tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35949629709259396442024-03-05T00:37:58.142-05:00Polar Bear PeriodicalBringing clarity and understanding to entertainment, the arts, news, and technology.Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-20216817780881492952016-09-28T11:33:00.001-04:002016-09-28T11:39:25.410-04:00The Only Reason I'm Addicted to Pokemon Go (Free Pokecoins)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifF-y6O0uMa805ie6J8dqTxQJq39tFVO1i5ZLarxQh0_VKHwZwMz73JPEljEj0exCbPefSc7CKF8N1z66KJuPaKpE66rlxjFxGn-OaVni8Rs51pkQpUfZvTGo1z6pLPXWhJPKIKYKMEYg/s1600/pokecoins3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="174" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifF-y6O0uMa805ie6J8dqTxQJq39tFVO1i5ZLarxQh0_VKHwZwMz73JPEljEj0exCbPefSc7CKF8N1z66KJuPaKpE66rlxjFxGn-OaVni8Rs51pkQpUfZvTGo1z6pLPXWhJPKIKYKMEYg/s320/pokecoins3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Getting Free In-game Pokecoins</h3>
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The only way to get pokecoins without spending real money to buy them is either taking down or fortify a gym. I have put together a step by step guide to help you do just that. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvzB8qm9AVlKv8d2ANEs7kC-EG952zJsSYSQIn7mXMHiyy_nk3RuOS3MJvEdg_VJrG2jFJQerJgSPJTKmMsQgl63kTIbxb5hIQ9mp_4wWa6AaavxbLGN5b9lJQH7WMT94oOri2brrsnGU/s1600/pokecoins1.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvzB8qm9AVlKv8d2ANEs7kC-EG952zJsSYSQIn7mXMHiyy_nk3RuOS3MJvEdg_VJrG2jFJQerJgSPJTKmMsQgl63kTIbxb5hIQ9mp_4wWa6AaavxbLGN5b9lJQH7WMT94oOri2brrsnGU/s200/pokecoins1.png" width="196" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pokemon Gym</td></tr>
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<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">Step 1: Make sure you are level 5 or higher. (Level up by walking around and catching Pokemon)</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">Step 2: Find a gym and click on it. (Gyms are those large multi-tiered platforms with Pokemon on top randomly placed around the map) </li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">Step 3: Join team (Mystic, Valor or Instinct) <a href="http://www.polygon.com/2016/7/11/12148448/which-pokemon-go-team-should-i-pick" target="_blank">Check this link out for deciding which team to play because once you choose you can't change. </a></li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">Step 4: Take down the gym or fortify it.</li>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fortify or Battle</td></tr>
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<li style="box-sizing: border-box;"> If your team is already fortifying the gym (Note the color of the platform before clicking on the gym. Blue is Mystic, Yellow is Instinct, and Red is Valor) and there is an extra spot for one of your Pokemon you will see a little join button on the bottom left hand side of the screen. Click this button then choose one of your Pokemon to join the gym and *poof you have now joined the gym with that Pokemon.</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">If another team is fortifying the gym the join button will not be available and you will have to battle to take down the team fortifying the gym. (The number of battles required to take it down depend on the gym XP level and the number of Pokemon fortifying it.) Click the battle button on the bottom right and choose your top 6 Pokemon for the fight, then click go. Once you have defeated all the Pokemon and knocked the gym XP down to "0" you will have the option to fortify it. Choose a Pokemon to place in that gym and *poof, you have claimed and fortified a gym for your team. </li>
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<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">Step 5: Once you are back on the map screen, click on your level counter with your avatar's face next to it and it will take you to your avatar screen with leveling statistics, medals, team information and amount of Pokecoins you have. </li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">Step 6: Click on the Pokecoin. It will take you to the shop. </li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">Step 7: Click on the shield in the top right corner if it has a number other than "0". You will get 10 Pokecoins for every gym you are fortifying and a 21 hour counter will begin. Once every 21 hours, you’ll be able to go into the Shop and “cash in”. </li>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzssJwYbTJoR6Eb_npOgsBeET6-EBU4LABmqIAkDE7K4c69hfS0Hq1ir_FuJ1FjG6RZ9cD1JhJcBHw4XG09ksB9u8ElDRFzJaw1YEHI8R-FMHhf-e-gs9SvksaDoFv_8MFyYKpcVPKCAk/s1600/pokecoins4.jpg.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzssJwYbTJoR6Eb_npOgsBeET6-EBU4LABmqIAkDE7K4c69hfS0Hq1ir_FuJ1FjG6RZ9cD1JhJcBHw4XG09ksB9u8ElDRFzJaw1YEHI8R-FMHhf-e-gs9SvksaDoFv_8MFyYKpcVPKCAk/s320/pokecoins4.jpg.png" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leveling Statistics</td></tr>
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<ul>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">You get 10 coins and 500 Stardust for every Pokemon you have on a Gym. If you have five Pokemon on five Gyms, you’ll earn 50 coins and 2500 Stardust.</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">You can have an infinite number of Pokemon on an infinite number of Pokemon Gyms. However, the “cash in” maxes out at 10 gyms.</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">Because of this, you can earn up to 100 Pokecoins and 5000 Stardust every 21 hours!</li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhloNdotTaypnn_Pc_3vTnQKZZmH2b644hiZIQovdMbUYGZ1rqKrrMFL_zOCxl2Zs7SH5CPn4U7f1SbiOSH59P7XjgI2rdB86da8vG4WgV7Q1UCNKSevmFaCqNjfAbcrgO8HJAHlffL_dY/s1600/pokecoins5.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhloNdotTaypnn_Pc_3vTnQKZZmH2b644hiZIQovdMbUYGZ1rqKrrMFL_zOCxl2Zs7SH5CPn4U7f1SbiOSH59P7XjgI2rdB86da8vG4WgV7Q1UCNKSevmFaCqNjfAbcrgO8HJAHlffL_dY/s320/pokecoins5.png" title="Pokemon Shop" width="180" /></a>Please be aware, that this means you will need to be aggressive and alot of your pokemon will need reviving and health boosts after battles. This will likely require lots of Potions and Revive capsules so stock up on them at as many Pokestops as you can. </div>
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Happy Hunting from the Polar Bear. </div>
Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-39828450032867932642016-07-27T11:55:00.003-04:002016-07-27T11:55:56.279-04:00A Meme For All You Pokemon Go Players<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2-u8oeD-XZmZvterqShLamUxzKZLHQjzp-EUBvsdtL1J05qN-oBGzjLo2-_y7S7EuELSNKWNNDXI0qD2UqimOOwV7bGnE5GA9Q3tmwgdiuJjYXX3nxNZ0yVmruP5YjVZIUpXyDfsj7bc/s1600/pokemonmeme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2-u8oeD-XZmZvterqShLamUxzKZLHQjzp-EUBvsdtL1J05qN-oBGzjLo2-_y7S7EuELSNKWNNDXI0qD2UqimOOwV7bGnE5GA9Q3tmwgdiuJjYXX3nxNZ0yVmruP5YjVZIUpXyDfsj7bc/s320/pokemonmeme.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-6184802965403522702016-07-25T16:32:00.001-04:002016-07-25T16:35:15.354-04:0020,000 Emails Under the DNC (Good Wife Season 5 Spoiler, sorta)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Emails, Emails, Emails. It seems that the Democrats have a leakage problem. Days before the Hillary Coronation Event, otherwise known as the Democratic National Convention, an email server sprung a leak, and all of a sudden, everyone is in an uproar about the Democratic Party strategizing against Bernie Sanders in the Presidential Primaries this year. This isn't some regular "uproar" where people get their undergarments all knotted and twisted. The knotting and twisting has completely taken over the outergarments as well and is threatening bodily accessories items like neckties and iWatches.<br />
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Immediate casualties seem to be minimal. Debbie Wasserman Schultz is resigning and being booed everywhere she goes. And Hillary falls down a small hole that she is more than capable of crawling out of as long as those folks in power are still able to come through on their promise to give her a shot at being crowned President.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJuHghufhcN9b4s0hCtKBUmo-1Lk_sFSIbPo6Bgq3X2hUlSHJPfDqGiMzXinFCD_p1AbkWYvujQBZOFLAGKdDuoRsXFCEH1acLfe3BKAZOftZtf6fg3OpX4exa1YnKZ3crlLZ3mh9vJ0o/s1600/What-if-Snowden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJuHghufhcN9b4s0hCtKBUmo-1Lk_sFSIbPo6Bgq3X2hUlSHJPfDqGiMzXinFCD_p1AbkWYvujQBZOFLAGKdDuoRsXFCEH1acLfe3BKAZOftZtf6fg3OpX4exa1YnKZ3crlLZ3mh9vJ0o/s320/What-if-Snowden.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Bernie Sanders is handling it as well as he could. It's like he was always the kid picked last for a basketball team in gym class, and this time he was picked second because all the cool kids were rooting for him liked they rooted for <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rudy_Ruettiger" target="_blank">Rudy Ruettiger</a> at Notre Dame. Then, all of sudden after the emails leaked, he realized that he might have actually gotten picked first if it wasn't for the P.E. teacher and that one guy who smelled like beef stew by the end of the day.<br />
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Oddly enough, Bernie seems to be enjoying the uproar and hearing everyone's voices get higher and louder on talk shows. He's made mention of the resignation and seems to think that's a good idea, but he's laying pretty low at this point. He's playing it smart because he's the martyr in all of this, and it's elevating him from the position of a "defeated underdog" to a "legitimate contender" in the eyes of a lot of hopeless 99-percenters, which, if you count it all up, is about 9 percent of us. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRzubvADMHJu9Nq9-dCRmiZGyjmkjDIPlhWMO50NeFpAwOUmIlmLs9ZQIX3s5SyKHmJO6R7QeVN-clB_V5H5LPdKtj2lL6bbSMDJaqM3bWFwPAUH4lU5VGHM575aSXskyzbP0LzlauYgk/s1600/kermit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRzubvADMHJu9Nq9-dCRmiZGyjmkjDIPlhWMO50NeFpAwOUmIlmLs9ZQIX3s5SyKHmJO6R7QeVN-clB_V5H5LPdKtj2lL6bbSMDJaqM3bWFwPAUH4lU5VGHM575aSXskyzbP0LzlauYgk/s320/kermit.jpg" width="320" /></a>My biggest concern in all of this is not the act of colluding against competitors or even the leaking/hacking of the emails. The concern is the fact that public seems legitimately surprised that this was happening. Watch the <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1442462/" target="_blank">Good Wife</a>. It will be eye opening and begin to make a lot of sense. It will help you with that Red Pill you took.<br />
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What you should be realizing is that this year's DNC is the culmination of everything that happened during Bill Clinton's administration, and how he was able to escape from the political death trap he had created for himself. Hillary sacrificed herself by putting up with all the shenanigans, and her nomination is the reward that she gets for everything she put up with all those years. There were many meetings in smoke filled rooms with lots of books and whiskey glasses back in the 90's. Every important democrat did his part to convince Hillary that she had to stand up next to her husband, and that her solidarity with him would secure his place of power despite his penchant for beautiful interns and his ability to lie so convincingly. They had to give her something in return and this was it. It was all in a secret book passed down from DNC Chairman to DNC Chairman. HILLARY MUST WIN THE NOMINATION BECAUSE SHE DID EVERYTHING WE ASKED HER TO DO BACK IN THE 90's. And then it listed everything she did back in the 90's from giving Bill a hug to fetching coffee for his interns.<br />
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I could have told you this was going to happen after watching season 5 of the Good Wife.<br />
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<br />Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-41710697244279200032016-02-22T11:01:00.002-05:002016-02-22T11:12:20.526-05:00A Theory About What's Really Going on in The Walking Dead<div data-contents="true">
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<span data-offset-key="blajj-0-0"><span data-text="true">I was thinking about The Walking Dead universe the other day and season one and all the craziness Rick encountered when he woke up out of that coma in the first episode and this thought occurred to me: </span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="blajj-0-0"><span data-text="true">What if what's really going on is Rick actually died in that hospital in Episode 1, and now he's in a pre-hell kind of place with a bunch of other people who don't realize they died, but this place isn't hell like we know it, but its actually still earth, but its a different plane of existence, so all the zombies that they see are actually just normal selfish, dead, ugly souls of living people walking around here on earth, because that's how we look to someone who is walking around actually dead. Every time a zombie takes a head-shot, the person who's soul that represents in the real world actually becomes someone with a decent heart and a living spirit. Soooo in essence what Rick and his crew and anyone else trying to survive are actually doing is saving the whole human race from the same eternal damnation they are experiencing by helping them get to heaven.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="blajj-0-0"><span data-text="true">Maybe just a stupid fan theory and possibly one that's already out there, but the thought just occurred to me today so I had to give it legs just in case in the series finale all gets revealed and I turn out to be right and Robert Kirkman gives me an award for figuring out the biggest twist in TV/Comic Book history.</span></span></div>
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Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-45993312563331037872016-01-01T16:06:00.001-05:002016-01-01T16:06:46.830-05:00Welcome 2016<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Things I'm excited about in 2016</div>
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1. Disney is releasing a Pete's Dragon movie</div>
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2. The U.S. presidential election</div>
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3. Hoverboards</div>
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4. Ultra HD broadcasts (4k)</div>
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5. The Superbowl and the 2016 Redskins</div>
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6. iPhone 7</div>
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7. The Olympics</div>
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8. Virtual Reality</div>
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9. Smart Cars</div>
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10. and Leap Day February 29th </div>
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People are becoming resolute today. Enrollment is up at the gym, and Phillip Morris is once again bracing for low numbers in January. I'm sure you've seen a multitude of "Year in Review" episodes, and you'll probably see many more, because you've already forgotten so much and want to see if others remember what you did. We can expect some things to happen, and yet there is also much anticipation for things we can't expect. </div>
