Dumb Information

Planet Earth’s BFF

Posted in Advertising, Dumbass, Mainstream Media, Media, Movies by Chop on 3 March 2009

He is known by a simple picture of his left side and face. Not an athlete, politician, or film star, yet he is popular throughout the world, 231 countries or geographical locations strong. He is Planet Earths BFF (Best Friend Forever).
His name is Tom Anderson, which is about all that most know of him, except for the posted bulletins showing interest in new songs or videos. If you glance over his home page on MySpace, you can see that he has kept it somewhat simple while creating one of the most popular friendship networks the world has ever seen. Most pages are fancy, laid out, and have elaborate color and design schemes, yet his models a starter page for a newbie to the MySpace faction.
His creation has sparked curiosity, imagination, and desire as ordinary people such as me can reach out and find the likes of Mookie Wilson or Bill Goldberg, Stone Cold Steve Austin or George Bush, Sr. We can send a friend request, and anxiously await a response. We can see what Barack Obama is up to, and then thumb through videos of Wrestle Mania on the same website. It is an inevitable avalanche, gaining popularity and steam on what seems like an hourly basis.
From personal experience, I must have felt the void in my life that was left by the likes of missing out on MySpace when I created the Dumb Information site. I began to toy with the front page, and felt the undying urge to browse old friends that I had lost contact with several years ago. I have never been big into rekindling old friendships, as they died for a reason, but could not control MySelf. Page after page, I clicked on pictures of old high school football buddies, old work associates, and occasionally superstars such as the greatest hair band of all time Poison, which by the way is Dumb Information’s friend. Days melted into nights, nights blended into days, and a week went by, forgetting to sleep for the most part and skip meals just to see if someone had accepted my friendship request.
I have now built my friend base up from being a solitary hermit to around 30, with several requests pending. My friend list includes the likes of Poison, Vanilla Ice Ice Baby, the Entire Shreveport Bossier Captains baseball organization, three other bands, a church, and several old running buddies that I haven’t talked to in more than 10 years. All of this is possible, without having to leave the comfort of my reclining office chair, amazing.
His name is Tom Anderson, and he is my friend (along with 258,433,070 others).

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I Miss Louie

Is this what the news has come to? Are we at this point in our nation that the death of a cat is front page news?
Obviously so, as the death of the Clinton’s house cat is one of the top stories by the Associated Press. Not to take anything away from the importance of a good pet (as I have two dogs and my webmaster), but how is this front page material?
My beef with this is that much goes on in the world around us; deaths of soldiers, wars, skirmishes, hunger, starvation, deaths by beheading, and this is what pops up on Yahoo today. World news, what is meant to reflect the big stories going on, and I get a picture of a tuxedo cat that just spent his ninth life, as well as an entire story to go with it. DI has put together a few other insignificant stories around the globe during the mourning process of a feline.

Guantanamo Bay, Cuba – an official Pentagon report states that the prison meets the standard of humane treatment in the eyes of the Geneva Conventions, but cites many changes that need to take place. Hard core, dangerous criminals should be allowed to meet with the rest of the population, and have the privilege of additional recreational time. Prisoners also do not have dry cleaning services, mint on the pillow every morning services, or a hot cloth to wash their face after every meal.

Major League Baseball – it died, again, hopefully this time for good.

North Korea – plans to test fire an intermediate range ballistic missile in the next few months, despite a visit to the region by Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, stating on other issues that she vowed “not to let human rights concerns hinder cooperation with China.”

Iraq War – leaders of the battlefield personnel want to push out the timetable for a troop withdrawal, while the politicians are still pushing for an immediate removal of the troops

George Mason University – picked a drag queen as the homecoming queen

Bailout – the population is now growing angry about the massive bailout, and the massive bailouts that have happened, and the massive bailouts that are yet to come, as homeowners that are struggling to keep up on their bills are now wondering why they didn’t just fall behind and not worry about it?

Israel – two more rockets were fired from southern Lebanon, injuring at least one

Obama Presidency – polls show that approval ratings for the new President are slipping, and articles gave us two to three sentences to explain why.

American Economy – it’s still tanking.

Yet, with all that is going on around us, we have to hear or read about the loss of the former “first cat.”
Thinking of this on a vehicle ride, I remembered my beagle that I grew up with. Louie, short for Louisiana, was a beautiful specimen, and one of the best friends a young boy could ever have. She was so protective of me and the rest of the family that she would somehow run away with any new dog we brought home, and amazingly find her way back home, alone. We lost several puppies, but always seemed to lure Louie back home with a single piece of cheese or bologna. She outlived her years, passing on my homecoming night junior year in high school at the ripe old age of 18 (126 in dog years). The Associated Press never showed up at my doorstep to write an article about that day, as they were most likely busy reporting more important things like the Serbian invasion of Bosnia, the Sri Lankan civil war, or the establishment of the European Union. I, however, didn’t care about any of that, because I had lost my friend; it just wasn’t news for the rest of the world.

