the mail.  You see, the ULC is an actual legitimate organization, with a brick-and-mortar church building, for followers of all peaceful religions.
    Founded in 1959 by Reverend Kirby J. Hensley, the ULC holds that the proper religion may be different between individuals and that no one should be condemned for practicing what he truly believes.  Everyone is welcome, and everyone is considered equally capable of discerning between right and wrong.  Thus, the ULC will ordain anyone as a minister for free.  That’s right - even women and homosexuals!
    Sounds horrible, right?  According to John Ballard, wrong.  I sat down with John Ballard, separated by a mere 100 miles, and chatted with him about it on AOL instant messenger.  He was gracious enough to answer my hard-hitting questions.   Here is our actual conversation, straight from the chat box.

Robert:  Hello, John.  So you’re now an ordained minister of the Universal Life Church?

John:  Yep, since last Friday at approximately 5:30 A.M. [John then used an emoticon, or smiley, with a halo over its head.]

Robert:  LOL, Do you have any sort of authentication to prove your ordination?

John:  Well, not officially.  My credentials are in the mail AS WE SPEAK (or type...LOL).  But I do have a hastily printed and generally fake-looking version of my credentials printed in haste from my inkjet printer.

Robert:  Is it pretty?

John:  Oh my Universal God, it is the most beautiful think you've ever seen.  The lights of its holiness literally burn out the eyes of non-believers. [An emoticon wearing sunglasses.]

Robert:  As a member of the ULC, can you explain what the church means to you?

John:  "Everything on the Earth has a purpose, every disease an herb to cure it, and every person a mission. This is the Indian theory of existence.” -- Mourning Dove, Salish.  That's the quote of the day from their website [found at ULC.net].  IMHO, it pretty much sums things up.

Robert:   Do you think that is stupid or cool?  In other words, do you love it?  Or do you hate it?

John:  Well, I think in essence, it is both stupid and cool, but the fact that I'm learning the ministry as I go makes me love it as well as hate it.

Robert:  How does one go about obtaining ordination?  Is it difficult?

John:  Yes, well, it's an extremely difficult and grueling process, much like becoming a real minister.  They require a blood sample, a burnt offering (I used a goat), and a complete background profile, as well as a grueling battery of tests…LOL, J/K!  I gave them my name and email.  [An emoticon sticking out its tongue.]

Robert:   Well, congratulations and thanks for your time, John.  You truly are a resplendent and honorable servant to our Lord.  Bye-bye.

John:  Bai!

    So if you’re looking for someone to legally solemnize your marriage, look no further.  Truly, ordination into the ministry of the ULC has changed John Ballard’s life for the better.  LOL!

Big questions about the Super Bowl

    So here we are, a mere five days away from the biggest sporting event of the year - Super Bowl Number Whatever.  From what I’ve heard, the experts are predicting that this bowl might just be more super than any of its predecessors.  And luckily for us, experts are very rarely wrong.
    I’m psyched, as you can tell.  Thus, I’d like to talk a little bit about what’s going to go down in sunny, magical Miami this Sunday.  Let’s take a look at the two teams, the Indianapolis Colts and the Chicago Bears.  I must admit that I’m torn here.  A lot of analysts have considered one of the key factors to be the formidability of both the Colts offense and the Bears defense.  Others talk about Peyton Manning’s history of playoff mishap.  These are not what interest me.
    First of all, I’ve always felt that a team is only as good as its worst player.  Obviously, that leaves us with the match-up between Colts third-string defensive back Tim Jennings and Bears third-string corner back Dante Wesley.  And boy howdy, these guys are terrible.  They’re so bad that they practically never even play!  I can’t even decide on who is worse here, so I’ll call this one a toss-up.
    Secondly, it’s always a good idea to look at each team’s coaching staff.  Of course, one is tempted to comment on the fact that for the first time in Super Bowl history, both head coaches are black.  I don’t really see what this has to do with the game, but apparently it’s important.  So taking into consideration the fact that Bears coach Lovie Smith’s skin is a couple shades darker, I guess that the Bears have the advantage here.  Or does that mean they have the disadvantage?  I don’t know.  Toss-up.
    Next, one must wonder who would win in a match-up between an actual bear and an actual colt.  Now this is an easy one.  In the words of Stephen Colbert, bears are “heartless, godless, marauding killing machines.”  A bear would probably murder a colt in its sleep before the fight even started.  Advantage bears and Bears.
    Taking all of that into account, here’s my prediction:  Colts 175, Bears 2 in three overtimes.  And it’s going to be awesome, but not as awesome as it could have been.   This leads me to my final point, which I would like to voice in the form of a question:  is there really not any way in which we could just go ahead and stick the Saints in there?
    Yeah, I know they lost, but they are America’s team after all.  They have been for two years now.  I think we can all agree that they “oughta” be there.  When you consider everything our boys from New Orleans have been through, it’s really a no-brainer.  I don’t think it matters which team they replace.  Heck, all three teams could play at once for all I care.
    In the very least, distribute their players randomly between the Colts and Bears rosters.   If you happen to be reading this, NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell, then in the very least consider definitely doing this.  For me, as a personal favor.  Come on, be a saint, Roger.