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Last year gave us a boatload of record breaking cinema, bizarre entertainment news, and the beginning of an exciting presidential race. However, 2015 was also over-shadowed by horrific violence at the hands of dastardly people and organizations. As a world we were knocked down more times in one year than I can remember. I don't know if the actual statistics are up, or if I'm just noticing them more because I have a growing family to worry about.<br />
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Despite the awesomeness, the sour notes, the useless cultural epithets and the things that made us laugh, 2015 is now history. Some things were recorded with graphic detail, others are a pixelated recollection. Events of the world and the days of our lives might become a vague memory while most things will be forgotten, yet I'm oddly hopeful.<br />
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I hope this past year teaches our leaders and helps them grow wiser to the plans of evil doers, so we can thwart more villains and bring more peace. I hope generosity and gratitude increases, so the less fortunate become more hopeful and the more fortunate become more socially aware of injustice. I hope the weather systems balance and seasons change appropriately, so farmers can be confident in their crops and I don't have to pay so much for food. For my sake, I hope nostalgia in the arts continues, so I can continue to share my childhood with my own children. But for my children's sake, I hope that there is an increase in fresh, cool ideas and stories to build their own memories and experiences with. </div>
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I wish everyone out there strength to deal with the downs of the new year and humility to deal with the ups. </div>
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Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-6284658254650014732015-09-15T12:49:00.004-04:002016-01-06T15:33:24.910-05:00The Language of Social Media<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://chelco.coopwebbuilder2.com/sites/chelcochelco/files/images/social%20media3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://chelco.coopwebbuilder2.com/sites/chelcochelco/files/images/social%20media3.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />
<br />
Facebook post: "Panda Express needs to get in my mouth"<br />
Translation - "I'm hungry for some good food."<br />
<br />
Facebook post: "This."<br />
Translation: "I'm speechless" or "My vocabulary is not adequate enough to convey the emotion behind what I'm posting, so just click the link below to read an article or watch a video."<br />
<br />
Facebook post: "That is all."<br />
Translation: "."<br />
<br />
Facebook post: "I wish there was a dislike button"<br />
Translation: "I hate this, but I nervously laughed a little"<br />
<br />
Facebook post: "I literally died."<br />
Translation: "This was pretty funny, but I'm still alive."<br />
<br />
Facebook post: "WTH"<br />
Translation: "Here's something that happened that I find hard to believe; and also, in case you didn't know, I don't like to use extreme profanity."<br />
<br />
Facebook post: "no comments please"<br />
Translation: "I'm voicing my opinion about an issue that will make people upset, but I don't want to hear what you think, and I don't know how to disable comments on this post."<br />
<br />
In the interest of a social study please feel free to add to this list or make any corrections to my observationsPolar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-843991524142199502014-08-12T15:26:00.003-04:002014-08-12T15:46:10.649-04:00An Artistic Heavy Weight: Robin Williams<br />
Aladdin, Dead Poet's Society, The Fisher King, Patch Adams, Good Will Hunting, Mork and Mindy, The Crazy Ones, only gave us a tiny glimpse into the artistic mind of Robin Williams. He was so much more than he showed us on camera. He was a titan in his industry, but he was a human. He struggled just like we do. He fought his demons just like we do. Sometimes he triumphed and sometimes he gave up, just like we do. I heard an interview with him on NPR, and it gave me a deeper glimpse into the person that hid behind the face. It's an interview he did with Terry Gross from NPR's Fresh Air. There is a lot of talk about the film he was promoting at the time but she really gets deep with him around 13:30 and at around the 30:20 mark they start talking about how depression affects funny people.<br />
<br />
<embed src="http://www.npr.org/v2/?i=6534689&m=6534690&t=audio" height="386" wmode="opaque" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" base="http://www.npr.org" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed>Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-31452362214620328992014-08-09T20:15:00.002-04:002014-08-09T22:55:57.801-04:00The Business of Rat Races and BaconOne score and fifteen years ago my father and mother brought forth upon this continent, a baby boy. He was to be groomed and trained for a survival game, if you will, making the world go round with the pitter-patter of his humungous little feet inside an unbeatable obstacle course that has been commonly referred to as The Rat Race. I am this boy, and I have been running this Rat Race for about 10 years now. It is tiring and upsetting and rewarding and exciting, but aside from all that it has been completely and totally irrelevant to life and by "completely and totally irrelevant " I mean "utterly and fundamentally irrelevant". It's almost as if it has been a facade to suck me away from the real reality that is really real. What is this reality, you ask? I'll tell you: The exquisite and yet delicate balance of the phenomenon known as BACON.<br />
<br />
There is no such thing as money in my pocket, only bacon in my mouth.<br />
There is no such thing as a name on my docket, only bacon in my mouth.<br />
There is no such thing as a raise or a promotion, only bacon in my mouth.<br />
There is no such thing as delays or demotions, only bacon in my mouth. <br />
<br />
I forget this truth so often and I'm here to echo a reminder through the maze of The Rat Race: STOP! ENJOY SOME BACON!<br />
Don't let the world get you down<br />
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<br />Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-1972777600199153002014-08-06T16:29:00.000-04:002014-08-06T16:33:21.306-04:00A Polar Bear Reviews Guardians of the Galaxy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The film is based on an obscure Marvel comic book about 5 random beings thrown
together as a result of various circumstances. They are the epitome of
unlikely hero's. As a matter of fact, it could have been the subtitle of
this movie. The characters were shockingly deep and full of life and each one of these unlikely hero's stole my heart. <br />
<br />
Considering all the buzz I've heard over the internet and social media, I bought my tickets on-line and got to the theater 10 minutes early. However, the theater wasn't as packed as I thought it was going to be. Where was everyone? A few more people slowly trickled in, but the theater was less then half full. I couldn't believe it. It seemed like everyone was talking about this film. Then I realized, not everyone was talking about this film. Only the geeks were talking about this film. They were talking so loudly that I hardly noticed the rest of society was completely silent on the matter and had passed it off as another potential flop. <br />
<br />
I'll be honest, there are too many geeks out there, so it won't be a flop, but it doesn't have enough familiarity to entice the everyday house wife or the <i>Sports Center</i> watching businessman. However, I have to give it to the director, because he made it as palpable as possible for the non-geek. An adorable and yet strikingly handsome human played by Chris Pratt from Parks and Recreation and his nostalgic Walkman are both culture life-preservers in this Alien world on the other side of our galaxy.<br />
<br />
As movies go it was out-of-this-world, and geeks around the world would applaud it as a good adaptation of the comic. If the mainstream public can set aside reality for the first 10 minutes of the film and not try to compare it to something that they know or recognize, then they will appreciate and come to love it by the second act. The plot was thick with action, humor, and drama. Subtleties like background action and irony make it a pleasure to watch. Character dynamics makes it interesting to follow, and directorial genius, make it one of those movies that you will want to watch again and again. <br />
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<br />Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-56433961390510916492014-02-26T11:28:00.005-05:002014-08-19T15:28:11.753-04:00Bitcoin: What Is It and How Does It Work<br />
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There are approximately 12 million bitcoins in circulation with new bitcoins added to circulation every day. By the year 2114 there will be 21 million bitcoins in existance. Then the digital bitcoin mint will be shut down for ever, and we will have to survive on these 21 million bitcoins. No amount of pretty girls or declarations of war can change this because this is part of the Bitcoin protocol. 21 million. That's the number they went with. Not 42, (which we all know is the answer to life, the universe, and everything), but 21.<br />
<br />
They, (and by "they" I mean, those who write thick books in small print) say this protocol will guard Bitcoin against inflation. But inflation isn't the only ogre that is hiding under the monetary bridge. Bitcoin is a digital currency based on the internet and computers and servers and laptops and USB drives and so forth. So naturally, the Bitcoin creators had to make sure they were guarding against the number one digital threat, 31337 H4X0Rs, or Elite Hackers. So how do they keep hackers from getting into their Bitcoin program? Easy, you hide your program in the Internet. That's right. IN the Internet. Somewhere in the Internet, hidden behind a period on a humble blog post or sneaking around someone's Facebook page, is the one and only Bitcoin. "How do you hide an entire program on the Internet?" you may be asking. Technically, It's actually just one long chain of letters and numbers and symbols that when put together make up the phenomenon known as Bitcoin. This simple act of hiding this Bitcoin "block-chain" is actually the key behind "printing" or "mining" bitcoin. The art of bitcoin mining is a simple system based solely on finding this program that is purposefully floating around the internet like a smart Lego in outer space.<br />
<br />
If you get out your Bitcoin approved telescope and find this Lego roaming around the Andromeda Galaxy of the Internet somewhere, and you go get it before anyone else does, you can take another Lego piece and add to the one that's already there. When this is done, you release one bitcoin into the digital world. Apparently, this is happening at least 25 times every ten minutes, but the bigger our block-chain or Lego creation gets, the less you will be able to add to it. This is also part of the Bitcoin protocol. So what happens when one of these hackers tries to "Select All" and "CTRL C" this block-chain of ones and zeros and throw another identical Lego piece out there? Good question.<br />
<br />
The answer is, they can't. Something about... blah blah blah blah... they just can't okay...<br />
Yet.<br />
All that Bitcoin has to do is stay ahead of the hackers for 100 years. Then when all the bitcoin currency has been released into circulation the giant Bitcoin Lego behemoth will self destruct, and all hacking attempts will be thwarted. Inflation will not exist and the world will be saved, the unicorns can finally come back, and the dolphins won't have to say, "So long! And thanks for all the fish."<br />
<br />
One hundred years. That's a long time. You can bet people will try to crack the code and ruin Bitcoin, but the cool thing is, most hackers and computer geeks want this thing to succeed. They want a currency they can depend on. Dollars and cents aren't cutting it anymore. If you haven't noticed pocket's don't jingle with change anymore. Wallets engorge themselves with plastic cards that have little magnetic strips on them. People are slowly moving away from physical cash. Most of our transactions occur through computers now, anyway. It seems everyday we move closer and closer to a cashless society. So I ask, why not Bitcoin? It's safer than what we have. It's not controlled by one country or one large bank or the price of gold. It's controlled by you and me. People on their computers, peer-to-peer (P2P). Whether it ends up working or not, I think the idea is pretty incredible. <br />
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Bitcoin is getting stronger and the almighty dollar is weaker than it's been in a long time. A dollar bill is just a sophisticated piece of paper now and it doesn't even have gold to back it up anymore. It calls itself a "note." We pass notes in class, that said, "Do you like me? yes, no, or maybe." I pass my "note" to the cashier and she looks at it and checks "yes." Then puts it in her drawer, and I walk out with a bunch of merchandise. What happens when the cashiers start looking at our notes and checking "maybe"?<br />
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The news is telling us Bitcoin <i>is</i> the next big thing. Many retail companies are accepting it as a currency now, and it's traded in over 200 countries and can even be exchanged at currency exchanges in airports and banks. It's slowly gaining momentum around the world. As I'm writing this 1 bitcoin (BTC) is worth $561.00 (USD), and if you click <a href="http://preev.com/" target="_blank">here, this link will tell you what it is worth right now</a>, however it doesn't cost anything to set up a Bitcoin Wallet.<br />
<br />
I set my Bitcoin wallet up through <a href="http://localbitcoins.com/" target="_blank">Localbitcoins.com</a>. It's empty right now, but not for long. Soon I will be going in search of the Giant Lego in the sky hoping to mine a bitcoin or two. Not because I need it or even want it, but because I'm kind of a nerd and the whole concept fascinates me. I've included a link on the top of my blog page that, if any of you find yourself swimming in a vault full of bitcoins like Scrooge McDuck and you would like to contribute to my cause, you may click on and donate bitcoins to my wallet. <br />
<br />
My money is not on Bitcoin just yet. I've done some research and am playing with it like a cheap toy. If it succeeds, great. A currency to beat all currencies. We could use a little hope in the financial world these days. But if it's not successful, someone will come along and develop something stronger and safer, and we will see if that catches on and becomes the next big thing. In the meantime, I will watch the worlds currencies, bend a sway with the times and the peoples, and enjoy earning, paying, giving and protecting what's mine. <br />
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_______________________________________________________________________________ <br />
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“He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream and he sometimes wondered whose it was and whether they were enjoying it.”
