I did not live in fear of what the police might do to me, but what my father would do to me. I had seen my father so rarely violent. I knew what he could do, but I never saw that could be unleashed on me, but on the person he was protecting me from. My father always made it clear to me that he would rain hell fire down on the person that hurt his boy. It wasn’t the fear of the harm my father could do to me that kept me in line and out of trouble, it was so much more than that.

(parable of the barrel)

When I was nine years old I was with my father hunting in Willows Ca. I was a crappy hunter, terrible shot, crapped my pants, and  the stories can go on and on about the worst hunter in the Clark family. My father was among the best. Aside from being notoriously bad shot I was also left handed. If you have ever used a shotgun that ejected the shells out of the side of the gun it was most likely coming from the right side. If you haven’t, imagine a place that is in a confined space lights gunpowder hot in off and quick enough to shoot scores of beebees out the barrell. Now you cannot just explode gunpowder in a tight sapce like that with just anything, you need something storng enough to hold the gunpower before it exploded. This is made from metal that doesn’t melt when it gets really hot really fast, it just absorbs it, making the metal really hot. Since the hot shells are ejecting from the right side of the gun, the burning hot metal shot away from the right handed shooter and the shells didn’t have to shoot over the other arm in order to stay clear from any part of a right handers body because the metal was really really hot.

This is an important part of the story. For the hunting story I am going to tell it from one of my grandfather’s hunting buddies, I think the one that used to hunt with Tito.

Now right handed guns are for right handed people, it is why so many right handers like hunting. However if you were like Tom’s boy who was a south paw, lefty, or as everyone else saw it, not right handed. Most the time Tom’s boy had a jacket on, so when the shells hit his arm he didn’t notice. Only a few times did the shells hit skin, the boy dropped the gun in the mud and Tommy spent the rest of the day cleaning it as the rest of his family went hunting.

Most the time it was just my Tom and his boy out there. The family would always split into groups of two, three or four. Almost all the time rest of the family came back with their limit, Tom would always have one bird, and the south paw would be the one carring it. Most of them saw Tom give the bird to his son right before they got to the trucks. That kid was always dirty, no kills, eyes swollen from the brush, he reminded me of a kid in movies, the scronny one with the inhaler. But this kid didn’t have an inhaler, instead he was holding a shot gun. Tom had it specially made for him. It only had one shot but the shell didn’t eject and burn his arm. The kid was already a bad shot, this gun didn’t help. He looked so proud holding it with the barrel up.

As he approuched the group he gently pointed the gun down, in the oppisite directon from everyone else. Pulled the trigger back to unlock it. Now this trigger was different than the others, and really, not as safe, but nobody seemed to give it as second thought. Tom’s boy never pointed the gun at anyone. He put the gun down, cocked back the trigger to unlock it, flipped the barrel open, held the gun steady with one hand, removed the lone shotgun shell, looked down the barrel of the gun to be sure that one didn’t sneak in when nobody was looking. I will never forget how he looked down the barrel, he knew exactly what steps to take to make a dagerous wepon in to a harmless paper weight. He didn’t exactly as he was tought, though some of it may seem silly to anyone outside of the group that was hunting. The family would boast over their kills but they were most proud that everyone made it back, as they always done before.

I think Tom’s boy shot two Pheseants in his life. One was a join kill with his cousin. Tom flushed the bird out, Tom’s nephew was around eleven years old. The bird flew up in front of Tom, inbetween Tom and two boys nine and eleven with loaded shotguns was the bird they were out to hunt.

This is a small foot note in Clark family stories. Most would think it would have been told more, that is if the story went something like,

“Tom’s boy and nephew, bird flies up and pow, both shot at the same time. What sane man would take to kids out with loaded wepons? Poor bastard.”

But that isn’t how the story is told. The bird flew up between the two boys and Tom. Tom could have swat the bird out of the air it was that close to him. The two boys were about 15 feet away, their barrels pointed at the ground. They were always told, you do not point at something you do not intend to shoot. Tom saw the bird, the boys didn’t, they saw Tom and were not about to point their guns at him. The two moved their guns along the path of the bird and the barrels pointed harmlessly to the ground. They followed that bird with thier barrels pointed to the ground until they turn almost 180 degrees and both of then fired their guns at the same time and the bird fell to the ground.

