Deconstructing the Electoral Process

Over the past couple of weeks, a number of friends have expressed confusion over our nation’s complicated election system: Some states vote while others don’t. Of the states that do vote, there is some pretty blatant favoritism, as some regions boast more “delegates,” whatever those are.

Other friends are addled by the number of candidates. The ballot says John Edwards is still running, but the newspapers say he dropped out. The ballot has the official “Great Seal of the State of ‘Kahlifoania.’” The TV has George Stephanopoulos. Who to believe?

Here at FCN, I dragged my sweet tush over to the library and uncovered the following:

The foundation of our election system is the television news media.

When all the “damn voters,” as Mitt “drops-out” Romney once affectionately titled America’s electorate, have taken a short paid vacation to go vote (as long as two hours by law in California) or waited outside their polling place for equipment to show up (as long as four hours in some parts of Los Angeles), the real “experts” decide the election.

All of the major networks assemble a group of crack (addicted) analysts to make sense of the incoming data. These highly paid TV personas are the real stars of the election process, often upstaging the candidates themselves.

CBS News even ran a house promotion for its election coverage “starring Katie Couric” and boasting “Obama and Clinton in minor supporting roles.” Who is the first major female presidential candidate now, Billary?

First CoWOmander-In-Chief, my airbrushed TV anchor!

The networks claim any and all advantages to create a competitive edge. Fox News uses flashier bar graphs, CNN calls state outcomes earlier but with less accuracy than NBC, CBS shows file clips of Obama Girl who we all secretly thought was hot and ABC doesn’t preempt its regularly scheduled Boston Legal episode, Robert Iger be praised.

The media then fabricate results to create a compelling and interesting storyline. It’s kind of like Reality TV, except it’s not real. Wait, it’s exactly like Reality TV.

To keep savvy viewers from catching on, both parties have consented to the creation of an immensely complicated “nomination process” which utilizes big, unwieldy words like primary, convention, delegate, caucus and super delegate, none of which exist outside television studios.

Except super delegates are real. I think.

Whenever a commentator is stuck for a term, they just make them up. How do you think we got the word “Gerrymandering?”

The golden rule of media driven election shows is that every major development gets credited to the network that made the call. Barack Obama doesn’t win Connecticut, CNN “calls it” for him and all the other networks cut away from a John McCain speech to acknowledge that fact.

Big win for CNN. And that Obama guy didn’t do too badly either.

Aye Pee

"She can't write on the blackboard. For the life of me, I don't understand how you can get into teaching with such atrocious and illegible markermanship." I wasn't really frustrated with my teacher's writing, but students start conversations by complaining. So I was complaining. Class was in a few minutes and something had to be said that would keep us from standing around awkwardly like social misfits with rich parents.

"Powerpoint. That's the life saver of the modern teacher. And its 'markerwomanship,' as long as we are making up terms." My comrade was Konrad (note that I resisted the temptation to spell "comrade" with a K), an international studies major who somehow wound up in French.

"Well, why doesn't she use a computer presentation then? Why insist on the illegible scribbles?"

"Funny you should say that, I had a teacher in my high school Aye Pee honors chemistry once who did something just like that. This was a class for promising seniors with stellar GPAs and PSAT scores, but I took it my junior year because I met all the prerequisites and my principle wanted to find something challenging for me. Anyway, my teacher did the same thing." Konrad threw out this statement as if he'd said it a thousand times before. He was perfectly comfortable recounting his educational resume.

The acronyms left me spinning, not to mention the academic achievements that I am positive are necessary to qualify for a class like that. This kid was a real genius. A little insecure to be flouting his prowess so easily, but a first rate prodigy.

"Congratulations," I said after I'd sorted out GPA and PSAT.

"On the teacher?" Konrad was genuinely confused. Had his compliment bait slipped his mind so easily?

"Your AP class. That's impressive."

"Oh, my Aye Pee class?" Konrad beamed with pride. His question was a rebaiting of the compliment rod. I wasn't going to bite.

"Yeah." I kept my face straight and turned toward the door as if our conversation was over. An awkward pause followed in which Konrad, unwilling to move the conversation from the threshold of praise, waited expectantly for whatever bone I could throw in his direction. I had none to offer. Our impasse ended when another student showed up.

"Hey guys!"

"Morning Melissa." Konrad and I had an unintended harmony as we answered the newcomer.

"You would not believe my history teacher this morning. He droned on and on about Marian Jones like it's going to be on the test. In fact, he was almost as bad as my high school Aye Pee teacher. He would grab every tangent possible and run with it. I almost got a four because of his antics. Almost." Melanie Melissa made sure we didn't come away with a misinterpretation of her academic abilities.

Konrad felt the need to clarify.

"Aye Pee history, eh? Did you take 20th or 19th century? Because I had to pick 20th to make time for an honors lit class." Konrad had the look of a lawyer in open court. Slick, smooth and sly.

"Both." Melanie Melissa shrugged as if her accomplishment was nothing. "And I did honors lit, too."