<br />
―
Douglas Adams,
<i>
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
</i><br />
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Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-58808994353225142432013-08-06T11:42:00.002-04:002013-08-06T11:44:18.373-04:00The Quest to Unleash the Beast of Affordable CareNo I didn't read it. Neither did anyone else. No one actually wrote it either. It came from above, similar to the way we got the Bible and The Weather Channel. It resides in a super secret room next to a nice leather chair that no one is aloud to sit in until King Arthur comes back and is able to pull the Red Ribbon out from under it. Then he can sit in the chair and he will become the first person to ever read it.<br />
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I'm here to inform you that the ultimate quest has only just begun. However, the Wizard needs food in order to find the remaining six talisman that will help find the chosen one with enough stamina, ritalin, and midichlorians to unwrap the beast of affordable healthcare in America. The first stage is complete. The dragon was appeased and Congress received the Power of "I'm rubber and you're glue, anything it says bounces off us and sticks to you." They will be shielded from all negative effects of the financial cauldron being brewed for some beautiful princess asleep in a cottage with 3 dying kids because their fairy godmother had to drop their insurance and pay the penalty or risk losing her business of making pumpkin chariots. But there is a Dark Knight arising from the east by the name of State's Attorneys General<br />
<br />
We can only hope that King Arthur will be found and we can finally see what's in it, because that's why we passed it. Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-15413003409717467982013-06-14T15:43:00.002-04:002013-06-14T15:58:47.729-04:00The Dichotomy of a Superhero<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Hello readers. I present some questions for you. Who is the greater thespian, Clark Kent
or Superman? Does Clark Kent, in those smashing horned-rims, put on a
greater show as Superman, than the multi-talented, acrobatic Superman puts on as Clark Kent? More to the point, is Clark Kent disguised as
Superman. Or is Superman disguised as Clark Kent?<br />
<br />
<br />
Is it hard to be Clark Kent when Superman lurks
just under his dress shirt and tie? When he's Superman, does the feeling of saving the world and being a
demi-god balance out the feeling of being an outsider? Is it safe to be
Superman in a world where judgmentalism and social systems rule,
and those who stand out are at the mercy of the papparazzi? Consider these things and one might be able to see
why he would choose to give up his superhero identity.<br />
<br />
Clark Kent, clumsy, geeky, unsure, and full of promise as one of
Metropolis's greatest reporters fools everyone. No one even assumes what
he's truly capable of. His co-workers, the ones he sees everyday, can't
seem to figure it out. He must be good at being Clark Kent, because it
comes so natural. As Clark Kent he's connected to the
microcosm of the planet. He's part of the world, part of society,
another voter in the democracy. He belongs as Clark Kent. <br />
<br />
I'm not an alien from another planet with temptations of being a deity, but I do know this: as Superman he seems to
be himself, at one with physics and the rest of the universe, excluding
one thing... humanity.<br />
<br />
Yes, as Superman he's a superstar with fame and fortune. He
could rule the world if he wanted. He's moral, and he risks his life to save others, which doesn't
go unrecognized. He's heralded as the greatest superhero of all time. A
just superhero. A passionate superhero. A freedom-defending superhero.
But a lonely superhero. The moments when he feels most like himself,
doing the things he does best, are the moments he feels the most
isolated. He knows if they really knew him they would poke with camera's
and prod with scientists. These people can never know his true
identity.<br />
<br />
His true identity? Is it Clark Kent, as he's known by his
Social Security Number? or Superman as he's known by the world? Does he
even have a true identity? Are Clark Kent and Superman two halves that
make up a whole? Clark Kent, an alien, adopted by a family who couldn't have
children of their own. Superman, an alien, adopted by a world hungry
for something to believe in. <br />
<br />
I think the answers to these question and the reason he can keep a level head on his shoulders lie in a third identity, Kal-el. Once, a long time ago, before he came to
earth he was considered "normal" on a planet called Krypton. Just like
every other baby boy. He had no super powers. He wasn't special. He fit
in perfectly, before even realizing he had a need to fit in. His true identity as Kal-el is not known by the world around
him, but it is the glue that holds Clark and Superman together. Without
Kal-el the dichotomy between Superman and Clark Kent would splinter off
into oblivion and darkness would overtake his soul as well as the rest
of the world.<br />
<br />
Although Krypton is no more in the physical universe, it
exists within the heart of the last Kryptonian, Kal-el son of Jor-el.<br />
<br />
Many people think that Superman is a story that is impossible to relate to, but I
perceive there is something in the story of Superman that we can all
relate to. Think about this. Have you ever felt the need to fit in? How about the need to be yourself? Is your desire to "belong" stronger than your need to be yourself? Can you have both? If you had to choose, which would make you happier?<br />
<br />
Superman is loved not because he is so much like God, but because as a kind of God, he is so much like us. Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-86234171639766496822013-04-03T14:44:00.001-04:002013-04-03T14:50:20.169-04:00Downton Abbey in YO FACE!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've found a most splendid avenue of entertainment in recent months, and it includes the likes of a few unfathomably rich aristocrats who go through money like crack addicts, a galley of quick witted servants who are somehow able to find the positive side of a negative ion, and a majestic castle that has been slapped in the architectural behind by Ivanhoe's joust. </div>
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Produced by ITV media in Britain, the show is currently on break between the 3rd and 4th season and my appetite for the show is growing with each passing day. I find myself making nasty quips about the working class because I'm trying to fill a void left by the Dowager. She never ceases to create a ball of fun around high class stereotypes offering as much repartee as a droll Joel Robinson at a B-movie convention. Another character I didn't realize I could fall in love with is the portly cook donning dirty aprons and sporting a small bonnet over her thinning red coif, but she has won me over. Ms. Patmore's personality keeps everyone in the basement on their toes and almost mirrors the Dowager's wit to those in her circles. </div>
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These two characters create most of the levity that is the true charm of this show, and I have scoured the internet for quotes comparing the two wisecracking women. </div>
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<u style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Top Quotes by Mrs. Beryl Patmore (The Cook)</u></div>
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<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19px;">Nothing makes you hungrier or more tired than grief... When my sister died, God rest her soul, I ate my way through four platefuls of sandwiches at one sitting and slept 'round the clock.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 23px;">Daisy, I said you could go for a dr</span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 23px;">ink of water, not a trip up the Nile.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 23px;">You (Daisy) are normally dozy, but tonight you make Sleeping Beauty look alert.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 23px;">Oh Dear, Have you Swallowed a Dictionary?</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 23px;">It’s a poor workman who blames his tools.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 23px;">Anyone with use of their limbs can make a salmon mousse</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 23px;">Ugh. Talk about making a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. I wish I had a sow’s ear. It would be better than this brisket.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 23px;">Do I look like a frolicker?</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 23px;">William’s got more to say than a parliamentary candidate.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 23px;">Why are you using a lemon knife to cut a clementine?</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 24px;">If you must pay money, better to a doctor than an undertaker</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 24px;">Of course she married beneath her. And who are you, the Habsburg Archduke?</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Ooo, it's wonderful what fear can do to the human spirit.</span></li>
</ol>
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span>
<u>Top </u><u>Violet Grantham</u><u> (</u><u>Dowager</u><u>) Quotes:</u><br />
<ol>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 22px;">Don't be defeatist, dear. It's so middle class.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 23px;">Last night! He looked so well. Of course it would happen to a foreigner. No Englishman would dream of dying in someone else’s house.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">We can't have him assassinated. I suppose.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 22px;">She's like a homing pigeon - she finds our underbelly every time!</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 22px;">What, pray tell, is a 'weekEND'?</span></li>
<li><span style="border: 0px; line-height: 14px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit;">Oh, dear, such a glare. I feel as if I were on stage at the Gaiety.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="border: 0px; line-height: 14px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit;">Good heavens! What am I sitting on?...Another modern brainwave?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 22px;">Vulgarity is no substitute for wit.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 22px;">An aristocrat without servants is about as useful as a glass hammer.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 14px;">Sometimes I feel as if I were living in an H.G. Wells novel.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 14px;">She's so slight a real necklace would flatten her.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 22px;">Nothing succeeds like Excess.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;">But if there are relapses. W</span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;">hat then? Amputation in the dining room? Resuscitation in the pantry?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Do you think I might have a drink? Oh, I'm so </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">sorry – I thought you were a waiter.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 14px;">At my age one must ra</span><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 14px;">tion one's </span><span style="line-height: 14px;">excitement</span></span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19.5px;">'Lie' is so unmusical a word.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit;">I do think a woman's place is eventually in the home, but I see no harm in her having some fun before she gets there</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit;">That is the thing about nature: there is so much of it.</span></li>
</ol>
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Hope you enjoyed the quotes. </div>
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And to carry you over until next season which will start in January 2014 I've provided a link to the Downton Abbey opening montage below.</div>
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<br />Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-75522074487555617772013-02-08T11:24:00.000-05:002013-02-08T11:52:44.153-05:00Government says "No" to Death Star Petition<a href="http://gan.doubleclick.net/gan_click?lid=41000613802464048&pid=23480573&adurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.officemax.com%2Ftechnology%2Fvideo-gaming-gadgets%2Fvideo-games%2Fmicrosoft-xbox-360%2Fproduct-prod4290366%3Fcm_mmc%3DPerformics-_-Technology-_-Video%2520Gaming%2520and%2520Gadgets-_-Video%2520Games%26ci_src%3D14110944%26ci_sku%3D23480573&usg=AFHzDLs-mfvVaq2hztr8TxHfR2uREkrnWQ&pubid=619866" rel="nofollow"></a><br />
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<br />
A few weeks ago the galaxies relaxed when the US Government officially responded to a petition made on <a href="https://petitions.whitehouse.gov/response/isnt-petition-response-youre-looking">https://petitions.whitehouse.gov </a><br />
Here it is:<br />
<br />
Petition: <span class="petition-title">Secure resources and funding, and begin construction of a Death Star by 2016</span><br />
<span class="petition-title">Response: </span>The Administration shares your desire for job creation and a strong
national defense, but a Death Star isn't on the horizon. Here are a few
reasons:<br />
<ul>
<li>The construction of the Death Star <a class="no-follow" href="http://www4.lehigh.edu/business/about/deathstar.aspx">has been estimated</a> to cost more than $850,000,000,000,000,000. We're working hard to reduce the deficit, not expand it.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>The Administration does not support blowing up planets.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Why
would we spend countless taxpayer dollars on a Death Star with a
fundamental flaw that can be exploited by a one-man starship?</li>
</ul>
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<br />
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First of all, may I say, "Here Here", then may I politely stand and clap for the respectable stance that our administration is taking against the annihilation of planets. <br />
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Second of all, I would like to thank the current administration for taking the much needed time to explain why they would be taking such a stand.<br />
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Third of all, I would like to honor the Star Wars fans that work in the White House, with a characteristic Mandalorian handshake, and wish you well.<br />
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Fourth of all, I hope this <i>does not</i> mean that you will stop researching hyperdrive capabilities for the T-65J Advanced X-wing Starfighters that you plan to sell to the Egyptians and Syrians.<br />
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And last, but not least, thanks for proving that most of you still have your virginity. <br />
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That is all.<br />
<br />
Now, enjoy these beautiful ads<br />
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<br />Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-85807136735192020322013-01-15T16:11:00.004-05:002013-01-15T16:11:59.220-05:00Why Do They Call It A Trailer?The Trailer. A teaser. A preview. A coming attraction. A buzz creator. A peak into the future. The most adrenaline-driven slice of advertising you'll see this side of adrenaline-driven advertising. The good ones leave you wanting more, the bad ones take all the best scenes from the movie and tell you too much.<br />
Surely, you cannot count how many times you have sat in a theater during the trailers and elbowed your movie going mates with eyes wide open and whisper, "We gotta go see that!"<br />