Life:  Even harder without thumbs

    At times, it may seem like life is just too much to handle.  In actuality though, it’s important to realize that we take a lot for granted.  The opposability of our thumbs, for instance.  Just imagine your life missing a thumb.  It’s a frightening possibility, right?  For Ashenafi Arega, track athlete here at Mississippi State, this possibility nearly became reality.  To fully comprehend his plight, I asked Ashenafi a few questions.

Robert:  Could you describe the accident in brief?

Ashenafi:  I was in my woods & polymers class, trying cut this 4x2 wood down the middle using a saw table.  As I was cutting it, a piece of wood flew out. I twitched and my left thumb accidentally touched the saw.

Robert:  What was going through your head from then until surgery?

Ashenafi:  I was in shock, because my finger was barely hanging on.  I wasn't in pain, but 10 to 15 minutes later in the emergency room, I started to feel it.  I was told by the doctor that I had a 50-50 chance of recovering the thumb.  That's when I got really nervous, and I started to pray.

Robert:  Has this put things in perspective for you?

Ashenafi:  Yes, a little bit.  I had a very tough week before this.  I had some problems that I was going through, and I was stressed out.  After the surgery, I saw my finger put together, and it made me feel a lot better.  I realized that my problems had not been that serious compared to losing a finger.  I had never really considered the value of my thumb, how important it is.

Robert:  What is the prognosis?

Ashenafi:  So far, they expect that I should get full function back.  I assume that it will take at least a few weeks or a month.

Robert:  So thumbs-up, basically?

Ashenafi:  Yeah.  I can't do that right now with the cast, but thumbs-up.

Robert:  Would you be offended if you were frequently tossed a thumbs-up signal in remembrance of this?

Ashenafi:  Let me think about this…it won't be as bad now that I got my thumb back.  Had I lost it, I might have been a little perturbed by the thumbs-up [note to editor:  he originally said “pissed off” here.  I said that might not be appropriate, and his roommate suggested “perturbed.”  Ashenafi agreed that “perturbed” was much better.].  I'm just happy that I got it back.

Robert:  Do you expect to make a full Playstation recovery?

Ashenafi:  That's gonna take a long time.  I'm going to have to adjust my video game habits.  I might have to start playing the Wii where I can just hold the controller with my right hand.

Robert:  You were born in Ethiopia.  How long did you live there?

Ashenafi:  I lived in Ethiopia until I was nearly 12.  I lived in Holland for three years and then moved to America.

Robert:  Does the thumb have any special significance in Ethiopian culture?

Ashenafi:  Not really.

Robert:  Are you sure?

Ashenafi:  There might be something in some other tribes, but not in my tribe.

    So the next time you’re feeling down, think of Ashenafi and his almost entirely severed thumb.  If it doesn’t put things in perspective for you, then I don’t know what will.