In class, the teacher explained a difficult grammar concept that we students struggled mightily to understand. Queen, a girl with a disposition to match her name, piped up:

"My Aye Pee French teacher explained to my honors class that the direct object pronoun follows the indirect object pronoun in the 'Est-ce que' form." Queen's manner was defiant; she trusted her AP high school teacher more than her college instructor.

Our professor should have said something smart like "Well, your AP teacher is lucky to still have a job" or "You want to know the French word for where people like that end up after they die?" Instead our teacher kindly suggested that maybe Queen was not remembering her old instructor accurately. Despite the professor's gentle put down, Queen got her message across: I took AP French!

Incidentally, I didn't take AP French. But, boy, I would be such a better speaker and writer now if I had just taken that extra course. In my inadequacy, I feel so left out, so incomplete. I have nothing to bring to the bragging table and am completely outshined by these academic overachievers. I feel inferior. But deep down, in that place where the truth doesn't lie and the esophagus is the next door neighbor, I know I'll never be as good as my peers. And I am at peace with that reality.

25 Things not to say during your Driver's Test

1) Before we start, I want to say that I had a pretty crazy night so please cut me some slack.
2) LOVE that clicking sound!
3) Diesel was cheaper. Now I see why.
4) Chuga-chuga-chuga-chuga-chuga-chuga-chuga-chuga ...
5) So, you come here often?
6) Train tracks! I think we can make it.
7) Some day, they'll have movie screens that fold down all the way in front so everyone can see them.
8) Yellow light, beep-beep!
9) Sometimes I pretend I'm an allied tank driver on World War II, and all those cars in the other lane are panzers.
10) There's that trucker again!
11) So how am I doing?
12) Come on. Quit giving me these tame orders. Let's open this baby up and see what she can really do!
13) Wow. I am so relaxed right now.
14) Police car! Keep your head down!
15) Look, it's my ex-girlfriend coming out of that store. If I swerve, would you mind taking her out with the door?
16) Sure is bright out here today.
17) I've been driving this road for years now.
18) Can't wait until I get enough money to buy a real car. I mean, look at this hunk of junk. It's a death trap.
19) Can we hurry this up a bit? I'm late for my online support group.
20) You wanna swing by my place on the way back?
21) I love the effect of all those yellow dots coming at you. So mesmerizing. Gets me every time.
22) Ahhh! No brakes! No brakes! Ha! Just kidding. You should have seen the look on your face. Hahaha!
23) Vroom, vroom!
24) That's where we crashed right there on the left. Nobody was hurt though. I don't think.
25) I wish we could always be in this car, driving down the road side by side. You and me. Forever.

FCN Classic: Bad Game Ideas

Game ideas that didn't make it out of the brainstorm room:

The Barney Hunter
Sim City - Atlantis
The Mammoth Hunter
Escape from Kansas
Halo 4 - The Teenage Years
Escape from Lone Palm Island
Pirates! 3 - Terror of the Oil Rig
Kansas: Total War
Night of the Living Dead Sims
Age of Plumbers
Ghost Recon 5 - Trouble in Kansas
Frankenstein - The Game
Half-Life 3 - Flowers for the G-Man
The Plumber Hunter
Huxley 2 - Apocalypse Kansas
Escape from Greenland
Command and Conquer - Kansas
Goldilocks - The Game
Splinter Cell 5 - Homeland Security
The Pedestrian Hunter
Red Sky at Night
Doom 4 - Teleport to Kansas
Unreal Tournament 2007 - Plumber Wars
Call of Duty 3 - Mushroom Kingdom
Plumber: Total War
Quake V - So Happy Together
Spanish Inquisition: The Game
Civilization V - Stone Age Kansas
Medal of Honor - Main Street Plumbers
Battlefield Kansas
Escape from the Oil Rig
Barney - The Game
Doom 4 - Lone Palm Island
Sim City - Kansas
Halo 4 - Feisty Little Porkers
Barney: Total War
Day of Defeat 2 - Nobody Wins
Pirates! 3 - Marooned in Kansas
Revenge of the Rubber Duckie
Resident Evil 5 - Barney's Revenge

And the worst game idea ever to be squelched in committee:

Counter-Strike 2 - All Steam, No Game

FCN Classic: Some Things Just Don't Need...

This post was inspired by Ron Burgandy's gaffe "When in Rome!." We thought that was funny. Not that we know who Ron Burgandy is. Originally posted in October of 2006.

Please accept the chorus of apologies to all the FCN faithful for our infrequent posting habits. Our classes have been so interesting – and our mid-terms so strenuous – that we haven’t had the chance to be funny in class. That all changed for me in an exceedingly tedious Business lecture the other day that served as a catalyst for the following:

Some lines don’t need to be finished; just the first part of a famous quip allows the reader to connect the dots. This has a great conversational application. Whenever you want to utilize a cliché, just use the part listed below and those around you will think you are hip. If they don’t, reconsider your facial hair choices.