Yes, like hot butter pumped from a spigot and 10 dollar bags of M&M's, trailers are part of movie-going lore and without them we might all just shrivel up and die of pure boredom. They have their undeniable place as an introduction to many if not all feature films. So why do they call them trailers? They come at the beginning of the movie not the end.<br />
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My mom asked me this a few days ago and I didn't have an answer for her. I was ashamed. The internet to the rescue!<br />
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<a href="http://blog.chron.com/outtakes/2007/09/why-do-you-call-a-preview-a-trailer/">http://blog.chron.com/outtakes/2007/09/why-do-you-call-a-preview-a-trailer/</a><br />
<br />
So there you have it. Trailers are called trailers because movies used to come in bulk serving sizes and what else were they gonna shove between each movie but a trailer for another movie. Therefore in the early days of going to the theater, the trailers would come <i>after</i> a movie. Makes sense. And isn't it cool to finally understand the meaning of what a B-movie is?<br />
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So now onto the business of promoting myself as a movie-trailer producer extraordinaire, I will let you enjoy these phenomenal pieces of art, created with the help of iMovie, some amazing footage and my iPad. FYI, Each trailer took about 10 man-hours to put together <br />
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I created this from some video I captured on a family vacation in Tennesee...<br />
Just finished the full movie as a Christmas present to the family. Hope you guys watched it. <br />
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This one captures the two days of anticipation as we waited for our son Jack to be born.<br />
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This one I worked on as a project for a friend that didn't end up working out but was fun none the less. (I hope he doesn't mind that I post this)<br />
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I hope you enjoyed this month's Polar Bear Periodical.<br />
And speaking of movies, I would like to make some recommendations.<br />
1. Argo - Because we need to know what went down and Ben Affleck did an amazing job telling this story and letting the cat out of the bag. My favorite part: John Goodman's and Alan Arkin's characters are a great glimpse into classic show business and what made the silver screen, the silver screen. <br />
2. The Iron Lady - Because Meryl Streep IS Margaret Thatcher and growing old isn't easy especially when you changed the world. My Favorite Part: watching Meryl Streep act<br />
3. Abduction - Because it's not at all what you are expecting. My Favorite Part: Not knowing what to expect.<br />
<br />Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-81247552703420311162012-10-31T15:58:00.001-04:002012-10-31T16:08:33.366-04:00The Night MowerJust as the last blip of the sun flashed beyond the horizon, I think it will be a good time to take my dog, Myers, for a walk. <br />
<br />
"Wanna go on a walk?" I ask. This question elicits high-pitched whines and back leg springs that thrust his two front paws forward into my groin.<br />
"OOF!" I wince and snap harshly at him, "GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF!" He chills for a brief second or two. <br />
<br />
"One of these days he'll get old, and I'll miss this," I tell myself. "Hold still."<br />
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I put the leash around his neck and then let the bounciness continue. He doesn't miss a beat, except for the beat I force him to miss trying to fetter him to my wrist. <br />
<br />
Out the door we go, and if I was about 200 lbs lighter it might be a sight to behold. I would be flapping in the wind like a kite behind a little brown dachshund. But me being me and all other things the same, his little efforts to pull me along are as gentle as Kermit the Frog dragging Jabba the Hut. Yet I let the fool dog think his strength is immeasurable and allow myself to be yanked along the twilit road. It's a nice Wednesday evening in October. <br />
<br />
Dusk falls and night looms in the distance. I like walking at night. There's something about knowing you could leer into people's windows from the sidewalk to see what they are watching on TV. This guy's watching Entertainment Tonight. That families watching the news. This woman's knitting while her husband is watching pre-game college football. Such a pleasant neighborhood and I'm such a Peeping-Tom. <br />
<br />
Off in the distance I hear somebody using the waning moments of light to mow his lawn. I look at the sky and judge that he had about ten minutes before he starts to look ridiculous. The mowing becomes louder the further I walk, and I realize I'm gonna walk right by his house at the same time that Myers will probably be ready to do his business. Then terror strikes as one final realization hits. I don't have a little plastic baggie. <br />
<br />
As I get closer to the night mower, I notice that he's got a good thirty minutes to go before he's finished. He's a medium-sized man, largely unnoticeable in any other situation but getting all my attention tonight. He pushes his loud rumbling mower in silence while wearing a ragged T-shirt with a large emblem on the front and some oil-stained shorts. Evidently a hard working man. I feel for him because he probably had a huge honey-do list, and there wasn't enough time in the day to get done what he wanted to get done, so he squeezes every last bit of light into those grassy lanes he was carefully trying to mow. <br />
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Up until this time Myers was all over the road and in front yards sniffing like a bloodhound. I calmly reign him in so that he won't get on the night mowers yard silently begging him not to place his squatting rear any where near this man's yard. You just never know how people are going to react when they see a little wiener-dog all over their freshly mowed yard. Some are okay with it, but I've been yelled out before. With Myers securely by my side wondering why I was suddenly being so rigid with him, I look up at the night mower as I pass. I was planning on giving him a nod as I walked by, but when our eyes meet he looks back down very quickly, and we pass like two ships in the night, one of them with a loud rumbling engine room below deck scaring fish for miles around and the other being pulled by a rambunctious little Vienna sausage. <br />
<br />
I think the encounter is over and walk on. However, thanks to the audio phenomenon of the Doppler Effect I notice out of the corner of my ear that he has stopped pushing his mower. I turn around, keeping my pace, and he's just standing there with the engine roaring and the blades turning. He's standing by the edge of his drive way just staring at me. Or at least I think he's staring. It's too dark to tell for sure. I keep walking holding the leash tight. Myers is oblivious to the interesting development. <br />
<br />
The night mower's property is right at a bend in the road so I round the corner and give him one more look to see what he's up too and he's still standing there, either looking at me or stuck in some lawn-mowing trance. Lawn-mowing trances are a rare occurance, but not entirely inexplicable. I'm not going to explain it right now, but I will say that I have experienced it with a weed-wacker. It's a unique bonding experience that only occurs with lawn equipment. It has something to do with rhythm and power indexes, but like I said I'm not going into it right now. <br />
<br />
"Interesting," I say to myself as I try to sneak another look. It's too late though, I'd rounded the corner and the night mower was out my line of sight. The Doppler Effect isn't helpful either so I pass it off as nothing, thankful that Myers wasn't overcome by his digestive influences. Now it wouldn't make much of a difference. His bowels were free to unleash themselves. <br />
<br />
The street lights wake up all bright and bushy-tailed. A bunch of meaningless drivel flows around in my brain for the next couple of minutes, and I soak in the waning moments of light. The sound of the rumbling mower is lost in the distance. I give Myers some slack, and he's off like a bloodhound again. <br />
Suddenly, Out of the corner of my ear I hear someone faintly yelling. I stop underneath the incandescent shine of the street light directly above me and turn around. I shade my eyes from the beam over my head, and Myers looks up at me. <br />
<br />
"What the...?" I utter. <br />
<br />
It's the night mower yelling at me from the corner of his property at the bend in the road. He's shaking his hand in the air, or is that a fist. It better not be a fist; I'm bigger than he is. "What in the world?" I hear myself say. <br />
<br />
He keeps yelling.<br />
<br />
I yell back, "Say, again!" I feel my pockets to see if I've dropped my phone or wallet or something, knowingly giving the yelling man the benefit of the doubt. The houses in the neighborhood rest calmly in the darkness to either side of me and my dog as I stand in a orangish pool of light peering at somebody several hundred feet away trying to get my attention. <br />
<br />
I notice something. I'm getting slightly appalled. Only slightly because of the absurdity and possible misinterpretation of my situation. After much delibertation between my rational and irrational self, I come to the conclusion that I should walk towards the yelling night mower, mainly because he's still yelling. I turn my impatient dog around and walk towards the man aware of my growing anger and hope for confrontation. Myers walks with me. <br />
<br />
I guess I look small from far away, because as soon I start walking towards him, the man disappears around the corner. It takes me a good minute or so to get back to where the man was and as soon as I round the corner there he is calmly pushing his mower with his back toward me only a few feet away. I turn around looking for a Candid Camera van or an audience hiding behind a tree or something. I stand there glaring at him allowing the ferocity within me to attain full power. It had become obvious to me that I hadn't dropped my phone. <br />
<br />
Now here is a dilemna. I think to myself, "How do I get his attention?" as if he doesn't know I'm there. I could see him "non-chalantly" looking over his shoulder like he was curious about the weather behind him. My anger grows as I'm being ignored, and I ponder all my options. I decide to stare. <br />
<br />
I stare blankly at the night mower for a few seconds, thinking about what I should do and wait for him to turn around and recognize me. He never turns around. I have a feeling if I stay there forever he would have been pushing his mower away from me, forever. I didn't feel like standing around forever so I go back to walking my little bloodhound.<br />
<br />
The whole rest of the walk, I was looking over my shoulder to see if he was yelling somewhere behind me. Nothing. <br />
<br />
"Crazy old man," I say to myself. <br />
<br />
I finally get back to my house. And no sooner than I shut the door behind me and take Myers's leash off, I hear the doorbell ring. Myers starts yapping as if he was Godzilla. I jump, or rather vault to the closest wall looking at the door. Someone on the other side knocks with impatience. I jump again but this time towards the door, sick of being startled. The thought occurs to me that it could be a friend or even some boy peddling stuff for a school fund raiser. I'm a sucker for those amatuer business men because I was a door to door salesman once. I usually end up buying a candle, some peanut brittle, or some dog biscuits. Then another thought occurs to me, and I open the door.<br />
<br />
The door creaks that inevitable creak and our eyes meet for the second time through the dirty glass of my storm door. This time he does not look away. The night mower has found my house. The suddenness of the anger that wells up inside me is a tell-tale sign of how scared I really am. The anger was just a front. His eyes are red, and the sweat is dripping from his brow. He doesn't look happy. He is wearing the same scruffy clothes, loose t-shirt with an emblem of an eagle on the front and some oil-stained shorts. His shoes and socks are covered with grass stains. Myers yaps turn into growls as the man outside and I stare at each other through the glass. A small movement of his hand catches my eye. He is reaching for the storm door handle. <br />
<br />
When I see his hand moving for the door handle, I wish for a castle moat to suddenly drop between us, but it does not. There is only this one thin pane of glass between this unpredictable character and me. A couple things go through my head. First, "I bet he didn't finish cutting the grass," then, "I better lock this door before this freak comes into my house." I reach for the lock, and fortunately, get there before him. He freezes with his hand in mid air, as if he had hoped I would lock the door before he could open it, like he didn't want to do something he was about to do. The frozen hand freaks me out, and I suddenly realize I had two more doors and ten windows in my house. <br />
<br />
However, it was more important to me to keep this head job in my sight than try to scramble around the house locking doors and windows. We both just stand there. My dog was going crazy now, barking like he was rabid, but that's just what I wanted. I begin wishing I had taught him to "sick" people. You know like the dogs do in the movies. Hey, for all I know it's not something I probably have to teach him. Maybe he is ready to "sick" that little night mower. But then again maybe he'll scamper to a fire hydrant and mark his territory. I continue to stare at him and he switches his gaze back and forth from me to the dog. <br />
<br />
Just when I was about to start barking myself he says, "You stole my flowers."<br />
<br />
"What flowers?" I am still locked on his eyes.<br />
<br />
"You stole them, and I want 'em back."<br />
<br />
"Go get yourself some new flowers, buddy. You want me to call the cops?"<br />
<br />
He quickly reaches for his back pocket, and I have no idea what to expect. A gun, a knife, a photo of his missing flowers, who knows? I slam the front door and race for the back door. I lock it and race for the side door. I am few feet away from the side door when I see it fling open. He rushes in, eyes wide with some kind of wildness in them. I freeze when I see the long blade in his hand. It actually looks like a rusty old lawn mower blade, no handle or anything just a thin metal bar with sharp edges on the side.<br />
<br />
I wish I can think of something, like how to fight him, or where I keep my gun, or which knife to grab out of the kitchen drawer, but I don't. All I can think is, "Who carry's around a lawnmower blade? This guy is nuts." Myers is still barking. I know he's no match for a lawnmower blade so I try to reach down and pick him up. Crazy, lawnmower-blade man sees his chance and lunges. I see him launch, and I launch myself, only not towards him, to the side, picking up Myers in one move....<br />
<br />
As I dodge to the right the night mower lunges with his knife and misses me by a few inches. I set Myers down and am close enough to the intruder that I can grab his arm but not before he gets a few slices into my forearm. We wrestle for a bit with our limbs flailing about like ballroom dancers in a cage fight.<br />
<br />
I hear Myers whimper as the man takes a swipe at him. He twitches sharply to the right reaching for his leg and yells "Stop that!" He looks down at his leg and I see my chance. <br />
<br />
My adrenaline shoots through the roof with that little stunt and I overpower him. He falls backwards and bumps his head on the coffee table behind him knocking him unconscious. I feel for a pulse, and it is still strong. <br />
<br />
Trying to catch my breath I tell Myers, "I guess he'll live." He growls favoring one of his legs. I go for the phone in the kitchen and dial 911. I tell the operator everything and she asks me if he is still there. <br />
<br />
"Yes, He's unconscious though..." I say as I turn to look at him. "....He's gone…" I say something hysterical after that because all the operator can talk about is getting me to calm down. "He was here a few seconds ago, he couldn't have gotten far." I drop the phone in the pool of blood left by the gaping wounds in my arm and run outside. No one.<br />