Drivers, mind the runners

    I enjoy distance running.  In fact, I more than enjoy it.  I enjoy it a whole lot.  I generally find it to be an altogether rewarding, healthful, challenging, and safe activity.  Unfortunately, the events of last Thursday have forced me to reassess the safety aspect.
    It was around 2:00 PM (as opposed to 2:00 AM, which is actually the optimal time for exercise) on that fateful, frightful day.  A teammate and I embarked on a long and somewhat fast training run.  As we cruised through the streets within and around the campus, our coach followed to record the times of each passing mile.  Later, we would realize that we were pretty lucky to have him around.
    Several miles into the workout, we found ourselves running down the sidewalk on engineering row, thinking nothing of the crosswalk that we were approaching.  As we began to cross, we were shocked to see an SUV on our right accelerating to beat us to the intersection.  Considering the speed at which we were running and the proximity of the vehicle, we knew that for us to completely stop would not be an option.
    As we slammed on our brakes, the SUV only sped up further.  Thankfully, the vehicle narrowly missed us.  In an effort to maintain balance and also to communicate my extreme displeasure with the driver, I reached out and touched his back-left window (which was directly in front of my face) with my open palm.  I would call it a slap, but that would be an overstatement.  And I’m not one to exaggerate.
    The driver immediately began to honk as he screeched to a halt.  Here is where the story gets particularly awesome.  As we continued to run (away), the enraged driver jumped out of his car, and began to yell, verbatim, “DO YOU WANNA MAKE IT?!  DO YOU WANNA MAKE IT?!”
    “Make what?” one of our coaches later mused.  War?  Love?  A cake?  In response to his query, we further provoked him by asking him to first try to “catch us.” We meant on foot.  He decided it better to chase us down in his car.  A bit down the road, he pulled beside us, spraying profanities as if they’re going out of style (they’re not).  Of course, I might have dropped a few myself.  You know, to keep it real.
    As the argument (and the speed at which we were running) intensified, we began to fear for our lives.  Apparently, the handprint that I had left on his window was grounds for fighting in whatever culture this driver had been raised.  Perhaps he was raised by SUV-driving wolves?  I mean, it’s not like he came within a couple feet of ending our lives in a vehicle that weighs approximately eighty billion pounds.
    Eventually, his argument devolved into the repeating of the single sentence, “DO YOU WANT TO FIGHT ME?!”  And though I do enjoy a good fight, I was in hardly the aerobic condition to properly defend myself.  Thank the Lord Jesus, it was right about then that our coach pulled even with the driver.  When asked his name, the infuriated driver replied without any hint of reluctance.  His tone changed pretty quickly when our coached revealed his identity.  That is, replace “infuriated” with “painfully apologetic.”
    So when you’re out there driving on campus, drinking your mocha lattes and blasting your new Justin Timberlake CDs, please try to stay at least a bit mindful to the wellbeing of those around you.  As far as I can tell, someone on foot has the right-of-way on a crosswalk.  In the very least, keep in mind the safety of all individuals involved.  Unless, of course, you are just looking to “make it.”  In that case, drive as recklessly as you want.

Drill field yeller saves souls

    I was walking through the drill field last Tuesday, and I couldn’t help but notice a young man standing in the center yelling passionately about his religion.  At first, I was a little bit annoyed by his tirade, but as I listened further I gradually began to realize how true his words were.  Eleven seconds later, I accepted Jesus Christ into my heart.
    Now, I know that my story seems a little bit ridiculous.  I agree.  It should have taken way less than eleven seconds to convert.  But I’m a very slow learner, and I was lucky to have converted at all that day.  Had it not been for that fervent, fabulous man and his loud, obnoxious wisdom, I might have never seen the light.
    I mean, what better way to prove a point than by yelling about it to passers-by?  If you can’t convince people to change religions by standing on a box and yelling, then you’re never going to get through to them.  They’re just too closed-minded in that case.  They’re beyond reason.
    Actually, there is another way.  In addition to yelling, remember to condemn as often as possible.  People love to be told that they will be facing eternal punishment in the afterlife.  In fact, that is how most arguments are eventually won.  It’s no coincidence that most confrontations end peacefully when one party tells the other to go to Hell.
    There’s only one thing that bothers me about this esteemed orator and his noble cause.  I wonder, what if he had been speaking (yelling) in favor of another religion?  Had I been in hanging out in Azerbaijan at that moment and a man had been screaming in my face about Muhammad, would I have immediately jumped onto that bandwagon?  Well, of course.
    What if the two had been yelling at me at the same time?  What would I have done?  How would I have chosen?  The answer is simple:  All things being equal, I would have chosen the louder of the two.  And had it not been already, his would have become the correct religion.  Don’t ask me how or why; God works in mysterious ways.
    Luckily, I’ll never have to face such a dilemma.  My ears are now closed permanently.  This way, I can rest assured that I’ll be spending my afterlife within the gates of Heaven.  And as long as I never listen again, I’ll never hear anything louder.

