SLiM: How Sweet it isn't!

Every person on the planet knows that sugar is dreadfully bad for you, and if you eat it, you will soon shrivel up, look something like a prune, and then die.

Oh, wait. I’m sorry. This does not apply to everyone. Not everyone is accursed by this horrible thing.

Diabetics will sometimes shrivel up like a prune if they do eat sugar, and sometimes will shrivel up if they don’t.

(I may have just made up the part about shriveling up, but that is the general impression that was made on me.)

Since no one is usually in the mood for shriveling up, we invented a new substitute for sugar, so supposedly we won’t actually shrivel up when we consume trivial amounts of sugar, simply trying to make our food edible. So, instead of using the good old G-d’s sweetener (the humble cane), we instead use a mixture of chemicals, trying (and succeeding) to replicate that taste, with all its attributes.

It’s Splenda®, of course! Or, perhaps a smaller but similar company, Sweet’n Low®!

But wait a minute. Since we tried so hard trying to replicate the flavor of sugar, we came up with something that’s almost as unhealthy as it (and therefore has the potential to turn you into a prune just as well). But if it is just as dangerous as sugar, why use it anyway?

There are 2 reasons, I think, that enter the average person’s mind. First of all, once we mankind have toiled so hard to create that substitute, why not revel in joy over our hard-earned sweetener?

Secondly, I think one of PETA’s sister corporations has gotten into people. People think that we must conserve the sugar, as it is cruel to chop a sugar cane.

However, I, SLiM, have a brilliant refutation for these claims, and it is a very short one.

If soluble saccharin isn’t going to turn you into a prune, what will? (Who wants to eat calcium silicate, anyway?)

SLiM: Health Reform Bull

When we look upon our woes and pities nowadays, we can see quite obviously, that it is the government’s fault. I mean, no duh it’s the government who is taking the money from our pockets, who else would it be? The wise men who you see walking down the street, hunchbacked and hoarse, will tell you, "“It is your own fault, sonny boy. You were foolish enough to vote for a lad who promised change. I remember, young whippersnapper, the good ol’ days, when no politician was corrupt." If you look more deeply, however, you will realize that change is a good thing. Just look at 1763. Then America really needed change. Being taxed with no representation at all, good or bad? Come on.

However, change is usually not needed after about 8 years of something which was, in my opinion, great. (If you feel differently, my next 2 sentences are for you.) However, change is often not needed after 8 years of something bad. I mean, give more time to try it out, like you give to a food! However, I would like to point something out. On the surface, Obama is changing. If you look deeper, though, you find that in the long run, Obama is not changing anything.

If you look carefully throughout recent history, there are 2 happy little countries. One is called the U.S.A., the other U.S.S.R. If you look even more carefully, you will see that the country called the U.S.S.R. ends abruptly in 1994, leaving U.S.A. as the only happy little country left. This is due partially because of a dude called Gobachev, who simply didn’t have the heart to kill every other person he saw. Killing every other, or at least every third person you saw, was a needed quality in the wonderful little country called USSR.

The other main reason was called something called communism, based on a little idea named socialism.

Before I explain what these terms mean, I am urged to quote from a foreign ambassador of Vietnam, a communist country itself:

“We are not without achievement. We have managed to distribute poverty equally.”

So there you have it, folks. Communism is the art of distribution of poverty equally.

But wait! I just got a telephone call from Joseph Stalin, to tell me what communism really is.

Waaaaait a second. Paul has a bull and Frank doesn't?! Gasp! We must give half the bull to Frank! But wait. My trusty PETA advisor here tells me I can't kill the animal to divide its meat, so the government will have to take the bull instead. Now Paul and Frank are both happy because they both have an equal amount of money. Paul complains that the government has taken his bull, and the current prime minister shoots Paul because he is a menace to society that he won'’t share his bull with Frank. Frank complains that he has nothing, so the government gets upset that he is not satisfied with their significant charity. The current prime minister puts a bullet through Frank’s head also, and everyone is happy.

Ah. Thank you, Mr. Stalin.

Now, we must explain what socialism is. Socialism is when one person has more than another, so the government decides to stick its large nose in the way. This is done quite conveniently by something called tax. Or, to be more precise, income tax. (Einstein once remarked that one of the only things he didn't understand was income tax.) So here's the scenario, in today’s terms.

Waaaaait a second. Bill has health insurance and Richard doesn't? We have to tax Bill to pay for poor, sad, Richard’s health insurance that he doesn't really want.

As it looks like from here, U.S.A. is gonna start working on spreading poverty equally.

Let’s hope I don’t get a bull.

SLiM: Two all beef patties...

I love our country. Yes, I am a very patriotic person, whether or not you believe it.

What I want to write about here is that I am fed up with a certain song about the U.S. No, it’s not G-d Bless America. I love that song. It’s not even The Star Spangled Banner, even though I hate the way that song revolves around The Flag. No, it’s a song that many of you out there probably don’t even know that it’s a patriotic song.

It’s The Big Mac Song.

Yep, many of you don’t know it, but it officially is an American song.

Here’s why. A while ago, a group of people made a survey of how many Americans knew The Big Mac Song, versus how many Americans knew The Pledge of Allegiance. The end results were astonishing.

More Americans Knew The Big Mac Song than the Pledge of Allegiance!!!!

I, personally have never gone to McDonald’s® and never hope to, and therefore shudder to think of pledging allegiance to the big Yellow M, and starting off the day with Two all-beef patties…

Just to tell people out there: In case you didn’t think so yet, the Big Mac™ is officially an American icon now.

SLiM: Even in the chocolate box?

Some people out there don’t blog for the simple reason that they won’t be able to find ideas for their posts. Truth is, if you keep yourself aware at all times, you will find that ideas for posts are everywhere. One of the best such cases was my idea for A Chocolate what at the North Pole?