<br />
"That's okay, I know where he lives." I start running as fast as I can to catch him before he gets to his house, leaving Myers in the backyard to tend to his wounds... It is dark so I can't see much except for what the street lights illuminate. <br />
<br />
I finally get to the night mower's house. "I guess you forgot I knew where you lived, Lawnmower Man," I say to myself as I walk up the front steps imagining a comic book frame of me avenging my poor dog. I examine the house for a few seconds until I am sure it is the same house. It is on the corner, same front porch, same shutters. Yep this is it. I knock on the door. <br />
<br />
A generously-proportioned old lady answers the door. "Yes?" she says as she smiles warily at me. <br />
<br />
I must be scaring her. I'm sure my eyes are wide with adrenaline, my fists clenched ready to clock the one answering the door. I am stunned by this innocent old lady. <br />
<br />
"Can I help you?" She says. <br />
<br />
"Um…Yes, is your husband home?" <br />
<br />
"He doesn't live here anymore."<br />
<br />
I step back. "Who was it that cut your grass earlier this evening?<br />
<br />
"What do you mean?" She asks. <br />
<br />
"Who cut your grass," I say with a twinge of frustration. I use my bloody arm and point as I say it again. As I point I look at the front yard lit by a bright street lamp. The grass is practically up to my waist. Obviously, I think this extremely odd or I've found the wrong house. I take a step back and look at the house again. This has to be the house.<br />
<br />
I stand there on the front porch like a bafoon and tell her about the man in my house and almost being killed and everything, and she does what any grandmother would do and invites me to sit down while she tries to take care of my wounds. I oblige and take a seat on a nice chair in the living room, careful not to get any blood on anything, all the while trying to figure out what's going on and where Lawnmower Man may be hiding. She says something about finding some cotton swabs and some peroxide and is off down the hall. <br />
<br />
I observe my surroundings. A nice place, a bit musty with useless trinkets lying around, but nice. A little too pink for my taste, though. There are a few bookshelves and a mantle with some candles on it. In the corner is an upright piano with a few pictures on it. Something catches my eye in the pictures so I get up to take a closer look. <br />
<br />
There he is, the night mower in the pictures! The old lady comes around the corner carrying a whole mess of things that look like lawn tools. "What's that, what have you got? Who's this man?" I urgently ask pointing to the pictures and inching backward. <br />
<br />
"That's my husband."<br />
<br />
"What? Where is he now? I thought you said he didn't live here anymore. This is the man! This is the man!"<br />
<br />
"That can't be sir," She says with resilience. "My husband died." Something fills her voice, but it wasn't sorrow. "Exactly, ten years ago, today." <br />
<br />
I shake my head in disbelief. No, this can't be. I pinch myself. I slowly back out of the living room into the foyer knocking over a few useless trinkets as I bump into the front door, my eye on the old woman the entire time. I feet for the handle, open it and bolt for my house, hoping to find my dog safe and sound somewhere. <br />
<br />
My dog is chewing on a chew toy in the back yard. He is so into his chew toy he almost doesn't notice me. When he finally sees me walking up the driveway he jumps up leaving his chew toy to greet me. I warily pet him peering into the darkness for anything out of the ordinary. Once the introductions are complete he brings his chew toy over to me. It is a rather large bone. Just as I am getting ready to throw the unusually large bone, something caught my attention in the flower bed. There is a big pile of dirt and the flowers are all uprooted. Must be where Myers buries his toys. I walk over to it and notice he had buried a few other bones there. "How many bones have you buried here," I joke. I start digging. Wait a second... Before I new it a police car pulls up in my drive way at the same time I was uncovering the skeletal remains of a human being. <br />
<br />
"Are you okay, sir? We got a 911 emergency call from this location." The policeman walks up and sees what I just discovered and immediately pulls a gun on me and tells me to get down on the ground. <br />
<br />
He cuffs me and sits me in his cruiser with a towel to finish cleaning up my bleeding arm. A few other cops get there, and I watch from the police car as my house becomes a crime scene. After a few hours of waiting and wondering if they will ever take me in, I notice that nosey neighbors are pouring out of their houses. <br />
<br />
A dozen more cop cars arrive and the cop that cuffed me comes back and asks me a few questions about who I am, but his last question seemed funny to me. He asks me if I know who was buried in my flower bed. <br />
<br />
Just as I was getting ready to say, "No," I see a patrol car drive by with the generously-proportioned old woman in the backseat, her angry red eyes staring at me from the window of the police car. <br />
<br />
Then it dawns on me. It's the Night Mower! <br />
<br />
"Is it her husband buried in my flower bed?" I ask.<br />
<br />
"Sure is," he says confidently. "She killed her husband ten years ago but we were never able to pin it on her because we couldn't find the body. Thanks to your dog we found him. The icing on the cake is that he was buried with the murder weapon...a rusty old lawnmower blade."<br />
<br />Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-73203702465584210242012-10-24T12:53:00.000-04:002012-10-26T14:58:43.767-04:00Text Message Shorthand and It's Effect on the Thumb and the English LanguageI don't know if you noticed or not, but the Polar Bear Periodical has been seriously lacking in blog contributions during the month of September and October. Finding time in a day that only has 24 hours is extremely hard for a polar bear that requires, food, hibernation, and a thought provoking daily contribution to social networking. So in the interest of saving time and avoiding any real responsibilities in my life, I've decided to take a closer look into shorthand, specifically in regards to thumb-thumpin' chain texters.<br />
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Seeing as how the thumb is the ugly fat guy of all the fingers, it seems fitting that it would be the reason that we've come up with txt msg shorthand. Mr. Thumb has been living a life of social rejection ever since humans stopped climbing trees and holding hammers. No more thumb-sucking; that will give
you bucked teeth. No more thumbing for a ride; that could give you some
guy with bucked teeth that kills you. No more thumb-wrestling and
certainly no more twiddling of the thumbs. Just about the only things
left for a digitally and socially outcast thumb to do is to turn your
music up and to send quick text messages. The other sexy fingers could dance on the keyboards of our lives, touch-typin' through news feeds, email's and digital diaries like Doogie Howser M.D. But the low-slung thumb digit says, "Use me, Use me. Quit letting me dangle here in the tiny fob pocket of your skinny jeans. I'm filled with texterity, I want to be textually active. I promise I won't give you texter's remorse, just good ole fashioned textertainment."<br />
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We'll we've been in such a hurry to send our text message we have not realized what it's been doing to our English language. LMAO, LOL, BRB... Text message shorthand reigns in the cellular airwaves and summons the peasants of sentence structure to bow before it's emoticon throne. As our thumbs have gained prominence in "shorthand legislation" the language rules have evolved quicker than Cortisol into belly fat.<br />
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Apparently, a mobile phone service in Britain has given text message shorthand a big boost in language development by saying that is useful in learning classic literature. Classic literature? "How dare you?!" says the writer. "Un-freakin'-believable. First, electric wheelchairs for the elderly, and now this? What is this nation coming to." Believe it or not, Dot Mobile is attempting to translate classic works of literature into abbreviated SMS text messages. "Romeo, Romeo, Wher4 RT Thou Romeo!"<br />
They have researched this avenue of ad campaigning immensely and even have an English professor in their corner named John Sutherland, who says that it could act as a useful memory aid for students who want to learn the classics by helping them "filet out the important elements in a plot." Take a look at some of these traumatizing translations.<br />
<br />
Hamlet's famous soliloquy, "To be or not to be, that is the question," becomes "2b? Nt2b? ???"<br />
John Milton's epic poem, <i>Paradise Lost</i>, begins, "devl kikd outa hevn
coz jelus of jesus&strts war." (The devil is kicked out of heaven
because he is jealous of Jesus and starts a war.)<br />
The ending to <i>Jane Eyre</i> — "MadwyfSetsFyr2Haus." (Mad wife sets fire to house.)<br />
Jane Austen's description of Mr. Darcy in <i>Pride and Prejudice</i> becomes "fit&loadd" (handsome and wealthy).<br />
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BTW, As you may have imagined there are naysayers. Author and political commentator Oliver Kamm reminds us that classic literature is more than just plot. "What you lose with text messaging in literature is what makes literature what it is — the imagery, the irony the nuance." He considers this project "a travesty."<br />
<br />
A project like this will obviously have to be headed up by the thumb. You can't very well use text message shorthand without the thumb. The long sexy fingers won't stoop to type out such crap. Therefore news of this travesty have thumbs everywhere registering for concealed weapons permits or jumping from 15th floor apartment windows.<br />
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Here's my thought. Text message shorthand, has it's uses but it isn't to teach classic literature. It does save time and actually exercises that puzzle solving part of our brain. Who needs crossword puzzles when we have, "WDYMBT". I for one do not stand by a classic work of literature being thumbed out on a tiny keyboard somewhere in the back alleys of Liverpool, but I do appreciate a little time saving note or two when things are crazy so I don't have to deal with the menial task of actually talking to someone on the phone. What a bore!<br />
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One bright note in the midst of all this text purgatory is Autocorrect. Autocorrect? Yes, Autocorrect. As well as provide hours of entertainment on the internet, reading embarrassing textersations, Autocorrect is also doing a lot to bring us out of the dark ages of text message shorthand. It will actually complete words for us (whether we want it to or not) turning a letter or two into a possible suggestion for what you want to say. It's a writer's dream! Genius! Unfortunately, the autocorrect dictionary includes some text message shorthand which kind of defeats the purpose, but it's a step in the right direction.<br />
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We live in an age where fast and tiny nanotechnology keep us moving like kids without Ritalin. As a result we cut things short only reading half of the email or yearly Christmas card update and responding with such brevity that God can't even figure out what we mean. Stop it. Take a moment in your crazy life to soak in a few extra words a day. Perhaps consider a punctuation mark or two in your text message to help clarify. It might take an extra few seconds out of your day but you and the English language will be better off for it. So thank you for reading this blog in it's entirety and feel free to leave a comment with some ridiculous text message short hand.<br />
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<br />Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-23412452370823434882012-09-05T13:02:00.002-04:002013-02-08T12:02:59.617-05:00Put a Fork in America...We're Done! Now for the Beer.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Pro-life, anti-death, pro-gay, anti-homophobes, pro-choice, anti-prophylactics. Isn't it tiring? Keeping up with the policy in today's calculated sound bite releases is exhausting. All the smoke and mirrors and snips and snails and puppy dog tails are really starting to weigh me down. Republicans lying about Democrats and the Democrats...well, just, basically, lying about. I've had it up to here! Where's here? ...My liver.<br />
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After taking a good look at all the issues, I've decided to jump on the Obama band wagon because I've realized that he has finally figured it ALL out, and he's ready to share it with us. As the <a href="http://www.gop.com/meet-americas-comeback-team/">RNC</a> cleans up it's hate culture and legitimate rapists, and the Democrats gain momentum during their <a href="http://www.demconvention.com/">DNC</a> tom-foolery and hetero-phobic baby-killing, the campaign wizards in the White House have been strategically planning a bombshell release that will shake the political foundations of the country to it's core: the recipe of the White House Honey Brown Ale. <br />
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That's right. The White House staff have put aside the menial tasks of silly wars and financial instability to bring us unmatchable perfection in the world of beer drinking. What a relief that our President, Barack Obama, is actually getting things done around this poor excuse for a country. I think he finally realized that he could only ride the I-killed-Osama-Bin-Laden train for so long. Eventually he had to get back to the grindstone at Pennsylvania Avenue and focus on the serious issues, like how much barley and hops it takes to wash away the taste of cigarettes on his taste buds.<br />
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History was made and the cry of the working class was answered with a recipe that called for a little light malt extract, amber crystal malt, honey,
gypsum, yeast and corn sugar. Move over Mountain Dew because we can now brew the brew of all brews in our
own bathtubs. Thank you, Mr. President. You made this possible.<br />
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Beer drinking had hit a wall in this country with all the bitter hops and unpredictable yeast build-ups. All the beer in the world was no match for the tingling sensation of the old favorite Mountain Dew that ruined the teeth of abusive personalities everywhere. But now a new age has come, and we, the American drinker, will never be the same. With this feat, President Obama has surely
sealed himself in the halls of fame as the Greatest President in the
Multiverse. White House Honey Brown Ale is believed to be the only beer
ever brewed on the White House grounds. (Martin Van Buren gets the nod
for distilling the first jug of whiskey in the White House.) God's
favor must surely rest on him for such a remarkable gesture of
getting-things-done in a country so riddled with holes of hate and
intolerance. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6B_Rwf2DbnDuJGuZUTW19m0GZN0MlTrCRO1iNPQaiIzmT3205KaJpsViyt1zCkfIXsMXFINmKCiFyzHJJu1xyA2zOjbWOcH4i3CZqDoGyVcuHoyx2p4qZQPx65ULZavnx6xZGTJBLel4/s1600/st-patricks-day-whitehouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6B_Rwf2DbnDuJGuZUTW19m0GZN0MlTrCRO1iNPQaiIzmT3205KaJpsViyt1zCkfIXsMXFINmKCiFyzHJJu1xyA2zOjbWOcH4i3CZqDoGyVcuHoyx2p4qZQPx65ULZavnx6xZGTJBLel4/s320/st-patricks-day-whitehouse.jpg" width="320" /></a>Believe me, this history making event didn't just wash up on the shores of the White House like flotsam and jetsam. The administration had been looking for ways to get an edge on their white collar opponents for hours. After many failed attempts to win the hearts of the American people
including a White House fountain filled with green food coloring on St.