MSU may win NIT honor

    It’s finally here, the big day we have all been waiting for.  That’s right, this is Tuesday, the day just preceding the evening on which Mississippi State competes in the National Invitational Tournament semifinals.  Or as basketball aficionados often refer to it, “The Other Final Four.”  And though we weren’t strong enough to make it into the NCAA tournament (AKA “The Large Dance”), I just want to express how very moderately excited I am about this.
    It absolutely sort of blows my mind how relatively cool an accomplishment this is, playing in Madison Square Garden for the national consolation championship.  It would mean somewhat of a lot to me if we were able to win the next two games and cut down the nets in New York.  We could practice with those extra nets, and that might even make the difference between an NCAA and an NIT berth next year.
    As Charles Rhodes was quoted as saying in last Friday’s Reflector, we are among the final eight teams to be playing at this point in the season.  Now, I’m just as proud as Charles is, but that seems like an understatement.  Since we’re comparing the NIT and NCAA DI tournaments, why stop there?  Barton College just won the NCAA Division II title on Saturday, so they were still playing when Rhodes commented.
    I mean, that’s a pertinent fact, considering that all levels of basketball are inherently equal.  Furthermore, I guarantee that there are hundreds of pickup games going on at this very instant across the country.  As you’re reading this, I might even be over at the Joe Frank Sanderson Center, representing my recently assembled squad (after we shoot three’s to select captains, then pick sides) among the nation’s elite.
    I know it’s cliché to state that the winner of the NIT is the 66th best team in the country, behind the 65 that made the NCAA tourney.  As everyone knows, that approximation is far from the actual truth.  It’s silly to overlook the fact that the champions of all DI conference tournaments receive an automatic bid to the NCAA tournament.  Of course, this results in the automatic entry of a lot of weak teams from weak conferences.
    Because of this, respectable teams such as ours get left out.  Taking this into consideration, 66th is hardly a reasonable acknowledgement of our talent.   Based on my own exact scientific estimations, I would place us around 60th nationally.  That is, if we win the next couple games.
    Okay, maybe I’m being a little bit caustic here.  Despite all of this, I am pulling for our guys tonight, and I would be proud of a win.  I just don’t understand the need for all the hysteria behind our team playing for a title that doesn’t matter.  In my opinion, that’s about as exciting as a track meet.

Get ready, or die trying

    Last Friday, I picked up a Reflector to peruse my colleague Bailey Singletary’s weekly opinion article, and out of the corner of my eye I noticed the release date of the paper.  As it turned out, April was rapidly approaching.  Amazingly, it was approaching so rapidly that it is now already here.
    I immediately finished her article as fast as I could, highlighted key points, framed it, and then sat down to ponder the ramifications of this rapid, recent development.  As unbelievable as it was, the first quarter of 2007 had already transpired, and only one month of school remained.  I realized that I had better get in gear if I expect pass this semester, which I do, sort of.  And you sort of should, too.
    Even if you’ve already given up, it’s not too late to salvage a legitimate grade in any of your courses.  With this in mind, I have strategically developed a few strategies for coping with the overwhelming pressures of the everyday problems that we all experience on a weekly basis.  So if you want to finish strongly this semester, read on.  If you don’t want that, then still read on.
    Number one, eliminate all activities that don’t pertain directly to your studies.  Stop playing intramural sports.  Stop playing World of Warcraft.  Quit your job.  Drop the baby off at his grandparents’ condo.  These are only a few of the lesser burdens that affect your grades in distressing courses such as “College Reading and Study Skills.”
    However, the most integral of the advices released in this first integer of ideas will relate to all of you, guaranteed.  You need to stop reading things other than textbooks.  That includes books, magazines, road signs, food/household cleaner labels, and even The Reflector.  That’s right.  Stop reading this immediately.
    Let’s move on.  As we all know, you are what you eat, but not really, because that doesn’t make sense.  Despite this, you should focus on consuming a healthy diet of fruit-flavored drinks, vegetable-flavored potato chips, and low-grade proteins that come in giant cylinders.
    You don’t have time to think about nutrition, and you can’t afford to purchase anything frivolous now that you’ve quit your job.  If you want, you can occasionally splurge on one of the various Dollar Menus here in Starkville.  And yes, that includes dollar night at Rick’s.  But order your drink to go; we’re on a time budget also.
    Finally, try and be smarter than you actually are.  If you can just wing it for a while and pretend to be very intelligent, then it is likely that this will carry over into your grades.  Carry some hi-falutin’ literature around with you so that others know that you’re now smarter than you actually are.  Might I suggest Vonnegut?
    Of course, you won’t actually read any of these books, because they are very boring and you don’t have time.  Instead, place one of your textbooks on the inside of your open “Slaughterhouse-Five” so that you can actually read something important like the tenets of “College Reading and Study Skills.”  This way, you appear to be edified while you actually edify yourself.
    With only a month remaining, you need to devote yourself entirely.  It’s now or never, and as far as I’m concerned, those who aren’t now never will be.  Good luck.