Tom told his brother in law what happend. Bill laughed patting Tom on the back and said, “if it were me, I would have hit ground.” One might think Tom merly froze in the face of two children with loaded wepons wanting nothing more than to shoot the very thing that is flying in front of him. I wondered if Tom’s life flashed before his eyes. But I know it didn’t, and if he though it was appropriate he would have been face down in the ground the moment the bird took off. Tom was confident that the boys knew what to do and if he wasn’t then he would have been there. With so much to be embarassed about Tom knew his boy knew what mattered and that is why he was so proud to bring him back to the group, even if they were empty handed.

I, Vince, did make a mistake once. I dropped my gun near the mud. One can never shoot a gun if there is mud in it and that was a day killer right there. I wasn’t sure if mud even got in there. I paniced and acted like a nine year old, the gun was not cocked, and the chances of it going off without devine intervention was none. The gun was still loaded and I put my face in front of it. I was not thinking. My father swiped the gun from me and I will never forget the stair. I cannot say what it said, anger, disappointment, failure, I could guess but it was a look I had never saw before and it terrified me. Then he said the most terrifing thing I have ever heard in my life. “What would your grandmother say if she saw you do that?” It was beyond comprhension. He gave me back my gun. I pointed it down, with one hand held the gun, with the other I removed the bullet. I put the bullet in my pocket and looked down the barrel, this time from the oppisite end. I did exactly what I was taught. There was a small piece of dirt. I knew not to put anything I do not intend to shoot in front of the barrel of the gun. I knew that I could not shoot the gun if there was dirt there. I could have easily removed it when my father wasn’t looking, but this was not allowed I had not intention of shooting my hand off so I was not going to put it in front of the unloaded gun.

So I did what any nine year old kid that wanted to walk around with guns, hunting with his father and cousin would do, I told my father what had happened. I knew the day was ruined, the gun was dirty, I had to stay back at the truck. My father took the gun, walked around the truck, came back and handed it back to me. I checked to see if it was loaded and the barrel was clear and it was. I pointed the gun down opened it, held it with one arm and put the bullent in. I closed the gun and kept the barrel down. That was a really fun day.

In the end, what does this have to do with how I feared my father. With so much unpredictibility he taught me that there were always constants. He taught me to do right and then taught me what right was. I did not fear a beating, I feared doing something wrong. Now that my father is dead and there is a complete absense of fear that he could ever harm me, but I still follow what he taught me, not for fear of him, but the fear of being wrong. I am not always right, and I mess up, I try to admit when I am to blame, but I do not accept it when it isn’t mind.

Things will always be tough, but I draw on the fact that I do do good, I am better than I think, and I can always do better. I have a far higher standerd to compare myself to than I can expect anyone to hold for me.

That is how I am Tom Clark’s son.

This pain needs to be resolved, I cannot live like this. This is my last stand, this is my Alamo.

Wish me luck

I will your foot ran over and then try to chase the person that did it. Your foot is broken, so this is going to hurt, however, I cannot help you until you can tell me what the make and model of the car was, the license plate number, who was driving it, and then I will give you some forms so I can quickly input it into my forms that I am required to do before I jump out of the office right as the clock hit six.

The good thing besides spending all weekend combing through a year of pain logs for my appointment I will post pone thinking about how my weekly pay check much shorter than it should of and after staring at it for at least an hour, I know I figured it out. The bad part of it, it will have been the first of the month and some important automatic drafts will most likely get annoyed which set me back even further.

But why complain things are great here. Granted I am having fun learning how to make hdr images at 9:30pm at night, which is made possible by a visit to the Urgent Care, which I avoid more than rabid bores when relativly ok. The nurse took pitty on me, first time I cried at the doctors office. Not mentioning that you do that, it is quite huliating. But I finally got pain medicine.

During the onset of the incident that started the 18th I called the pain management doctor, you know the whole, getting pain medication from too many doctors bothers for me. When he called me back, he told me that he was not seeing me for my back but my side. I had told him that my back, neck, and side all seemed to me to be related. Since the last never group he numbed was in my back right next to my spine, I thought he had agreed. I understand differentials better than anyone, but I am confused on why you would give an injection to someone to see if it works over the course of two day and give them a month between appointments.

While we are on the subject of the pain management, it turn out the nerve that hurts the most is the one in one that goes from my back, through my side, in my testicular, and down my leg. Even more strange, this is not the nerve suspected and is isn’t even on the list of nerves that were or will be blocked.