Patrick's Day and a few appearances on Late Night TV, the idea of beer
frothed through the West Wing. Brainstorm sessions ensued at cabinet
meetings and brew-ha-has, and the idea was born. But it needed a
catalyst, something to get the beer out of the barrels and into the
hearts of the voting public. That catalyst came about through the most
history changing event in alcoholic history-changing history.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQcAgDmGn_5T-mYjTnmQyxBO_DqKAmcF1HFSEvwpqHDZQyMmtbpItgGlnLTCk0F-o4sxAisnt4b5cmfLOksXkkk1Y70O-nvS1RN8Sgmn4snm-am-V5DWNfdvV0KqD7ZMA8buNaIuOQCXc/s1600/obama_i.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQcAgDmGn_5T-mYjTnmQyxBO_DqKAmcF1HFSEvwpqHDZQyMmtbpItgGlnLTCk0F-o4sxAisnt4b5cmfLOksXkkk1Y70O-nvS1RN8Sgmn4snm-am-V5DWNfdvV0KqD7ZMA8buNaIuOQCXc/s320/obama_i.jpeg" width="320" /></a>In a genius attempt to quell racial tensions around the world, Obama and
Biden invited a Harvard professor and a police sergeant over for a beer.
This event took advantage of Obama's lifetime of beer drinking and made
the first dent in erasing racism in America since Abraham Lincoln
screwed it all up at the end of the civil war by getting shot in the
back of the head during some ridiculous movie premiere or something.
Stupid Lincoln.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4tGwizeuMPnf3uUkop0lrOtIstcBkfL5J_KGL_QaSp6NnAVJIW2EIJKAEPlTeqTTs-TA9FLROTvhy1eFjU9r1XRWFSbKP0BlNoL5GHyec-0JGWaYmwzHvW93ILODJWJQtbtsLF3wQTiI/s1600/obama_a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="124" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4tGwizeuMPnf3uUkop0lrOtIstcBkfL5J_KGL_QaSp6NnAVJIW2EIJKAEPlTeqTTs-TA9FLROTvhy1eFjU9r1XRWFSbKP0BlNoL5GHyec-0JGWaYmwzHvW93ILODJWJQtbtsLF3wQTiI/s200/obama_a.jpg" width="200" /></a>That minature beer fest or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Louis_Gates_arrest_controversy">"Beer Summit"</a>
as it was aptly named was the impetus he needed for a winner-take-all
campaign for beer. The commission began and has finally culminated this past week with the unprecedented press release of the recipe for Obama's White House Honey Brown Ale. (<a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2012/09/01/ale-chief-white-house-beer-recipe">Click here if you would like this recipe</a>.) It is the answer to life, the universe, and everything. And it's clear that Obama's strategists have been working night and day since our political messiah graced us with his prompter reading skills and mesmerized us with his natural swagger from the Presidential helicopter. (Yep, that's right; he's the real deal, folks.)<br />
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And now we must wait until the rest of America jumps "off the wagon"... and then onto the Obama Beer Wagon. There is still a lot of room on this
"wagon" for white working class adulterers, Irish-loving black people,
Monastical friars, and reformed pot-heads.<br />
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To the Mexican immigrant mother that just found out her 16-year-old girl was pregnant: Beer is the Answer.<br />
To the bankrupt business owner that broke his foot jumping out of his third story window because he couldn't pay a health premium for his employees: Beer is the Answer. <br />
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To the elderly man whose social security is only going to be available for 2 more hours because the Senators just approved another raise for themselves: Beer is the Answer. <br />
To the child who got busted for reprogramming the DVR so his parents wouldn't catch him watching "Family Guy" on Fox: Beer is the Answer.<br />
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I seriously can't imagine where we'd be in this country without beer. Maybe our Episcopalian friends would be as intolerant as the rest of the clergy. Maybe our roads and infrastructure would actually make sense. Maybe Bear Grylls would stop drinking the moisture from elephant feces. Only God knows, but I do know this...*Mitt Romney is a Mormon, doesn't drink and favors multiple wives, so how in the world would he get anything done for beer drinkers. <br />
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*Note: Lies?? Truths?? Sarcasm?? Hyperbole?? What's the difference?<br />
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Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-31250254567050774132012-08-22T15:30:00.003-04:002013-02-08T11:55:19.287-05:00The Gentlemen of the Road<div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
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My head doesn't get stuck in the clouds too often, but once in a while it does. It happens when I least expect it. I'll be hooked on a good television show halfway through the season, and I'll start to mentally immerse myself in the story looking forward to every episode. The next thing you know, I've signed up to bring Tostino's pizza rolls and some grape soda to a gathering of like minded souls to watch the season finale. The build up to a new movie sometimes gets me too. I build my entire summer around the release date of some movie. Then I show up hours early to the premier with a tent and 42 bags of Twizzlers.<br />
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I'm embarrassed to say that it happened again, just a few weeks ago. A band called Mumford and Sons was coming to town to play their second show of their North American tour, and I got tickets to go with 3 of my bestest mates. I was in the ether. I was as giddy as a Canadian school girl at a Robert Pattinson autograph signing; you couldn't have given me enough Lorazepam. Tickets were more difficult to score than I expected, but once I had them, I was floating with the angels. A week before the show I was getting a bit cheeky. I spent hours on-line reading about what their live shows are like, missed appointments at work, emailed the lead singer's parents in the United Kingdom, and tried to figure out a way to become a groupie AND keep my family. The premotor cortex of my brain was peeking with excitatory signals because of the anticipation I was experiencing.<br />
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Believe me, when I say that I knew my expectations were high, and I didn't care. I knew Mumford and Sons would deliver, and I was absolutely right. They delivered like a Federal Express Broadway musical. Mumford and Sons brought the frequency of life and truth to their show, and I soaked it in like a dankish sponge. Their songs are full of passion and heartache, faith and doubt, life and death. I told someone it was like being at a rally for God and humanity to work together to defeat darkness.<br />
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For each song, each band member plays a different instrument, including but not limited to an accordion, a mandolin, a banjo and an upright bass. At certain intervals during their set, the four part harmonies they found sent my joy meter to overload and made my cheeks tired. I was brimming with euphoria the entire time. During one of the transitions a member of the band gave the crowd a good chortle when he joked about southern Americans being from South America, which makes perfect sense if your from Britain. I was happy when they eventually got back to the music, which is, by far, their best feature. <br />
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The bluegrass, folk, pop and rock genre can't agree on where to place the style of music that Mumford and Sons plays. They cover everything from a head-banging mosh pit in one song to a soothing bluegrass ballad of love in another. The confusion is just, thus they've been dubbed West London Folk. Guess that's a half win for folk, and a kick in the knickers for everyone else. But first and foremost, Mumford and Sons is a festival band. That is where
their roots are and throughout their tour they've scheduled festival
"stopovers" to remind them of their first love. It is this
characteristic that has given them the nickname, Gentlemen of the Road.
You can see a documentary of their travels on <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gW35oPXWd_Q&feature=plcp">Youtube.com</a>. <br />
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Meet the Gentlemen of the Road: <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ6gDqbUxdgjci8g5oXL4ubPh6Nq7E2yroo5yIcdAGK85wakr0w4mJr5CTPpTPStArd26N1agwfXPBPtZMhOFjezBgnFpbUy5sNzz3hC2ED7GOHR_47Ipp2ibXOXyqGMU6Pg48Dwj4wvw/s1600/marcus_mumford_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ6gDqbUxdgjci8g5oXL4ubPh6Nq7E2yroo5yIcdAGK85wakr0w4mJr5CTPpTPStArd26N1agwfXPBPtZMhOFjezBgnFpbUy5sNzz3hC2ED7GOHR_47Ipp2ibXOXyqGMU6Pg48Dwj4wvw/s200/marcus_mumford_3.jpg" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marcus Mumford: Vocals, Guitar, Drums, Mandolin, </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL6Xos7Mop8hu-bHbEaP0VhrUo849Btlx5eRG386Mun6c6FlKAFLWj4mL8FWmk5aMu2Y6RTWLuwN2_dMS59xXnHShJzyGMpUGPBbZAxiloLm3OBt_H0k_H0kB-2ywcY2oDZ6agHh2ThKU/s1600/Benlovett.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL6Xos7Mop8hu-bHbEaP0VhrUo849Btlx5eRG386Mun6c6FlKAFLWj4mL8FWmk5aMu2Y6RTWLuwN2_dMS59xXnHShJzyGMpUGPBbZAxiloLm3OBt_H0k_H0kB-2ywcY2oDZ6agHh2ThKU/s200/Benlovett.jpg" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ben Lovett: Vocals, Keyboards, Accordian, Drums</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhLWaiU8MhQ6sYUyfQo8uMcB8thimSL6qOy9s__5q0ExzHLPo0sANFtF1KYr-C83TL3q51EGCLLXJmQ_DPogXKcIcg5QrvfxGZFYwXegeOKX9swjioF5ZaiRVP0kDKedeyCE5HyRparSY/s1600/countrywinstonmarshal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhLWaiU8MhQ6sYUyfQo8uMcB8thimSL6qOy9s__5q0ExzHLPo0sANFtF1KYr-C83TL3q51EGCLLXJmQ_DPogXKcIcg5QrvfxGZFYwXegeOKX9swjioF5ZaiRVP0kDKedeyCE5HyRparSY/s200/countrywinstonmarshal.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Country Winston Marshall: Vocals, Banjo, Dobro, Guitar</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxT8Yb2PeI4GOXxpfWn29xLvSUjW9uUTlcUyyi1wpqNPJvXpbgcF_F3NWZo05SXTo48mMcDlG_KAanRVseliW9JSp29oHv3rDNCuny5ZU3KiItw0L5J32dpDI9SCUJWw4jBMjYvKA4Xu8/s1600/ted+dwane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxT8Yb2PeI4GOXxpfWn29xLvSUjW9uUTlcUyyi1wpqNPJvXpbgcF_F3NWZo05SXTo48mMcDlG_KAanRVseliW9JSp29oHv3rDNCuny5ZU3KiItw0L5J32dpDI9SCUJWw4jBMjYvKA4Xu8/s200/ted+dwane.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ted Dwane: Vocals, String Bass, Drums, Guitar</td></tr>
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As many of you are probably wondering the concert did have an ending, but it was the coolest ending ever, they came back and did a five song encore, thanked each of us collectively for coming, told us we were the best audience they had ever played for, and gave us each a business card with their personal cell phone numbers and email addresses along with a spare key to their houses in London with directions on how to take care of their fish tanks and guinea pigs while they are on tour. Best band ever.<br />
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You may scoff when you hear this, but I would like to postulate the possibility that this band has the potential to become synonymous with other long lasting superpower bands like U2, the Beatles, Michael Jackson, or Madonna. They're music stands the test of time and the cohesion between the band members could withstand the worst that the music business might have to throw at them. <br />
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Cheers to the Gentlemen of the Road.<br />
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<iframe bordercolor="#000000" frameborder="0" height="250" hspace="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://ad.doubleclick.net/adi/N7433.148119.BLOGGEREN/B6675004.122571;sz=300x250;ord=[timestamp]?;lid=41000613802463762;pid=UBM892038002619;usg=AFHzDLuv-qVZQNfI6F1MYtZXpuYoH5PY3w;adurl=http%253A%252F%252Fwww.cdsbooksdvds.com%252Fproduct.jhtm%253Fsku%253DUBM892038002619;pubid=619866;price=%2417.59;title=BABEL+BY+MUMFORD+%26+SONS+%28CD%29;merc=CDS+Books+and+DVDS;imgsrc=http%3A%2F%2Fc376418.r18.cf1.rackcdn.com%2F892038002619.jpg;width=135;height=135" vspace="0" width="300"></iframe> <iframe bordercolor="#000000" frameborder="0" height="250" hspace="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://ad.doubleclick.net/adi/N7433.148119.BLOGGEREN/B6675004.122574;sz=300x250;ord=[timestamp]?;lid=41000613802463762;pid=UBM892038002237;usg=AFHzDLsW1AxSjgdmUHhEn7ls1ey6jMMTYQ;adurl=http%253A%252F%252Fwww.cdsbooksdvds.com%252Fproduct.jhtm%253Fsku%253DUBM892038002237;pubid=619866;price=%2417.00;title=SIGH+NO+MORE+BY+MUMFORD+%26+SONS+%28CD%29;merc=CDS+Books+and+DVDS;imgsrc=http%3A%2F%2Fc376036.r36.cf1.rackcdn.com%2F892038002237.jpg;width=135;height=135" vspace="0" width="300"></iframe>Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-58963326449323563742012-08-08T14:48:00.002-04:002012-08-08T15:24:49.009-04:00Dear NBC, I Don't Want to Watch the Loser Cry, or Do I?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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NBC should launch a network where they feature only the crying dejected losers who fall flat on their faces. Then Bob Costas could do sarcastic voice overs about how awesome it must
be to train so hard for 14 years just to see it all go down the
toilet in a whirlpool of athletic genius. Before a long agonizing failure they could tell us heart-freezing stories about the families of the athletes getting homes foreclosed on or falling victim to ponzi schemes. Ratings would sky-rocket, wouldn't they? <br />
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Apparently, "someone" likes to watch that stuff because they scramble the cameramen like house flies to a dirty bum. And that "someone" must be the one buying all the ad space, because NBC strives for the money shot, complete with streaming tears of embarrassment and failure. <br />
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Congratulations, NBC, for testing the waters of "cry-definition" television by letting us watch athletes like Jordyn Wieber or Liu Xiang shed sweet dramatic tears of despair. Hopes and dreams come to a crashing halt and NBC goes for complete coverage of... the loser. Now all you have to do is supplement this new emo programming with advertisements for depression medication and suicide hotlines. <br />
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Or, how 'bout this idea: maybe you could GIVE THEM A MOMENT! Isn't there a "winner" sauntering about the arena that you could feature? I think there is. Do that.<br />
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And that's all I have to say about that.Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-20154087257049785992012-08-01T22:31:00.000-04:002012-08-07T10:43:04.516-04:00Life in Overdrive<br />
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Toby Keith came to Virginia Beach, and I was one of the lucky hillbillies in the front row, or "pit", as it is affectionately known. Allow me to set the stage for those unfamiliar with the goings-on at a genuine Toby Keith concert. The venue was outside, and it just happened to be the hottest evening of the summer. Not to worry, I was surrounded by many other people suffering from the same summer heat, so we were able to keep each other warm.<br />