Disagree? Decide for yourself…

A bird in the hand...
A fool and his money...
A penny saved...
A picture is…
A rolling stone…
A stitch in time…
A taste of your own...
Actions speak louder...
All bark...
All foam…
All that glitters...
All work…
As long as you live under my roof…
Beauty is in…
Bite the…
Dead as a...
Dead men tell…
Do not ask…
Don’t cry over…
Don’t put all your eggs…
Don't count your chickens...
Don't look a gift horse...
Great minds...
Idle hands...
It is water under...
It takes two...
It’s all Greek...
Leave no stone…
Let bygones...
Let’s bury…
Neither a borrower...
Never bite the hand...
Not the sharpest…
Out of sight...
Out of the frying pan...
People who live in glass houses...
Rome was not built...
Six of one...
The bigger they are...
The early bird...
The straw that broke...
Three bricks shy…
Two wrongs...
What goes up...
What they don't know...
When in Rome...
You can’t teach…
You can't judge a...

Redundant.

Note: This is a sad story. It isn’t happy and may induce feelings of sympathy and bereavement. Please read only if you don’t mind some cheerless, lugubrious, and slightly morbid fare. Yes, morbid. This is morbid, mournful and morose. It isn’t funny. In fact it’s woebegone; more likely to induce feelings of despair and despondence than delight and ecstasy. Read at your own risk.

Meet Todd. Todd is a boy, who is a male young man. He owns a house, a small, undersized abode with four walls and a ceiling. His home has a floor and a roof. Outside the house is a yard, covered in landscape and small plants for decoration. The yard has a sod lawn with grass planted in it. Todd owns it.

On the side of the house opposite the street is a large, concrete-lined pond filled with chlorinated water. Behind the house is a pool. The pool is full to capacity with cool colorless liquid, treated with chemicals to keep the algae from growing. It is a swimming pool. It is full of water. It is in Todd's backyard.

Around the pool are two chairs for sunbathing. People who want to soak in some rays and collect some ambient Vitamin D may lean back in the plastic furniture and relax. The area around the water is perfect for getting a tan and there are a couple of shays set up for that very purpose. In fact, there are two pool chairs on the deck.

Todd exits his house, ready to swim. He is wearing nothing but a swimsuit, but doesn’t feel self conscious because he knows he is alone. Todd is the only one around and he is wearing appropriate clothes for swimming.

As the owner of the house is about to step into the pull, he slips on the wet tile and knocks his head against the deck. The tile is soaked, aqueous and covered in water. Todd loses his footing and his foot slides against the drenched surface. Just as he is about to get into the pool, he loses his power over gravity and smashes his cranial cavity against the surface he used to be touching with his feet.

Inconclusively, without much evidence and with little data, we can conclude that Todd is knocked out. It’s ambiguous and the information is deficient, but even in the face of such unsatisfactory confirmation, we can infer that the owner of the house is unconscious. Lacking a definitive testimonial, it would be inappropriate to say for certain, but Todd really looks out of it.

A wave brushes up against Todd’s half-submerged body and pulls him toward the water. The wind blows some water up onto the owner of the house and its rebounding movement drags Todd away from the deck. A larger wave pulls Todd all the way into the water. The colorless liquid covers Todd’s face. He falls into the pool.

A large cephalopod enters the water and moves toward Todd. Unnoticed by any, a giant squid squirrels it's way out of the brush by the side of the pool and propels itself toward the unsuspecting human. The animal is a squid and it is moving into the water. Before, the squid was in the water it was next to the pool in a small plant. Now, it is in the water. Nobody asks why a squid would hide by the side of a pool.

The squid strangles Todd. Using every one of its ten arms, the cephalopod asphyxiates his prey until he stops moving. Todd's neck is being covered by ten different suction powered appendages and he can't breathe. Todd loses his breath and ceases his struggles. Todd dies. He kicks the bucket, is bumped off, buys it, cashes it in, chalks out, conks, expires, succumbs, pushes up the daisies, harfs it, folds, mucks, goes KIA, keeps the headstone company, captains the dirt submarine, visits the in-laws, communes with nature, renders unto Caesar, goes back for seconds, calls home in the horizontal phone booth, catches some shut-eye, gets off the train, hunts for buried treasure, meets the gophers, tucks in for the night, holes up, cools off, gets front row seating at the funeral, goes all in, tests the dirt with both feet, gets busted cheating death, wumps, sproinks, dingalings, taps out, busts, finishes last, gets in a time capsule, hides from Chuck Norris, gets his last change of address, and, yes, drowns.

Posthumously, after his death and when he is no longer alive, Todd’s friends cry for him. They shed tears about the life he led and the tragic nature of his demise. His passing was sad and they mourn his loss. Todd’s friends are bereaved.

At Todd’s funeral, a man in a suit talks about the importance of never swimming alone. While they put his body into the ground, an expert in pool maintenance and safety advises others to learn from Todd’s mistake. Todd gave his life to tell a lesson and we should all pay attention to that lesson. Everyone is wearing black and, while tears are shed and memories shared, a water virtuoso warns others of the danger of pools and squids. They are not safe, so always bring someone along to help you if you have a problem. Always, always, always!