I know what I am suffering from. I know what needs to be done. I don’t have all the answers but I have somewhere to look. I personally think it is bull shit when I can desin a better course of treatment than these doctors, and I know that with one week in a hospital this can all be figured out and I would be back at work in 6 weeks.

The reality, buracracy must be serve and the world has Vincent Clark layed up on a couch.

I think that is the worst part. I can be fixed in a week, sedate me, give me a lap top, private room, internet access, capable doctors, and I will be as good as new.

That will never happen, because, it has never been like that before.

Why not? Why can’t we have something like that, rather, I want that. I want an idealistic president with an ideal minded team pushing their agendas, the agenda of their bleeding hearts against people that have only a portion of interest in anything.

We all know that would be best, we all know that if it were like that things would be so much better. I can live with the fact that we lost Camelot on the streets of Dallas, but I cannot live with the fact that we have never tried to get it back. If I were to point out the biggest single failure of the people of the United States is that one thing. It is that one thing that makes us a mere power, nothing super.

This is why I have an Obama iBumperSticker supporting the man on my site.

What do you think?

Modern science teaches us that all life on Earth originated from on single cell organism.

When a flame is passed from one candle to another the flame that is passed is never diminished.

When we put these concepts together we see that life and fire are much the same. Life is passed from the parents to the child with diminishing the life of the giver, much like fire.

If we were to follow these teachings to the inevitable conclusion we will find that all life on this planet is of the same fire. Perhaps life is an evolutionary set. Perhaps the idea of communing with nature isn’t so far off. Could the Hindu ideal of respecting all life and finding relativity in it isn’t that far off either? Maybe our bodies are not vessels but rather fuel for the life that burns within us. Could this be why we feel so connected to fire on so many different levels? Fire is the core to more than just religious beliefs. One can only stand in awe when looking at the eternal flame at Kennedy’s grave.

In the Orthodox Church at Easter time we have a tradition in which all the lights are turned off. A single flame is then passed to a several candles. The candles are then walked down the aile and passed to the worshipers. The flames is then passed from one to another until everyone’s candle is a blazed. In a matter of minutes all the candles are burning all from one single flame that has existed within the church since the church was first construction. This same flame than was passed to one another, than illuminated the church had inspired the same glow year after year. The flame is as strong as the day it was ignited. The same flame that brought unity to to those of us inside the church, that brought unity to the past could consume the world if given the proper chance.

The fire that burns within the candles of the church at Easter time could be used to do so much good and could do so much harm. In all my days I could not find a better example for all the life that surrounds us.

Background

I don’t remember the first time I heard the phrase Wen 2.0 however I remember when I first mustered the courage to ask somebody what Web 2.0 was. It was the fall of 2003, I was working for Disney Online and our executives just returned from a conference talking about Web 2.0. The response to my question was “Ajax”. I was puzzled so I then decided to seek harder for a definition. I found that it was indeed Ajax.

Ajax stands for Asynchronous JavaScript and XML. learn more

Basically, Web 2.0 is data driven web based applications. What separates these applications from a simple web page is more than the user just staying on one page and bits of the page update instead of having to reload the whole thing. The main selling point of this technology is the ability to download and change only that what needs to change. The idea was to do a number of micro requests instead of one giant request that anticipates all possible choices that can be made. Needless to say a number of well placed micro requests require a lot less to be downloaded.

The first web based application to catch the eye of executives is Gmail. I remember when the Director of Application Technology at Disney Online asked me how the heck Gmail was able to do what it did. The funny thing about 2003, we did not know that we were using Web 2.0 for a couple of years. Learn More

What is Next

Web 3.0

A key fact to technology that is yet to be realized by the masses the the impact the World Wide Web Consortium (http://w3c.org) has had on application development. The W3C is a collection of key innovators in the industry that has given us one of the most revolutionary concepts known as Web Standards. Granted that Web Standards are not 100% fully accepted, they are at least 99% accepted, which is mind bogglingly huge. Web Standards are an agreed upon way browser rendering engines use HTML, CSS, Javascript, as well as other minor areas.

Almost by accident this concept has given a long needed unifying graphic user interface which allows for the same application to be used on Unix based systems such as Apples OSX, Internet Explorer on PC’s as well as FireFox on Linux, Windows, and OSX. The list goes on.

Web 2.0 gave us insight on how to arrange web based applications by the division between the logic of an application which would exist on a hosted service and the GUI (Graphic User Interface) that would exist on the client machine.