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To start things off, I'm so thankful we got to our standing positions in the pit early enough to catch the Ford commercial that started the show. It was like being at a drive in movie, you know, the nostalgia of it all. A giant white sheet was strategically hung in front of the stage so no one would miss it. A projector mounted 100 feet away gave all 20,000 of us a larger than life perspective of what it's like to be Toby Keith driving a Ford F-150. It was glorious. There he was before us, Toby Keith, in a commercial driving a truck on a gianormous sheet hanging down before our very eyes. I know what your thinking, Ford commercials are available at home in our living rooms on the TV, but this... this was special. Apparently, if you drive a brand new Ford F-150, several really cool things happen to you. You meet beautiful, sweaty, half-naked women sucking on popsicles. Dirty, empty bars suddenly spring to life when you plug in the juke box. Somehow desert roads become oases, and fame and fortune follow you everywhere. All, from a truck. How cool is that? I'm going to go get me one of those Ford's just as soon as I get a feather in my hat and call it macaroni.<br />
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But the concert wasn't over yet...<br />
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The sheet fell from the heights over our heads, and we stood there like excited villagers sacrificing a virgin before a giant volcano ignorant of the sweaty steam emanating from each of our bodies. Then the live music began with a loud pulse emanating from each instrument. Bodies jumped, sweat flung into my eyes, the lights turned on and the super amazing pyro-technics made me realize I wasn't hot enough. <br />
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Excitement overtook the sensation of having a fever, and I watched and listened while a tired sunburnt old man used the gift of song to tell 20,000 people how amazing they were. As I observed I realized that this was the most patriotic group of people ever. There was a shout out to policemen and firemen, a respect for veterans and politicians, and a long drawn-out video montage of Willy Nelson. I kid you not, an amputee literally threw his fake leg onto the stage for Toby Keith to sign it. And it wasn't any kind of normal fake leg either, it was decorated to the nines with paintings of bald eagles that were draped in American flags. It was one of the most questionably inappropriate things I've ever seen.<br />
<br />
But that was nothing compared to the crowning achievement of the entire show. The climax of a good show is reserved for special subject matter. It's not enough to sing about cowboys and Willy Nelson and Ford trucks. They aren't special enough. Nope, you've got to give the climax to something special. And in this case that "special thing" is the Red Solo Cup that holds your beer. Toby Keith, held up a red solo cup full of some liquid and sang one of the most beautiful ballads ever written. While doing this four stage hands began pumping up giant red solo cup balloons about the size of Ford F-150s. Here are some of the lyrics to this beloved song:<br />
<br />
Red solo cup, I fill you up<br />
Let's have a party, let's have a party<br />
I love you red solo cup, I lift you up,<br />
Proceed to party, proceed to party<br />
...<br />
Now I've seen you in blue and I've seen you in yellow<br />
But only you red will do for this fellow<br />
Cause you are the Abbott into my Costello<br />
And you are the Fruit to my Loom<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/tobykeith/redsolocup.html" target="_blank">For all the lyrics to this beautiful song click here</a><br />
<br />
Now if that isn't just the sweetest thing ever then I don't know what is. It's very catchy and memorable.<br />
<br />
What followed were some sweet guitar licks, a drum solo and few shots of my ugly mug on the big screen, but as you would probably guess it was all down hill after the Red Solo Cup.<br />
<br />
I can tell you with certainty that Toby Keith is a great entertainer; he knows what his fans want and he gives it to them. So what does he give them? A sense of who they are, passionate, patriotic, gun-toting, beer-drinking, nature loving, NASCAR supporting, cowboy boot wearing, Caucasians. I was entertained, and part of me wished I had a pair of cowboy boots. This was my very first country music concert and I would do it all over again, except for the part about leaving early to miss the inevitable parking lot traffic jam. How do you like me now?Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-71280549161742982372012-07-25T07:53:00.001-04:002012-07-25T13:05:56.193-04:00Star of "Dark Knight Rises" Visits Colorado Shooting VictimsCelebrity buzz hasn't favored the Batman star in recent years, but this week he did something that totally redeemed him. Here's a great story for fans of "The Dark Knight" with Associated Press b-roll of the event.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://blog.chron.com/celebritybuzz/2012/07/batman-star-bale-visits-colorado-shooting-survivors-wvideo/" target="_blank">Christian Bale in Colorado</a><br />
<br />
<iframe src='http://widget.newsinc.com/single.html?WID=2&VID=23753443&freewheel=69016&sitesection=sehoustonchron' height='320' width='425' scrolling='no' frameborder='0' marginwidth='0' marginheight='0'></iframe>Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-25929592654244737312012-07-18T23:58:00.000-04:002012-07-23T09:23:12.984-04:00Here We Are Now, Entertain Us (Part 2)<br />
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/107786668147140214964/PolarBearPeriodical?authkey=Gv1sRgCMmutsrf39-8TQ#5766875225092346370" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1CFugytJSLNa_FPG85Rzk64lmouSSKvSnP_MczLHaMJvYGwzn8TwhCsPalwvI52OQa5kfgpzGwQfyBghwC3oXDABrSxNKkFSqCFZf_j_BViyj21AN4OJx_E0l6cKzJc0t12kZi6RBCXQ/s288/1.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a>(In light of the tragedy that took place in Aurora, CO, this blog entry might not sit well with you. Although this blog tries to help us understand tragedy in the literary sense, it doesn't offer any consolation to tragedy in real life. It is unfortunate that we live in a world where tragedy is real, and I offer my sincere condolences to the citizens of Aurora, CO and all those dealing with the consequences of a crazed mad man.)<br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>Hunger Games</i> struck a cord with mainstream America in a way that was like plucking a hair out of a nostril. This was a painful story about an alternate world where kids killed other kids for the entertainment of others, and yet it was one of the highest grossing movies of 2012. Are we just sick, homicidal child-haters with a pension for cage fighting? Is the unstoppable force, that is America, slipping down that proverbial, never-ending Slip 'n Slide into nothingness? I don't believe so. For centuries humanoids have been entertained by a literary device called "catharsis". Some appreciate it others don't, and still others would just as soon strip it naked and drop it off in front of a sketchy bus station. <br />
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"Catharsis" originates from the Greek word for "cleansing" and is defined on dictionary.com as "the purging of emotions or relieving of emotional tensions, especially through certain kinds of art as tragedy or music." Basically, an enema for the soul. One can't have a good tragedy without the element of catharsis so let's explore. Classic Tragedies include Romeo and Juliet, Oedipus Rex, and La Boheme, to name a few. They loved their soul enemas back then, so much so that Leonardo Da Vinci had to fill the world with inventions and paintings of constipated people.</div>
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Modern tragedies are harder to come by and are more commonly referred to as horror movies, but once in a while a mainstream movie will embody the definition of a tragedy like, <i>Into the Wild</i>, <i>The People vs. Larry Flint</i>, or <i>The Butterfly Effect</i>. To get into a story and build up a fortress of emotion only to have your weakness exploited by a director who brings you into an unshakable state of depression for a few hours or even days, is one of the marvels of true artistic genius. A good cathartic moment can go a long way, like that moment when you realize the mountain oysters you've been eating were goat testicles.</div>
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Ultimately, the purpose of a tragedy is to bring healing to the audience. Even psychoanalysts praise catharsis as progress in emotional healing. Emotions are strong and can often lead to horrible decisions, like vengeful flatulation at work, sarcasm on the witness stand, or, God forbid, a tattoo near your nethers. Emotions that lead to these kinds of actions are viewed as excessive and unhealthy by some. A good catharsis can sooth the wild beast in most of us and make our passions slightly more manageable. Wikipedia informs us that particular Freudian psychoanalysts would use catharsis to help patients experience "the deep emotions often associated with events in the individual's past which had originally been repressed or ignored, and had never been adequately addressed or experienced."Some have even gone so far as to say that catharsis is pleasurable, because the audience might experience an ecstatic relief ensuing from an awareness that, compared with what they have just seen portrayed, their own life is less tragic.</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
However, there should be a warning label on overly tragic stories. A person suffering from extreme emotional derangement might careen off into the outer space of excitability and never be normal again. This is the downside of tragedy, and one of the reasons many will not appreciate its artistic quality.</div>
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Another reason is plain, old aesthetics. Just like some prefer not to suffer the woes of the mighty roller coaster, others are physically wired not to enjoy the thrills of a finely woven catharsis. I believe this is part of the reason there was such a strong reaction to the <i>Hunger Games</i>. Rightfully so, the thought of children brutally murdering each other for sport did not sit right with people, no matter what the back story was. </div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
Therefore the redeeming value of such a tragic event is lost, just like the redeeming value of conquering your fears at the end of a roller coaster are lost just by looking at that first drop from your car in the parking lot.</div>
<br />
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I'm not a fan of roller coasters, because they give me vertigo and and a keen sense of impending disaster. On the other hand, I am a fan of tragedies because I love the catharsis that ensues after a good story. I still cringe and wince, but I like cringing and wincing. </div>
<br />
<br />Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-90495039026271981922012-07-11T19:44:00.001-04:002012-07-11T19:44:41.436-04:00Here We Are Now, Entertain Us (Part 1)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdKeElih705Y_WdlZxvfZ3sQRKBJ5jrl7HXb4BuhJ3hmWiJQYS_jcN4t-2OPC3dn_Un_O5L9hSYm95UpVY-eVpHIc86XLxF2VatPw9cWw4FXwF104r-iOCs-xP47Bj5D3ohwGF6yzVdcs/s1600/Violence.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdKeElih705Y_WdlZxvfZ3sQRKBJ5jrl7HXb4BuhJ3hmWiJQYS_jcN4t-2OPC3dn_Un_O5L9hSYm95UpVY-eVpHIc86XLxF2VatPw9cWw4FXwF104r-iOCs-xP47Bj5D3ohwGF6yzVdcs/s320/Violence.jpg" width="304" /></a></div>
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A dichotomy has arisen in the last few decades among the moral majority, and as a result many among us have missed out on some of the greatest storytelling in generations. Nakedness, alcohol, drugs, swearing, sex, violence, wizardry and homosexuality are all frowned upon by the Christian elite. Keep it out of their movies and TV shows, off the streets and billboards, but for Christ's sake, leave it in the Bible. As defined by the Urban Dictionary the Bible is "an ancient novel full of murder, corruption, homosexuality, bestiality,
incest and cruelty. It is often read to children on Sunday."<br />
<br />
You wouldn't believe the lengths that the Christians have gone to in order to keep the very stuff they object to in Hollywood, right smack dab in the middle of the Bible. Scribe after scribe, council after council, crusade after crusade, martyr after martyr, philandering televangelist after philandering televangelist, all of these folks, seriously vigilant about making sure the story of King David's harems (<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=2%20sam%205:13&version=NIV" target="_blank">2 Samuel 5:13</a>) and Samuel's genocide (<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+Samuel+15&version=NIV" target="_blank">I Samuel 15</a>) is told with gusto. Sordid affairs involving prostitution and incest (<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Genesis%2019&version=NIV" target="_blank">Genesis 19</a>), detailed portrayals of violence involving a disemboweling (<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=2%20samuel%2020:9-10&version=NIV" target="_blank">2 Samuel 20:9-10</a>) and some beheadings (<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=matt%2014:3-12&version=NIV" target="_blank">Matthew 14:3-12</a>), and one amazing story of angels having sex with women to create a giant race of humans called Nephalim (<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Genesis%206:1-4&version=NIV" target="_blank">Genesis 6:1-4</a>). All of this and more is part of every Christian's heritage. Don't mess. Seriously, don't mess with the Bible, unless you want to go to hell. Haha. just kidding, sort of (<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=rev%2022:19&version=NIV" target="_blank">Revelation 22:19</a>).<br />
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Here in lies the dichotomy: Rejecting the function of immorality in storytelling, but accepting it within our spiritual heritage. <br />
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The Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) puts a rating on almost every movie we watch in the theaters. Movie promoters live and die by these ratings, because one extra curse word could push a "PG-13" to an "R" and drop the expected revenue by 50%. By this logic, one could argue that Christians shot themselves in the foot when it came to marketing their famous book. If there were a movie made that encompassed ever story in the Bible, I'm confident that it would receive a worse rating than NC-17. They would have to make up a rating like 40-EGA-21 (Elderly Guidance for Adults: No admittance to anyone under 21 and those over 21 must be accompanied by someone over 40). The Bible may be God's Word, but try bringing the movie version to Sunday School. Eat that scroll, Enid Strict!<br />
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Who doesn't love a good story, whether its from the Bible or the theater or a good book. There are some mind-blowing stories out there in our world. Several come to our minds immediately, and everyone has a favorite, Treasure Island, The Conversion of Saul, Ben Hur, The Matrix, Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan. Most of those favorites include some realistic curse words, violence, or even some nudity. I would argue that these are variables within each story that actually make it great.<br />
<br />
Who appreciates the beauty of the outdoors more than the man in a
solitary confinement? Who appreciates riches more than the man who grew
up poor? Who appreciates life more than the man who almost died?