Moral: Never swim alone without other people around to accompany you unless you have supervision.

People We Actually Like

After our post a few weeks back detailing those people who are on the wrong side of our disposition, a number of comments and even a few emails have asked us to spill our guts on exactly who we do like. It's as if you guys know, deep in your heart of hearts and in places we don't talk about at parties that there is a nice streak to the FCN writers and you are desperate to dig it up. Well, from our perspective, there is nothing quite like a passel of readers jabbing us into writing something. Maybe “Faithful FCN Few” should be replaced by “Fierce FCN Fighters,” because that's what you feel like to us. It's like we're play acting: we are Paris Hilton and you all are the wardens. Or maybe we're Shamu and you are the SeaWorld trainers.

OK, fine, we'll do it. But with a bad attitude: we've got to maintain some individuality.

People we actually like: a non-exhaustive list.

Mommy G - It just wouldn't be right to start this list any other way. Mommy G is awesome. She gives us brownies. We like her. When she leaves, our colors fade to gray. Nu ma nu ma iei. Etc etc etc. Life is good.

Nancy Pelosi - What can we say? Nancy is something else. She's a real go-get-er. She stands up for what she believes in, which is a lot, among other things. She makes pants look good. She makes Zillary look bad. She's way photogenic. She doesn't need makeup. What's not to like about Nancy?

Tom Cruise - Nuff said.

Em - She reads our stuff. She emails us. She talks to us. She dances with us. She gives us girl advice. She takes care of our accessories. If FCN needs it, Em is there to supply. She's the reason FCN came back online four days early. As a side note, she asked us to never use her name again. Sorry about that, Em.

Josh Groban - All the ladies like him, so apparently we have to, too. We never actually heard his stuff, though, unless that was him singing at the end of Troy, not that we watched that movie.

Lindsay Lohan - Okay, ladies DON'T tend to like her, but that's probably just jealousy. Let's just start things off by saying that Mean Girls is one of the greatest movies ever, not that we watched that movie, either. Lindsay keeps us guessing. We can't figure her or her freckles out. She keeps us awake at night. We seriously need to have her over for an FCN interview.

The Late Saddam Hussein - This guy was so misunderstood. It's like: "You killed a bunch of innocent people, so now you're no good and we don't want to have anything to do with you." Come on, people. Lay off poor Saddam. He had feelings too, you know. In fact, he had a lot of positive qualities, like vision, decisiveness, and lots of body doubles.

Marie Antoinette, also known as Archduchess Maria Antonia of Austria, also known as Marie Antoinette, Queen of France and Navarre - She sat in a palace and ate rice krispies and Crepe Suzette and wore fancy clothes and had good grammar and had her people eat cake. Duuuuuude. What a woman. Kirsten Dunst definitely did NOT do her justice.

Sandy Berger - Here's a man who knows how to use his socks. Sandy's been completely maligned by the popular media for doing what any normal person would do - carry classified documents in his undergarments. We think there is more to the story and that everyone should lay off poor Sandy. If we had to choose between having a beer with Sandy and visiting the National Archives with him, we would do it.

Hillary Duff - She can sing. She can act. She can design clothes and perfume. She looks like the girl next door. She looks like a supermodel. She is now an adult. Questions? I didn't think so.

Kim Jong Il - Not every petty despot is willing to fly across the Pacific just to explain his plans for world domination in football terms. And this guy makes a great fashion statement. He clearly values performance and intimidation over appearance. One glance at those shades says: "I don't care about how I look." The opposite is actually true. That careless look takes some cultivation. Give the guy some credit.

Desperate Student - Because ... oh, forget it.

Bashar Assad - It's a bird! It's a plane! Actually, it's Bashar Assad. We can't quite figure out what he looks like. He definitely makes a great world leader, that's for sure. I mean, look at that face. It spells power. It also spells Doritos, but that's another story. Frankly, we can't figure this guy's face out, but we would definitely put a poster of it up our wall. Or maybe we wouldn't.

Jose de la Cocinar - Okay, so maybe there wasn't ever a guy named Jose de la Cocinar. This is the honorary name we've given to the dude who invented taquitoes. To the real Jose de la Cocinar, we say: we don't know who you are, but if you're still alive (which would probably be pretty freaky), we take off our sombreros to you.

This post is much too positive in tone for FCN. We're usually locked in bitter sarcasm, and here we are patting everyone on the back. To redeem the post, we'll end it on a negative note by pointing fingers at one more person we really don't like:

Santa Claus - Um. Last year? No presents? Okay, not cool. Bad Santa. Very bad Santa.

New Mexico Is So Boring...

