Rightfully So

One Friday night in April 1997, an unsexy Ohio State University student named Corinne Stankencooch went dancing and met a young Sigma Nu named Zac. The two of them drank and danced until two o’clock, then returned to Corinne’s apartment where they made sweet, inebriated love and passed out, Corinne’s head resting on the man’s arm. Before Corinne came to in the morning, the man had chewed off his own arm and fled, never to be seen again. She never even learned his last name.

Corinne’s life has not been the same since. She spent thousands of dollars of her own money to have her case tried in the Ohio courts, and in the process became a pariah in fraternity houses all over the country while being lauded as a trailblazer by women’s groups. Ultimately, the court ruled that men are not compelled by law to wake up their partners before leaving the morning after a drunken hook up.

Corinne was devastated, but she would not quit. Now, after eight years of unsuccesful appeals, numerous death threats, an unauthorized biography and a hastily thrown together CBS Movie of the Week starring Nicole Ritchie, her last hope lies in the hands of the nine most powerful judiciary figures in America.

“This isn’t about me,” says the woefully plain looking 29 year old as she adjusts her nerd glasses for the hundredth time. “It’s about simple decency and every woman’s right to have time to cuddle and a little conversation, if she so desires.”

Corinne’s battle has galvanized opinion like no case in recent memory. The leader of one pro-wake-up group, or “Wakers,” argues that failing to wake up one’s sexual partner and making a stealthy getaway “violates the promise the two souls made to each other while committing the sacred act of love.”

On the opposite side, “Chewers” argue that if the woman wants to talk or learn the man’s name, she ought to do that before they have sex. “All this ’sacred act’ and ‘promises between two hearts’ is a bunch of girlie fairy tale crap.” says Iowa State Junior Ty Buffington. “If they still believe all that goody-two-shoes stuff, why are they out there on the dance floor all drunk and shakin’ it like a freakin’ peacock in heat?”

Corrine realizes that the Supreme Court battle will be a close one. If the court votes along typical party lines, she stands to win a slim victory with the majority of conservatives on the bench. The wild-card may turn out to be Justice Clarence Thomas. A social conservative yet self-professed man-whore, Thomas could side with Corinne if he decides to follow the usual conservative facade of being all moral and righteous about sex. However, a vote against the Chewers could make it difficult for Thomas the next time he goes to the club for a round of good old-fashioned sexual boasting and belittling women.

“Justice Thomas is in a tight spot,” says one Washington insider. “Everyone remembers the allegations during his confirmation hearings that he chewed off his own arm once when he was a young law-clerk. He wiggled out of it because a friend of the family who was also a judge testified Thomas did it to keep a raquetball date. But the rumors persist that he did it because he panicked when he saw he’d passed out underneath a seriously fugly she-cow.”

By the end of the week one side will feel vindicated while the other is disappointed. Will the ruling mark the beginning of a new era when men are trapped into divulging their full names and phone numbers, making awkward chit-chat while continually glancing at their watches? Or will we continue to see armless, hungover young men staggering terrified across campus commons as they flee from the repulsive trolls they mistakenly bedded the night before?

Today is one of those elections where we elect the F-list politians and vote on which issue numbers sound better than others. Does it really matter? Will the outcome of this election effect me in any way? The answer is no. The city council can’t bring back prohibition laws and not a single trustee can reinstate the draft. Then there are these issues. Nobody knows what they really do, and you can’t go by the commercials at all. One might say “Issue 2 allows sex offenders to come in your house and punch your dog, vote no on Issue 2.” Then the very next commercial says “A yes vote on Issue 2 means more solid gold cars for the middle class.” So I say don’t bother voting. Instead of researching the issues, go rent a movie. Instead of waiting in line to vote, go to a strip club. On this election day remember: “Nudey Booths not Voting Booths.”

I am not one who is easily flapped. I have been to many different parts of these United States and even parts on the other side of the world. I have seen scary people in foreign airports. I have walked through abject poverty. I changed diapers filled with material heretofore unknown to man. Despite all of these facts, I was taken aback and disturbed today.
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Imagine a person who is 100% consistent. Imagine someone who will try to get you to stop whining the instant you begin. Imagine that you admire the consistency that this person can keep up in order to properly condition the subject who is whining. Now imagine this person is a dog. Evidently, mans best friend doesn’t care to hear us complain much.

I found this out quite by accident, but my dogs resolve continues to surprise me. My dog is very kind to me. Whenever she needs to eat, drink, play, or use the doggy potty room - she alerts me by coming over and looking pitiful. If I do not respond in a reasable amount of time (3.2 milliseconds), she begins a painful whine. After I realized that my dog was training me much better than I had ever trained her, I began to resist. Instead of responding to the very reasonable needs my dog was informing me of, I decided to engage in a very mature game of copycat. It turns out that she hates this.

If I mimic her whine back to her, she will whine louder. If I continue to whine she will begin pacing back and forth. As I continue to whine she will begin to bark. Finally, as my unrelenting whine hits a terrible crescendo, she storms out of the room. Once again I have a tiny epiphany and realize that my dog is acting more reasonable than I do. When my kids whine I tell them that whining will not get them what they want. They continue to whine and I inform them that whining is a sure fire way to lose privileges. As their whining intensifies to near tantrum stage I tell them to go to a room where all of the toys are. If I had just followed the lead of my dog, I would have laid down in my bed and taken a nap.

I want to be a dog, and rightfully so.

The Web 2.0: a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

The latest notion to generate buzz in the buzz-generating notions of the techno-wonks is that of the so-called Web 2.0.

Yes! A new version of the “Web.” We constantly await the newest versions from Microsoft, but, the new “Web” is larger than a single company or product. This time, it’s the the whole entire “Web” that is being upgraded. It’s socialization! It’s connecting people! It’s sharing! It’s pervasiveness! It’s a dessert topping! It’s a floor wax!

It’s stupid.

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In a move long anticipated by Hollywood hooter hounds, Jennifer Love Hewitt’s breasts this week signed a contract with 20th Century Fox Studios. The deal is reportedly worth $30 million and calls for Hewitt’s knockers to make three films with the studio over the next six years.

“We’re extremely pleased to make this announcement,” said Sy Sheinberg, head of the T&A Talent agency. “Ms. Hewitt’s jugs are easily the hardest working mammaries in the industry, and we feel this deal will garner the twins wider exposure and recognition they so deserve.”
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I am a huge fan of laziness. If you think about it, all of our modern convienences were invented by someone who was too lazy to do something. Someone was too lazy to wash dishes so they invented a dishwasher. Someone was too lazy to walk so they invented the automobile. Computer programmers are no exception. They would spend an hour writing a program that relieves them of 30 minutes of data entry. But at what point have we gone too far? The escalator was invented to make the process of climbing stairs easier. By making the stairs rise upward, the total number of stairs a person has to climb was greatly reduced. The escalator was not meant to remove the task of walking up stairs completely. When you take that first step you’re not getting on some kind of kiddy ride for your amusement. The people that just stand there have become too lazy. However, there is an even greater evil, the people who stand on the moving walkways at the airport. These people are the constipation of the public transportation system. Where are we headed as a society? Are we all going to start scooting around on motorized wheelchairs because we are too lazy or too overweight to move under our own power. The time has come for us to draw the line between innovation and retardation, and rightfully so.