The Day that Baseball Died

Posted in Baseball, death, Drugs, Sport, Strike by Chop on 9 February 2009

Give it up already.
This new baseball steroid scandal reeks of so much wrong, it will be very difficult to put in one article. But being the writer that I think I am, let’s give it a shot.
First, Alex Rodriguez has been implicated as yet another steroid needle ninja, as unconfirmed reports leaked that he tested positive for Primobolan and testosterone in what was meant to be an anonymous testing in 2003. Nearly 1,200 players were tested to determine if a mandatory random drug test sport wide would be necessary.
Records sealed and tucked away nicely in some drawer at a drug lab, only rearing their ugly head once again because baseball and the rest of the free world want to see Barry Bonds burned at the stake Joan of Arc. As the Yahoo report stated, “The government is trying to prove Bonds lied when he told a grand jury he never knowingly took performance-enhancing drugs.”
Baseball, get over it. Government, find something else to focus your attention on, say people trying to blow cars up in Arkansas or people trying to blow cars up period.
Second, the only real issue we here at DI see with Mr. A-Rod is the fact that he left a smokin’ hot wife for the washed up material girl Madonna, sweet move Hot Rod.
Third, and likely most important, Jose Canseco wrote a book. “Vindicated: Big Names, Big Liars, and The Battle to Save Baseball,” hit the bookshelves in 2008 claiming that Canseco introduced the Rodster to a drug dealer, possibly Tyrone Biggums. Although I have not read the book (I really don’t look forward to seeing a bunch of Crayola marks on notebook paper unless it comes from one of my children) I am betting, sorry Charlie Hustle, that there is nothing about getting his face caved in during his brief yet entertaining professional fighting career, or giving up a home run with his hard as a brick skull, or blowing his arm out in his half an inning or so performance for the Texas Rangers.
Fourth through ninth, Rodriquez was quoted as saying “you’ll have to talk to the union” in regards to the current issues at hand. The Baseball Players Association, formed in 1953, has assisted the game and fans with such cool things like massive uncontrollable salaries for athletes, three work stoppages as players were stroking, I mean striking, and the cancellation of a World Series because of inhumane working conditions and benefits. The players union has the sport in such a stranglehold that it is slowly but surely killing it. The fact that it is not run like any other company world wide gives it that sour in your mouth kind of feeling to the massive fan base, the fan base that buys tickets and jerseys, and the fan base that falls asleep with a beer in their laps watching that nail biter on T.V. If someone pops positive for a random drug test, suspend them, hit them hard in the wallet. If they do it again, get rid of them, just as the rest of the working nation would do. The union, acting in the best interest of the athletes, have padded their pocketbooks and raped the consumer, us fans that have stayed devoted to the game through all of the work stoppages and all of the drug scandals and all of the “I have to sit out of this game because I have turf toe” episodes these new age pansy ass crybabies have played out. Babe Ruth could swig back a fifth of Kentucky’s finest, get run over by a truck on the way to the ballpark, and still go 4-4 with 3 touch all of em’ kind of swings, saving the puke fest for after the game. These days, with all the advances in modern medicine and the unlimited access to the dreaded “steroid”, players, with the exception of Iron Cal, can’t give us a fresh nine innings any more for fear of breaking a nail. But we as the consumer have to sit back and take it up the tailpipe, because in the famous words of A-Roid, “you’ll have to talk to the union.”
Tenth, I believe that this is the final straw, the inevitable baseball implosion that the owners and players union created. The game that I grew up loving so much, the days at the minor league ballpark cheering on the Shreveport Captains, buying overcharged and undercooked hot dogs that were the greatest tasting food on the planet because I was sitting next to my mom and dad watching Charlie “Willie Mays” Hayes, those days are but a memory now. The days that superstars stopped by after the game to talk to me because my dad performed some dorky dance flagging him down, those days are gone, but thanks for the memory anyways Andy Benes from the Wichita Wranglers. I will never forget those days, just as I will never forget the sport that I loved for so long. I will however get over it, move on with my life, and try and forget about all of the scandals, the tirades, the Will Clarks of the league pushing a kid out of the way because they are being bothered for a signature on one of their own baseball cards, that was me by the way Big Will; I will try and stuff all of that crap deep inside a shoe box, lock it up, and throw away the key, because, if only just for me, this is “The Day that Baseball Died.”
Obituary – 8 February 2009
Professional Baseball
Every Town, USA – Services for Professional Baseball, 133 give or take a few, will not be held. There will be no one officiating, as fans and priests will try and move on with their lives and find something else to dump money into, possibly WWE.
The Baseball family, however, will continue to accept visitors to its website to show respect.
Baseball entered into rest on Sunday, February 08, 2009, across the nation after a long fight with greed and stupidity.
Major League Baseball was born in 1876 across America, and was preceded in death by its father Abner Doubleday and millions of faithful fans and players.
Left to cherish its memories are its loving fans that still live, including me, as well as the owners and players who assisted in its death.
Baseball earned respect and love during the early 1900’s, but began to fail in its old age due to player strikes and multi-billion dollar contracts. After the strike of 1994 that halted World Series play, baseball slipped into a coma, recovering only for a brief moment during the Mac Attack and Sosa Swat summer of ‘98. Shortly after that, baseball became addicted to drugs (primarily steroids), working itself in and out of rehab, but its old age finally gave in to the greed and stupidity.
The Baseball family would like to express their appreciation to all who loved it, and all who enjoyed those dog days of summer at the Old Ballgame. Baseball would also like to thank Mark McGuire, Sammy Sosa, Roger Clemens, Raphael Palmeiro, Barry Bonds, and Alex Rodriguez for giving it one last fighting chance at life.
Pallbearers will be the ghosts of Babe Ruth, Rogers Hornsby, Mickey Mantle, Ty Cobb, Satchel Paige, and Cy Young.
Honorary pallbearers will be the ghosts of the remainder of Major League Baseball, those who gave us the memories that we will forever cherish.
In life Baseball did such wonderful things, so it is with great sadness that we bury it today. Heroes Funeral Home