Finding middle ground on cursing

    As far as I can tell (very far), there are three types of people when it comes to profanity.  The first group is composed primarily of amoral hoodlums who find no offense in even the absolute worst of “cuss words.”
    The third group, diametrically opposed to the members of the first, is represented by a majority of religious zealots and also old people.  This group covers its collective ears at even the slightest reverberation of words like “damn” or “hell,” the latter of course excepted when used with Biblical implication.
    The midpoint on this spectrum of group one to group three, as you might have guessed, is group two, mathematically.  Group two aligns itself quite nicely with my perspective, and is thus logically “better” than the other groups.  And by “better” I mean better, absolutely.
    Group two is most concerned with “keepin’ it real.”  Now, the problem with keeping it real is the subjectivity of reality.  I define reality as what I know to be “true.”  That might or might not correspond with the dictionary definition of reality.
    This is irrelevant, because I don’t consider the dictionary to be more inherently “true” than any other opinions regarding the definition of words.  For the dictionary to declare itself an authority on definitions (see the entry for the word “dictionary” in an actual dictionary) is surely some sort of logical fallacy.  Perhaps these self-described dictionaries should look up the word “logic” inside of themselves, and then maybe next time they’ll be a little more prudent.  And a little less dumb.
    Group two isn’t afraid of dropping a few f-bombs, or as I call them, f-er’s.  They know how to spice up the conversation with their almost supernatural ability to juxtapose articulation and fucking profanity.  Group two knows its limits, though, as its members generally uphold either a personal belief in a deity of their choice, or in the least a respect for those who are religious.
    Because of this, the only off-limit phrases are the ones that take any sort of god’s name in vain.  To circumvent these restrictions, Group Two has developed a number of substitute bad words that gods don’t mind nearly as much.  The key here is replacing the deity in question with arbitrary, similar sounding words.  This way, they present an entirely different meaning, completely untraceable back to the original offender!  Voila, god(s) is (are) still happy!
    Take, for instance, the new phrases “Gauze damnit!” and “Oh, my lard!”  They are complete nonsensical; I bet you can’t even relate them back to the profanities that they replaced.  And if you can’t do it, then surely an omnipotent being can’t!
    So when you’re out there on the streets, wearing your cargo pants and listening to your Shania Twain cassettes, keeping it real, remember to respect the gods that you might or might not believe in.  They might or might not be listening.  And if they are, then by fucking gosh, we’ll be sure to trick them yet.

Singapore article (did not run)

    According to Slate.com, Singapore is currently suffering from a birth rate that is 30% too low to sustain its population.  If you’re a Singapore enthusiast like I am, you’re not taking this news lightly.  I had always just assumed that things were going well for our friends over in Asia (I think?).  But I was obviously very wrong.
    The government of Singapore, which I have grown to distrust, is attempting to combat this problem by promoting sex in various ways.  Gross, I know, but hear me out.  Their methods include promoting sex therapy, loosening its control on pornography, and offering benefits to working moms.
    Now, these ideas seem fine and dandy, but should we expect them to really work?  In reality?  I don’t think so, and as someone with a fleeting interest in the subject, I’m pretty sure that I have a better, more practical idea.
    As you know, there has been a lot of debate recently in The Reflector, conveniently over the possibility of a sex column.  Personally, I am in favor of a sex column, so long as I am the one that is writing it.  I have been assured that this is not an option, so we should do the next best thing:  we should write a sex column for Singapore.
    I know that, upon hearing this, all of you religious fanatics are not going to be happy.  You’re going to be ecstatic!  It’s going to feel so rewarding to help out our fellow brothers and sisters over in Asia (I think?).  This is definitely the right thing to do, morally, and I’m glad we can all agree on that.  Moving on.
    Unfortunately, the more vulgar aspects of sex will not have to be divulged in this column.  Of course, I’m in favor of complete divulgement here, but it’s not entirely necessary.  All we have to do is just remind the ladies of Singapore to be a little bit more active.  Sexually active, I mean, in case you were wondering.
    But that’s it.  Just let them know that it’s important for the populace to do their respective parts.  Perhaps the whole process slips their minds, and an occasional suggestion would alleviate this horrible birth dearth.  If we want to drop a few hot tips or tricks here and there, then that’s cool, too.  Either way is fine with me.
    I don’t really see any downsides to this idea, so I look forward to it being installed next semester.  And it’s going to feel really good to be a part of something so philanthropic and charitable.  With our help, Singapore’s birth rate will be back to normal within a few weeks.  And then maybe we can stop this silly charade and write an actual sex column.