Exactly. Sometimes you have to see hell to appreciate the beauty on the other side. Story-tellers take us through these hellish situations to help us appreciate the final outcome. The End. Denouement. Resolution. Catastrophe. I call it "The Payoff". That's when
you know if the journey that the story took you on was worth it or not. Did it payoff well or not so well? Speaking of the Bible, again, it wouldn't be worth it's weight in shekels if it wasn't for the payoff at the end. <br />
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Do you think that people working on a movie with a superbly gory scene are bloodthirsty heathens? No. They are wholesome people with families and kids and Sunday school classes just like you and me, that are part of putting together a good story. Do you think the author who vividly describes a rape scene to his reader is a closet sexual deviant? No. He's telling a story, building up the emotion to bring it all home for a great read. Do you think the people who wrote those disturbing stories in the Bible were creepy lunatics? No. They were normal people for their day and age, putting together the greatest story ever told. <br />
<br />
To him who has an ear let him hear, the morality portrayed in a
story should not be relegated to a single line or even a
single scene but the art as a whole, except, of course if it is blatantly obscene or pornographic.* So, don't give up on a story, based on a few bad words or some splattering blood. It might just be the Bible. <br />
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__________________________<br />
<br />
*(Legal definition of
obscene: <i>an act, utterance, or item
tending to corrupt the public morals by its indecency or lewdness.</i>)<br />
<br />Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3594962970925939644.post-89802899698839703892012-06-25T14:56:00.001-04:002012-06-27T19:52:42.947-04:00S.A.T. Analogies (This is to that as...)I've always been fascinated with analogies, in particular the ones we explored during those formative years taking our S.A.T.'s. <br />
For example:<br />
Orange is to Fruit as Cucumber is to ________<br />
a. Looney Tunes<br />
b. Flapjacks<br />
c. Nastiness<br />
d. Vegetable<br />
<br />
This week I've composed a few analogies based on current events and other things I've come across this past week. Enjoy!<br />
<br />
1. Women are to Baby Clothes (See <a href="http://polarbearperiodical.blogspot.com/2012/06/baby-clothes-and-their-unusual-effect.html" target="_blank">last week's blog</a>)<br />
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<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/107786668147140214964/PolarBearPeriodical?authkey=Gv1sRgCMmutsrf39-8TQ#5758790015440804898"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4kx6Ks-fMCZVbcAkF23ee8Od4ll6EocZCW83TIydnQwLVq4znX0r8p-Id7K2JMuZB55FAsjcKTxU7uvksaJwiNdjlOHJ9dYwiYxDCUfBNx4_e7KaJPIoGgtgIY3scTAr4hn77nyf3sJE/s200/1.jpg" style="margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 5px;" width="200" /></a></center><br />
<br />
as Men are to bacon.<br />
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<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/107786668147140214964/PolarBearPeriodical?authkey=Gv1sRgCMmutsrf39-8TQ#5758790025673571682"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijPiakjwEISKaBDwHqY62PgTXsAFjxOC0tQcVP3EM44ENHn-XM65HXOZDKa1_Dhp5aMuJryEQv3fypcrlUWFdaylgmXf3_Jmc9di3Zmfy4aQ416ZUwuqkC80VaQHFWfu_qpAglGWwxI_U/s288/3.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="240" /></a></center><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
2. Eric Holder is to "Fast and Furious"<br />
<br />
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/107786668147140214964/PolarBearPeriodical?authkey=Gv1sRgCMmutsrf39-8TQ#5758790037960796450"><img border="0" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKynQDUHKJVrqs9C51GXtcqBQ2Xwx1UwbLWmemngaEPiJBBBZfF469WSFDt70PF21k1V0I9ooHHg5i6ZiMU1Hsx8ryFR4irLIY2ibaXeUjmy9lu4sxHlAUkS2rkuXyw_B0hKf9rk3rQ7U/s288/4.jpg" style="margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 5px;" width="209" /></a></center><br />
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as Vin Diesel is to "The Pacifier".<br />
<br />
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/107786668147140214964/PolarBearPeriodical?authkey=Gv1sRgCMmutsrf39-8TQ#5758790052560332642"><img border="0" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFX_FuoWil_qWWr4PjakyYTWnPJbonzxdHNPeRxYFSSOLTHrEr4DJjHZeY7ovssCKWA7vcxPSVFjMaaHLNopzaKzeCB3Hnv0-lIBvlBV5LS8W4pDf-H5ixetr3aLUSJEDNeyFlDuI9teU/s288/5.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
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<br />
<br />
3. Fox News is to a liberal<br />
<br />
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/107786668147140214964/PolarBearPeriodical?authkey=Gv1sRgCMmutsrf39-8TQ#5758790066189878690"><img border="0" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrhSwgdpKkArELOdMnjQWca-f_2-O0-s9rtBZvO4oK9-k75blejXQmPmY4jARLbxi3MKaD2Lij-xLNm55Y3cHvSkXYSZ5oDQoeAB2Ww2_JmCmGVfBSJ2HNOLRf1tBLGMx3HC4nLwq4Hgw/s288/6.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
as a fish is to "out of water".<br />
<br />
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/107786668147140214964/PolarBearPeriodical?authkey=Gv1sRgCMmutsrf39-8TQ#5758790075815145202"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9tQTInGiUDgKRNH9sjB8jGv0Erckc2srZ8jfGG2Lxj5uJVNjYgDsMyvo_fpLKXLwJ9T7ksC0rNPjhCz39iQAI3DVjhU4zGTtnljhJeI-WNf0yIH6bch0Ocx5XbZRKvUaH7eNrayBaTMU/s288/7.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
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<br />
<br />
4. Jerry Sandusky is to Penn State<br />
<br />
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/107786668147140214964/PolarBearPeriodical?authkey=Gv1sRgCMmutsrf39-8TQ#5758790090024153858"><img border="0" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-POPOxLkRsOR-T2bqr2LgvUI1F_OUx3PY_7j3cGSgDB9lZoaDLyEG9mW8MXtXx_MRahGG0kU-70w2cK5A-C97Rj46zzoicbuHneX9fIoCWDpuvnJQci7gZfwIz1MJGsMASt-oPhGLIDQ/s288/8.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
<br />
as Aquaman is to The Justice League.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/107786668147140214964/PolarBearPeriodical?authkey=Gv1sRgCMmutsrf39-8TQ#5758790105241569938"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_wSuta4_ASBA_zgoLY0qyJ6k-rsm_A2b1uefZdyYnpYwJzKuL4OTXv3LQSuJ9RWZCnWZZHjlldNn9ZGZCXXrcpu7puGPP-GQOvP4RPcriatIe1PA_j662GKrTzu_2EXOO9i7JrMOOCwE/s288/9.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
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<br />
<br />
5. PC's are to viruses<br />
<br />
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/107786668147140214964/PolarBearPeriodical?authkey=Gv1sRgCMmutsrf39-8TQ#5758790115531635074"><img border="0" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6mD6BHQG6dU0Z8GbHW-A9t65FzVxIcigzIgPnHviTHfhqQ1nCKi7R6Q_lSde-HTmXTU4smQCB48ZTiGYbVRzRLFLcQO8We2ykIuF-tG9s6_WMl9w3euQJFma5rdCZU2h1UY74ICGlOSo/s288/10.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
<br />
as Greece is to rioting.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/107786668147140214964/PolarBearPeriodical?authkey=Gv1sRgCMmutsrf39-8TQ#5758790131516281522"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgloI-uOYxufhC9uk-mbJoGMveH9MXyZlq5bXZ3gPCyEyxax2RamG2wyxx9jYd4dnpCqFmOaznAv0mvbVzmIxat7l84wLdBE6HrHfiq6Qlf8DLeROZC8dQgavBAJylaZEMJyDxero8NxqQ/s288/11.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
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<br />
<br />
6. "The Bachelorette" is to reality<br />
<br />
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/107786668147140214964/PolarBearPeriodical?authkey=Gv1sRgCMmutsrf39-8TQ#5758790138873701954"><img border="0" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwm9uc49s6cnsvd3lfFwC4-njeb_oncisxiTi5V1jGU7Fx9PZzy1M8i3PQe_FWExbZ3DR7RBEqx2bsDrYVlADJ7KvVbvVDaka1syH8IE-UdieGcQDaHaKROZKu02-lcHS4Zpaq0yQ6xfY/s288/12.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
<br />
as a cardboard box is to a home<br />
<br />
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/107786668147140214964/PolarBearPeriodical?authkey=Gv1sRgCMmutsrf39-8TQ#5758790149496638354"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgTBfntUJPpoN9qB76DUDio0hXkt7opTKRr2Yj-xi4_HYBuZJeDOn3oE0OyjrVTWxkoGnlPbmS391XUo27W6NIUs84RPFYi1_osi8Kr-EVuL6djz22gl0IzqyiqswUJz8JljU81Niz7Sg/s288/13.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
<br />
7. The Stock Market is to a good investment<br />
<br />
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/107786668147140214964/PolarBearPeriodical?authkey=Gv1sRgCMmutsrf39-8TQ#5758790159185022290"><img border="0" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Y5jKUKV3zTVX3wkmt_rCa2hAWKsUOPJ8mmviRJ0eONmUaw5Ru30TAM4sCny8FBS7MWpsXZgOFjh9z-EbyTxUxczxzR_KY9iJFb1F1mO3Kl0xaNVIkJGic3JPSxQiOyNKdJ1IUetKePU/s288/14.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="249" /></a></center><br />
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as a great white shark is to a good pet.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/107786668147140214964/PolarBearPeriodical?authkey=Gv1sRgCMmutsrf39-8TQ#5758790173867622210"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnQ8EXdptNlVruX-giCX6v7X0R7_qhj2muSl_k7YsvjZMwYJaCrGJqmhfFJWzBNt3ENkz4pIT4TFmXbp-aITmSzjmWHjPIzlQkdEfMT8fxDy3HT2u-d8E56WaMclDZjQgR1g4eoL-IZR4/s288/15.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
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Have a great week, y'all.Polar Bear Periodicalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16307286627204267778noreply@blogger.com0