DI Hall of Fame

Your beloved DI staff (truth be told just me), after much deliberation, has picked the next class of inductees for the exclusive DI Hall of Fame. All right, I used my DI presidential authority in this induction process, so the blame is all mine if it goes south. These few individuals have over the years received a bad rap from most of the homophobic populace due to their sexual orientation, or hint at sexual orientation, or the fact that they based their entire careers off of “assisting men that are comfortable with their own sexuality to get in women’s pants faster” kind of music. As I may not personally agree with what some of them do on their own time, I do have the upmost respect for their professional careers, which has produced some of the greatest music our generation will ever have the privilege of listening to. No matter what they do behind closed doors at night, what they have done for the music industry is warrant enough for induction into our HOF.

Barry Manilow – duel entry, as Barry is famous on two different playing fields. First and foremost, Mr. Manilow the singer/songwriter/musician/kick ass entertainer performed greats such as Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head, Cant Help Falling in Love, Cant Take my Eyes off You, and remade the Righteous Brothers You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’, just another reason that made Top Gun an all time great candidate. Joined the ranks of Frank Sinatra, Michael Jackson, and Johnny Mathis as the only entertainers to have five, count em five, albums on the best selling charts at the same time. Manilow also assisted in the clean up of Hurricane Katrina , matching dollar for dollar his fans donations to the American Red Cross. Once pissed off Donald Trump, skipping on an event and keeping the front money for nearly a month, which shows that this dude isn’t scared of much. Next, Barry Manilow also starred in the hit movie Road Trip a hilarious comedy about all kinds of dumb crap. Barry got bit in the hand by a boa constrictor, grabbed his bum several times on camera, and made out with a freakishly hot red head near the closing credits. Barry/Barry, welcome to the Hall of Fame.

Elton John – arguably the greatest performer of all time, definitely in the same league as the likes of Michael Jackson, David Lee Roth & Tom Hanks, John has tuned his vocal chords in order to make the sweet sounds of instant classics (Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Bennie and the Jets, Rocket Man, Candle in the Wind, Daniel, I Guess That’s Why They call it the Blues, I’m Still Standing, Honky Cat, Tiny Dancer, Someone Saved my Life Tonight, we could go on all night); assisted in the writing portion for the songs in the ’94 kids classic The Lion King (honestly, how many of you heard or knew what Hakuna Matata meant before Mr. John gave you that sample). This is not the first HOF nod for Elton, as he is a deserving member of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and the Songwriters Hall of Fame. John also established the Elton John AIDS Foundation, pumping in a considerable amount of his own dough to assist in the worldwide fight of the deadly disease. And last but certainly not least, you must address him by the title Sir , as John was knighted by the monarch of England showing his true kickassness.

Neil Diamond – chosen for not only his superior vocals and performance characteristics, but he is also the reason for a pretty good flick in Saving Silverman, a movie about three grown men infatuated with the legendary singer/performer/kick ass entertainer. Provided the introduction for Elton John’s first American soil concert, one of the other inductees. Personally looks like he could hold his own in a bar fight, making him the man of this induction class. Inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in ’84, which may be a little more special than this one, but we wont hold that against him. His music is responsible for such great things as the theme song for the Red Sox Nation (even though he cheers for the wrong New York City baseball team, go Mets), soundtrack additions to “one of the greatest kick ass movies ever” Pulp Fiction, and inspired UB 40 to actually create something that would stick in Red Red Wine. Absolute classics such as Sweet Caroline, Oh Mary, and Evermore are just a taste of what Mr. Diamond in the rough of the music industry gave to us.

While these men do not possess qualities such as Chuck Norris or Rambo, they have displayed such qualities deserving the ultimate recognition, the introduction into the DI HOF. Welcome, and enjoy the company.