New Mexico is a medium sized state nestled between Arizona and Texas. It is also one of the four corner states and, with those two exceptions, there is nothing notable about New Mexico. Serious. The “Welcome To Our Very Humble State” Visitors Center talks about all the things to see and do...in Colorado, Texas and Arizona. The state's main attractions are all based on history – a not-so-subtle admission that the present is uninteresting. The state bird is the Roadrunner, a creature stolen from neighboring Arizona. The state motto is even less inspiring: “Grow as it goes.” Try waiting around for that. Yawn. If you're from the Land of Enchantment, please don't take this the wrong way; you're state was probably once very engaging. Probably. Maybe. Possibly. Anyway, today New Mexico is boring. Yes, boring. New Mexico is so boring...

...Illegal immigrants have been known to run south across the border.

...M.C. Hammer lost "it" in Albuquerque.

...It's biggest claim to national fame is to have sponsored a presidential candidate.

...It's biggest claim to literary fame is D.H. Lawrence. You can visit his ranch outside Taos and see a small painted urn with his ashes. It's five dollars admission.

...It's biggest claim to artistic fame is the Museum of International Folk Art, featuring beautiful sculptures made in places other than New Mexico.

...It's biggest claim to state pride is beating Arizona to statehood by a month. Die copper state!

...Nobody bothered to mark the border between Old and New.

...The only thing that is burned in effigy is a large paper mannequin.

...The designers of Route 66 decided this stretch of country was lonely enough.

...Most historical “artifacts” are actually just dead.

...Even the historical artifacts are bored.

Arizona Is So Hot...

Have any of you ever been to Arizona? (or, as it's called by the natives, Arid Zona?). It's the Sunshine State's neighbor to the East and has been affectionately titled the Sunburn state. Even if you've never been there before, you probably know that Arizona is hot. It isn't just warm; it's so grilling hot that light waives are bent indoors and you can boil an egg on your leg (a small mom and pop diner in Phoenix actually serves an “egg on your leg” special on weekday afternoons). The heat in Arizona isn't like other climes, because it's a dry heat; there is no humidity to keep you moist, so most people dry up and look like hippies on crack (on crack) soon after crossing the border. Arizona is hot. Squelching hot. Arizona is so hot...

...Most bathrooms are equipped with a mister above the toilette.

...Faucets don't have a hot water dial.

...Freon is the state's second largest import, behind illegal aliens.

...Coppertone is subsidized by the state government.

...When she first visited, Jessica Alba was surprised to find something hotter than herself.

...Green grass is owned only by rich people.

...College students don't bother with garments.

...Neither do senior citizens.

...Al Gore chose it to shoot significant parts of an Inconvenient Truth.

...The rich illegal aliens carry umbrellas.

...Road surfaces are a HazMat.

...Swimming pools are large spas.

...The gasoline almost costs more than water.

...The open desert is coated with a thick sheet of glass.

The sun was so bright...

At long last, after several long bleak winter months and some intermittent rain, the Great Meteorologist saw fit to bless this land with a little sunshine. And He did so in oodles. It was really bright outside. It was so bright that...

...Normal American citizens were buying sunglasses like so many obese people at a fastfood giveaway.

...The paint melted off Nancy Pelosi's face.

...California's roads got that much worse.

...Travis broke a sweat.

...The UV rays killed ants without the help of a magnifying lens.

...Earthly vegetation began producing oxygen through photosynthesis at a frenetic pace.

...Al Gore produced a new documentary on the dangers of excessive oxygen in the atmosphere.

...Eight federal prosecutors resigned, just so they could get some time off work and absorb some rays.

...Botox flowed from Arnold's forehead to the nape of his neck.

...The ground gave up hope of more rain.

...Bush 41 got dehydrated.

...The coyotes shut down cross border transit to issue sombreros.

...Google got sunburned.

The Music Was So Loud...

The other day I went to a concert. It was a big concert with a lot of skinny hairy people. The music was loud. It was so loud...

...The speakers danced to the music.

...A high pressure zone formed over the our town, pushing a weather system away.

...Aerosmith complained.

...Three cities over a mother begged her son to turn down his radio.

...The son's radio wasn't on.

...All the audience heard was a dull ringing.

...You could see the sound waves.

...The singer's vocal chords were rubbed smooth.

...No one noticed the difference.

...Shirley got hyphy.

...Anchorage, Alaska registered a giant 8.9 earthquake.

...There wasn't an unbroken glass or lens in the town.

...Bono, George Clooney and Angelina Jolie began a charitable campaign to curb global sound pollution.

...Al Gore made a documentary explaining that the rhythm of the music was making the ice caps melt faster.

...He also announced his candidacy for the Presidency.

...No one heard him.

Welcome to Wal-Mart, can I help you?

Big carparations. They are the blight on America's future and the bane of our past. They are like poisoned peanut butter or Britney Spear's hair; better done without. Sure they employ millions of Americans and contribute the bulk of taxpayer dollars, funding welfare queens and bridges to nowhere, but they have gotten so big, so enormous, that I almost have a bout of vertiginousness just contemplating them.