Cafeteria stabbing (did not run)

(PS - I added some F-bombs to keep it real. I figured that since it's not in the paper, I oughta make it a little more legit. Pretend it's a game, and see if you can spot them!! LOLZ!)

    I often wonder what it would take to drive me to violence. Abuse of a loved one? Self-defense in a dire situation? A philly cheese steak? Apparently for some, it’s the fucking cheese steak.
    Even if you didn’t read about this in the Reflector on Friday, surely you’ve heard by now. Long story short, an unidentified man was stabbed in an altercation at Perry Cafeteria last Monday. As the alleged perpetrator is yet to be proven guilty, I will be unable to use his name. For simplicity’s sake, let’s just call the victim “Aeris” and the stabber “Sephiroth.” After speaking to some individuals that were present when the incident occurred, I’ve uncovered some of the low-down information that Friday’s article failed, or wasn’t allowed, to note.
    According to a couple sources that wish to remain anonymous (students Daniel Simpkins and Tyson Bonner) the two gentlemen involved were arguing over who was first in line at the grill. My sources claim that the prize over which they were fucking quarreling was none other than a delicious Philadelphia cheese steak sandwich.
    Apparently, the argument quickly escalated to a peak when Sephiroth decided that the best way to handle the situation was to forcefully insert a sharp object, indicated by my sources to be a pocketknife, into Aeris’ shoulder. The object was originally rumored to have been a sharpened screwdriver, which I find infinitely more fucking awesome.
    Though I do trust my sources, these minor details have not yet been confirmed by any official sources. I can’t guarantee that they’re entirely true, but in a way that is beside the point. I’m struggling to come up with any scenario in which fucking stabbing someone in a cafeteria is even remotely appropriate.
    So in order to protect the innocent, let’s just consider a “hypothetical situation” in which someone gets stabbed over a cheese steak. To circumvent any confusion between this hypothetical situation and the one that bystanders describe as having happened on Monday, I will have to resort to using pseudonyms. Hereafter, Aeris will be known as “Not Aeris” and Sephiroth as “Not Sephiroth.”
    Now that we’ve got the hypothetical facts on the table, let’s do a little bit of analysis. One might wonder, why does a person risk his entire future over a sandwich? How has Not Sephiroth even made it this far in life? How large was the sandwich? What type of cheese is typically used on a philly cheese steak?
    Unfortunately, I can’t answer any of those questions. It fucking perplexes and frightens me that such a person is even a student at this university. Obviously, he’s driven by primal urges, such the need to satisfy hunger at all costs. Hopefully he’ll never read this article, because then my life would be in danger. Or maybe revenge is lower on the priority list than delicious sandwiches for Not Sephiroth. Who knows?
    I mean, I’m no saint, but I’ve never stabbed a dude over a steak, much less a cheese steak. I’ve stabbed dudes, of course, but for much more noble causes. I think that proper motivation for stabbing should involve at least two or three sandwiches. At least.
    So I guess that the moral of the hypothetical story here is try to avoid crazy psychopaths. Of course, that’s easier said than done. If you don’t believe me, then just ask Not Aeris. Whoever he is.

    Fuck.

(PS again - Did you catch all the F-bombs?! For a prize, you can post a comment with the number in the article. You, however, may not use CTRL+F to find them. If you do, you are disqualified.)