When I was allowed passed the land mines that protect the chocolate box, I took it out in order to give me time to choose.

A dear sibling of mine, whom I shall call The Shmoozer, was standing behind me as I sifted through the chocolate box. She was quite surprised when I picked something up, put it down, picked it back up again, and read the label carefully. I then lifted up my finger triumphantly, (almost piercing The Shmoozer’s nose) and yelled out “blog post!” I then ran upstairs and wrote down the words:

inspiration for bloggers is everywhere (tell how got the ideas for penguin) (“even in the chocolate box?”?)

I wrote my ideas on a piece of paper marked “SLiM Blogger Ideas #3” in my folder called “SLiM Blogger Ideas”.

The lessons to learn from this: If you are organized, jot down your ideas when you get them (if I’m away from home, I write an idea down on a piece of scrap paper and transfer them later), and keep your eyes open, you’ll find blogging is the easiest thing since sliced bread.

Sorry, wrong comparison.

SLiM: Row, Row, Row

Charles Babbage Jr was singing a song. It is a song I have heard being sung hundreds of times over my (short) life. The lyrics of the song go like this:

Row, row, row, your boat, gently down the stream, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.

You, my reader, have probably heard this song thousands of times over your life, but yet, it got me thinking.

I’ve heard plenty of philosophy and uplifting lines. Some of my favorites:

If you feel you’re at the bottom of the world, don’t worry, the world turns around every 24 hours. (I know, scientifically it doesn’t make too much sense. It’s still pretty good, though.) Another one: Before you see the light, you’ve got to deal with the darkness. But none of these quotes are as inspiring as the last line in that nursery rhyme.

…life is but a dream.

Amazing what’s hidden in a little kid’s song, huh?

SLiM: Happy Un-Turkey Day

I am a very patriotic person. I love our country, and especially Thanksgiving, when we talk about what we are thankful for. I also love the food, and that I get out of school early. However, I want to make one thing clear.

There is substantial evidence that the pilgrims never ate turkey on the first thanksgiving. Killing such a timid bird was considered lazy, and the Native Americans would certainly have certainly refused to dine with lazy people. I’m not saying it’s for sure not, I’m saying that it’s highly unlikely, and that’s enough to stop me.

Carry on with your turkey, but I don’t think I want to join you, thank you.

Unless if the pilgrims said that the main dish was wild vulture, and the Indians believed them.

Which is unlikely.

SLiM: The Missing Whale

(Editor's Note: This post mysteriously never made the blog but was written in a timely fashion. It is still fresh and enjoyable, however.)

Now that the holiday seasons are over (I mean officially, now that we have taken down our oh-so-temporary home,) I would like to reflect.

At this time last year, I was reading a fun book, by the name of The Ear, the Eye, and the Arm. This was because of a program which involves smashing people over the head with books (sorry, I couldn’t resist).

The clan, along with some cousins, went on the average, every-chance-we-get-oh-let’s-go-there trips we usually take at this time of year. Some of my reviews from them:

The ol’ ice-skating SLiM is just as good as he ever was (namely, not all that great). It looked much worse next to my cousin, whom we shall call $cooter, who is much better than me though he looks about my age, height, and build.

Ahhh, Jeepers. What can I say? You run in, stomp on a few spiders, and get a little Thing that is supposed to resemble a horse. Presently, you lose the Thing about 25 minutes after receiving it, making your 45 minutes of spider stomping a waste of time. The Yak-Attack was fun, though, and I must’ve gone on the Python Pit 15 times.

The meals were good as always, though the conversations weren’t what I anticipated. It was chilly with rain EVERY DAY every 5 ½ minutes. Still, it wasn’t bitter cold, and there were very few bees (a few came to taste M.M.’s food).

I had a lesson on how to build a hut, if I am stranded in some place with only a few pipes, fishing wire, and bamboo. The result was quite satisfying.


And now, my main rant. Since it rained a lot, the tarp was needed very much. And as I was serving food to the rest of the clan at the table minus Rabbim, I heard Rabbim’s voice from outside, “Beware the Whale!” As I walked out, a massive sploosh of water came down from the tarp, causing my shirt to get water on it. And the water was wet.

Rabbim came in, saw my pathetic state, and said “I told you about the whale!”

Hmm. That’s strange. I didn’t see any 500 ton animal anywhere in the metropolitan area.

The next morning, I came out, only to see the tarp heavy with water and Rabbim trying to get rid of it, muttering some stuff about the troublesome whales.

Soon we came home, and I found M.M. poking the tarp with a stick, saying “we’ve got to get rid of that whale!” I was wondering if our pet whale which we don’t have was on top of our bamboo roof. It seemed odd, but perhaps I missed the memo that our family was getting a very oversized pet.

During the meal, I heard a very upset Rabbim say “I must get rid of that whale, now, once and for all.”

I was really upset now. I asked as politely as I could (which sounded something like a yell) “would you please tell what all this talk about whales is?!”

I got 3 or 4 stunned faces. 3 or 4 wide open mouths. 3 or 4 “you don’t know what a whale is?”

I wanted to say, “Yeah, duh I know what it is. It is a marine mammal, with many different species from the humpback to the blue to the northern right whale. The blue whale’s tongue is about the size of a car, and its heart weighs about as much as an elephant. Whales dine only on plankton. Whales live in many different ocean habitats, but I’ve never heard of a whale that lives on top of a TARP!” I wanted to say it, but wisely didn’t.

The answer: “Oh, a whale refers to a collection of water on top of a tarp.”

I was not amused. A friendly argument then broke out about whose side of the family it comes from.

Next time, I’m just going to get my harpoon gun and go get the whale myself.