Take Wal-Mart, for instance, which is the Elvis of them all. Wal-Mart is the world's largest retailer, single handedly turning over zillions of dollars annually (FCN estimate) and providing for America's black and NASCAR populations. But don't get the idea that the Walton family is benevolent with all that wealth. No way, like so many Maloof brothers, they disc their income back into the business, “rolling back” prices and finding new ways to draw poor people to their stores.

A few years ago, Wal-Mart made the biggest step a big business can entertain; it filed the appropriate papers with the United Nations and became a recognized nation. As the 124^th largest nation in the world, Wal-Mart ranks above Naru and Vatican City and among such esteemed body politics as Ethiopia and Czechoslovakia on the nation lists.

Secretary General Kofi Annan even issued Wal-Mart a flag (a vertically hanging red, white and blue monstrosity that you may see hanging in a store near you) and a national motto. Signs litter the stores globally, listing the nation's new creed:

The CIA World Factbook, the world's foremost authority on demographic and political data, has the following information about Wal-Mart:

The citizens of Wal-Mart are generally very friendly. They respect tourists, and tend to assimilate the customs of those who visit. They aren't impressed by celebrity, but will make time for Dale Earnhardt Jr.

The climate in Wal-Mart is relatively stable at about 68 degrees in the winter and 78 in the summer, although the temperature is known to drop in the frozen foods section and rise near the bakery.

Natural resources include paper and plastic bags and adhesive smiley faces.

Wal-Mart's government type is like many Banana Republics in that it relies on a promotion system to determine leaders instead of democratic votes. Carparate scandal is the most common coup method. A "Board of Directors" form a strong executive whose wishes must be enforced by a "Chief Executive Officer" (CEO). A series of "Vice Presidents" and other "Brass" make up the CEO's cabinet and must answer to his every whim. The most important officer is the "Vice President of Spills Cleanup."

Every month each store nominates an "Employee of the Month," a title that allows the bearer to have the snazziest parking spot. The Employee of the Month is determined by an arbitrary political paradigm.

Although the nation is known to be fairly secure, some natural hazards do exist. Be careful in the center of the country that you do not become disoriented by the size and expanse around you. Also be cautious near the checkout counters as scandalous magazines may scar you for life.

Politically, immigration has always been a key concern for Wal-Mart and, because of the nation's reliance on imports and exports to keep its thriving economy moving, a closed border has never been an option. Trained customs agents are assigned at every Wal-Mart port of entry – there are over 1,000 in the United States alone – to ensure that no goods are smuggled out.

Wal-Mart maintains a small army that usually assists the immigration officials in quelling export/import disturbances. However, if any large scale conflict erupts this nation relies on the force of its neighbors to survive. In past wars, Wal-Mart has avoided taking sides or aligning itself with a particular party, choosing a path of pacifism instead. Some critics claim this peace mongering is fiscally driven.

Wal-Mart has yet to ratify the Kyoto Protocol.

The nation's population growth rate is second only to China at 12% annually.

Wal-Mart's dependent areas include most of the southern United States, all of Iowa and the Midwest and half of Texas.

Observation One: Redefinitions

I apologize to CJM for the nerdiness of this post. It was unavoidable.

The FCN writers were all present at a large debate tournament in Southern California a couple of weeks back (the one that got one of us drunk on coke and the others roadsick -- as opposed to homesick) and we had the opportunity to sit in on some of the policy debate rounds. In the course of these surprisingly long events (you wouldn't believe the windbags they had ka-chooing behind the podium), we discovered something that many high caliber debaters missed: the duty to define the resolution is rarely, if ever, fulfilled.

That's right, team after team would walk into a round and completely renege their affirmative duty to define the terms of the resolution. As many of you know, this year's debate resolution is “Resolved: That the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) should be significantly reformed or abolished.” Well, instead of defining all the terms the way they should, most teams just define so-called important terms like “NATO” or “the.” This results in a very skewed interpretation of the topic.

In the interest of setting a sound example and in order to give any of the debaters who count themselves among the faithful FCN few a late Christmas present, we are going to show you how definitions should really be done.

Here are the definitions we found after a few minutes of research:

Resolve: To separate (something) into constituent parts

That: something

The: beyond

North: cardinal point on the mariner's compass

Atlantic: the second largest ocean

Treaty: a formal agreement between two or more states

Organization: administrative personnel of such a structure

(NATO): (a musician who dresses like a Muslim woman)

Should: it is logically necessary to

Be: exist in actuality; have life or reality

Significantly: considerably

Reformed: produced by cracking

Or: and

Abolished: extirpate

When we add punctuation and articles, the defined resolution reads:

To separate something into constituent parts: beyond [the] cardinal point on the mariner's compass [and]the second largest ocean, a formal agreement between two or more states [or] the administrative personnel of such a structure (a musician who dresses like a Muslim woman), it is logically necessary to exist in actuality, have life or reality considerably produced by cracking and extirpat[ing].

With a resolution about cracking open an ocean to create dry land, why are were so many teams talking about Kosovo?

Alternate definition scenarios are welcome in the comment section.

We passed...

Made with the loving assistance of several FCN readers.

On the long road trip my family and I took the other day (between northern and southern Cali), we had the opportunity to pass all sorts of fun things. We passed...

...A farmer, his chickens, his tractor and his illegal immigrant.

...Harry Reid, coming back from safari.

...Ewan Mcgregor. Yuck.

...A genocide in progress. At least we think it was a genocide; it may have just been Lindsay Lohan driving to work.

...A nuclear reactor. At least we think it was a nuclear reactor; it may have just been DNC headquarters.

...Thousands of “endangered” species, all alive and well, thank you.

...A tractor-disc rig doing doughnuts in an open field. Either the farmer was celebrating his subsidy check or he was trying to bug his neighbor.

...A lot of real American industry and a little American frivolity.

...A couch, some lawn furniture and a bundle of coiled springs and moist faded fabric that vaguely resembled a mattress.

...Adam Sandler as he was getting a traffic citation.

...A pink Ford F-150 that was towing a manly trailer rig.

...The day two days before the day after the day three days after the day before Tuesday (which is, of course, Wednesday).

...The same redneck five times.

...Sam?

The road was so long...

Made with the loving assistance of several FCN readers.

The other day my family and I went on a day long road trip to southern California. If any of you have ever been to the southern part of the state, you know that interstate five is a long highway. That road is long. It was so long that...

...Donald Trump carpooled with Rosie O'Donnell.

...The hybrid used an entire tank of gas.

...Willie Nelson wanted to know if we were there yet.

...My back fused at a 90 degree angle.

...I gained three pounds.

...John Edwards got tired of smiling.

...We went through two spare tires and a hitchhiker.

...Chevron-Texaco gave us an award for Outstanding Company Service.

...Exxon-Mobile gave us a coupon for a dollar off our next purchase of $1,000 or more.

...Prince Abdul threw a party as oil prices rose 30 cents.

...President Bush invaded Iran.

...The remainder of the Strategic Petroleum Reserve was donated to Pam.

...The armadillos joined the anti-global warming campaign.

...The state prison litter removal workers were employed for an extra two weeks picking up our trash.

...They resigned.

...Everyone in the car was common-law married.

It was so windy...

It was breezy today, wasn't it? Boy, the howling wind sure got my attention. How windy was it? It was so windy...

...the dog finally caught his tail.

...we turned off the indoor fans.

...birds flew backwards.

...Travis didn't have to blow dry his hair.

...Travis' hair actually looked good.

...Sam didn't have to tip the cows; he just watched them fall over.

...SUVs actually got good gas mileage.

...my little sister got pulled off to Oz.

...light waves were buffeted.

...I rode the umbrella into town.

...the National Weather Service asked Nancy Pelosi to shut up.

...all the cars at the drug store parking lot were on the south end.

...we had dinner on the wall.

...it was raining garbage.

...I walked outside and was undressed.

...the palm fronds became palm sticks.

...the garden was watered with the pool.

...the chickens were plucked before they were slaughtered.

A Really Romantic American Love Story

Jane is an attractive young woman.

Dick is an attractive young man.

Dick and Jane meet in college and become good friends.

Dick invites Jane out on a date.

They fall in love.

Dick proposes to Jane and the two get married.

Dick and Jane have a child, Henry.

Emotional differences separate Dick and Jane and, after counseling with marriage therapists and lawyers, they file for divorce.

The separation is amicable.

Dick meets Lauren.

Jane meets George.

Dick and Lauren fallen in love.

Dick and Lauren get married.

Dick and Lauren have five children together.

Dick can’t support his family because he has to pay alimony to Jane.

Dick’s new family goes hungry.

Jane cheats on George.

Jane and George get a divorce.

Henry – Dick and Jane’s only child – tries to draw his family tree for class but can’t.

Henry cries.

Dick decides he wants to get his life back “on track” so he divorces Lauren.

He then works overtime to pay the alimony from his two past marriages.

George works in the office next to Dick, but the two never find out they are related.

Henry – the one who can’t draw his family tree – lives a life of crime because he never had an adequate father figure to act as his role model.

Lauren marries Michael in a desperate attempt to find a supporter for her large family, absent George.

Michael is happy, but his five step children are not.

All of Dick and Lauren’s children will experience at least one failed marriage.

Three of Dick and Lauren’s offspring go through multiple marriage dissolutions.

Jane never marries again, but lives with Matthew for several years.

Neither Jane nor Matthew is happy; they are just dependent on one another to fulfill their esteem needs.

Henry grows up to be an attractive young man.

Amanda is an attractive young woman.

Henry and Amanda meet in college and become good friends.

Henry invites Amanda out on a date.

They fall in love.

Henry proposes to Amanda and the two get married.

THE END

“Merry Christmas”...please?

“How do you pronounce your last name?” The clerk at the corner store I was checking out of had a comically intent look on her face that shouted “my manager wants me to go through this routine with all the customers to make them feel like family so, even though it's corny, would you please just comply?”

Without hesitation, I said the first thing that came to my mind. “Yerziklewsky.” Even upside down, my name doesn't look anything like that, but “Yerziklewsky” vaguely reminded me of an LLFCN member's name.

“Happy Holidays Mr. Wurzuklouskee,” the clerk said with a pasted smile, butchering my made up name.

It wasn't until I was out of the store and fifty feet in the parking lot that I realized the clerk wasn't wearing a name tag. A few seconds later, her closing words came echoing back to my ears, pushing out any thoughts of her uniform violation: “Happy Holidays.”

Understand, I don't have any problem with a holiday, I take a good many of them myself and believe the calender is much too limiting on that account, but I am beginning to wonder just what exactly “Happy Holidays” really means.

My keen sense of observation tells me that this phrase comes into vogue after Thanksgiving and leaves after New Years. It also tells me that it has nothing to do with Pearl Harbor Day. Or does it?

My datebook, yes I have a datebook, lists many December “Holidays.” December 6th is St. Nicholas Day (read Santa Claus Appeasement Day), the 7th is Pearl Harbor Day, the 8th is Bodhi Day (a time set aside to celebrate Buddha's enlightenment), the 7th is Virgin of Guadalupe Day (that's pretty much self-explanatory), the 13th is Santa Lucia Day, the 22nd is Winter Solstice (an important day in Alaska), the 16th the beginning of Hanukkah, the 25th Christmas, the 26th Kwanzaa and the 31st is both Eid al-adha (a Muslim celebration concluding a pilgrimage to Mecca) and New Year's Eve. The entire month of December is also the Universal Human Rights Month.

In light of the above list, I really appreciated the clerk's effort to recognize the biggest socio-economic and religious groups in the world by utilizing such a broad greeting. To think, had she wished me an “Exciting Solstice”! Imagine how angry all those folks who quietly ignore the peak of winter would be! Similarly, how insensitive it would have been to simply wish me a “Merry Christmas” or the more undisputed “Happy New Year?”

When people say “Happy Holidays,” they are communicating that they wish the listener well, whatever holiday the listener is celebrating. Most often, in America anyway, that's assumed to be Christmas. The trouble is that smaller, lesser known holidays can get lost in the confusion.

Take Kwanzaa, for instance. Kwanzaa is an important cultural and heritage celebration that has grown extensively in America since its introduction in the late 1960s. As I learned from a webpage titled endarkenment.com, Kwanzaa is a very important historical celebration. It is a time for African Americans celebrate and reflect on who they are as well as promote virtue. Whereas the Christmas celebration uses a tree and holly to communicate its festivity, Kwanzaa incorporates the Mkeka (Kwanzaa mat), Muindi (Kwanzaa corn) and Kikombe Cha Umoja (Unity Cup).

If you find that the number of Ks incorporated unnecessarily in the Kwanzaa celebration is reminiscent of the Klu Klux Klan, you just had a very offensive and politically incorrect thought that you had better keep quiet about.

If anything, holiday neutral greetings may actually end up hurting Kwanzaa. All the big celebrations (Hanukkah anyone?) are automatically assumed to be the topic of the well wishing. A day like Kwanzaa needs more support.

So I am celebrating Kwanzaa this year. Like Christmas, it's a day of gift giving that brings family and friends together. Besides the name and the cultural icons that accompany the two days, is there difference? Maybe that's why people say “Happy Holidays,” because they don't see any.

I almost want to go back to that corner store and check out with the same clerk. When she wishes me (or Mr. Yerziklewsky as the case might be) a Happy Holiday, I will look her in the eye and say "Kwanzaa Yenu Iwe Na Heri!" (kwahn-ZAH YEH-noo EE-weh nah heh-REE!) or “May your Kwanzaa be happy!”

Every day is...

Ronald Reagan once said that Republicans think every day is July 4^th and Democrats think every day is April 15th. We agree wholeheartedly. But, in typical FCN fashion, we feel the need to expand a little. Here's what our team came up with:

Republicans think every day is July 4^th

Democrats think every day is April 15^th

Green Party members think every day is October 31^st

White people think every day is Columbus Day.

Black people think every day is Martin Luther King Jr. Day.

New agers think every day is New Years.

Christians think every day is Easter.

Calvary Chapel members think every day is the last day.

President Bush thinks every day is President's Day.

Indians always think it's the anniversary of Little Big Horn.

John Kerry thinks every day is Veterans Day.

The folks at Butter Ball think every day is Thanksgiving.

Nancy Pelosi thinks every day is Election Day.

Kim Jong Ill thinks every day is the Day After Tomorrow.

Dr. Neil Clark Warren thinks every day is Valentines Day.

Bill Gates thinks every day is payday.

The Pope thinks every day is All Saints Day.

Rednecks think every day is the 1^st of September.

The Spanish think every day is the day before tomorrow.

The British think every day never ends.

Coyotes think every day is a full moon.

Dogs don't care what day it is.