With this technology an applications could use a combination of a web browser such as FireFox or Internet Explorer and web services that would be hosted outside of the clients machine. I cannot stress enough how fundamentally big this is. Though it might not be transistors to microchips, but vacuum tubes to transistors. Though we no longer use transistors we would not be where we are today without them.

One of the most outstanding applications of this concept is Adobe’s Adobe Integrated Runtime (AIR). Adobe made the decision to not reinvent the wheel and build a browser rendering engine from the ground up. They figured that since they want to court web based application developers already familiar with HTML, Ajax, CSS, and Shortwave Flash it would be silly to code something to web standards when there were already available rendering engines.  Adobe decided to use Web Kit, which is the same rendering engine used in the Safari Browser. AIR also gives an API to allow for the user to interact with the operating system. Since there is no standard for communicating with the clients file system or system resources AIR for the Mac is coded different than that for Windows. Since the API used to communicate with the front end the burden for cross platform falls upon that of Adobe developers and not on the application developer.

Another high point of this technology is a lead in to Web 4.0. This is the interchangeability between a web based application and an AIR based application. The best example is Adobe’s Acrobat.com platform. There is a web based version as well as an AIR based version. The AIR based version is more convenient to use and requires less resources however, the functionality of the application is almost exactly the same. With Adobe’s Flex Builder a developer can build within the rules of a web based application while having the ability to integrate specific functionality specific to AIR such as communicating with the operating system such as loading a file into the application.

It is important to note that AIR is not the first of the new generation of web applications. Google, Yahoo, Mozilla, Apple, Windows, and a couple others all have been developing this idea.  It is also important to note that it is not the first time we have seen an integrated platform either. Java has been doing this when Internet Explorer 3 was struggling against Netscape. AIR is the best example of the exploitation of these concept.

What makes this better than existing web based applications?

We all go to those web sites in which we need to jump through several hoops before we can do what we want to do. A good example would be updating your “Tea” blog on Blogger.com.

First you need to open your browser, if you are like me and use a portal site as your home page, you get distracted by stock prices, sport scores, your email, current news, weird news, and a quick sudoku game.

Next you got to http://blogger.com. Since my wife and I share computers I cannot take advantage of the “remember me” feature thus, I need to log back in. Since my passwords are protected I need to give FireFox permission to pull down my log-in and password information.

The great idea I wanted to blog about is fading.

If you are one of those people that don’t delete old blogs and have spent the past few years finding the right blog for you are then faced with a clutter issue.

If you are one of those people that work on several blogs you are too faced with a clutter issue.

By the time that you open the browser, navigate away from the distractions, log in, find your blog, start a new post, the topic you wanted to blog about is nothing more than a reminder that you had a great idea.

The alternative would be to have an AIR application that is set to log you on automatically, and select a specific blog. This then gives you instance access to your Tea blog and there is only one click that stands between you and blogging about the new Russian Tea at the Tea Rose Garden.

to be continued

Next: web 3.5

In 2000 we spent to much time make fun of Al Gore for “inventing the Internet” and too little time looking at Carl Rove or Scooter Libby.

We know all too well the payoffs of running a successful campaign. This is why I don’t really mind that John McCain doesn’t use the Internet. What concerns me more is how little his advisers know of the Internet in comparison to Barack Obama.

When looking at CNN’s Politics site I noticed the main story was about Obama’s pick for the VP. To the right of the page I saw a paid advertisement wonderfully integrated into the page supporting Obama. The way the page and the ad fit together, if one did not know that it was an advertisement they would think that CNN was supporting Obama.

In a time where online advertising has fundamentally changed the rules something simple like a well placed ad matching keywords shows a higher level of understanding of the world that we live in. If this is good or bad had yet to be seen, however, Obama’s camp can speak with more authority on Internet based regulations that McCain.

For example, are these ads violating any election laws? Is this an ethical practice?

I am guessing unless someone from McCain’s camp is reading this post it will not be discussed. This alone raises questions about those in Obama’s camp.

Why should Obama’s team point this advertising flaw out?

Is it ethical of Obama’s camp to exploit this yet to be realized issue and not bring it to the public?

Should this be the soul criteria for picking a president? Of course not, it is only a window to the people behind the man running for the most important office in our country. If we paid more attention to Mr. Rove’s cold calling asking people if they would support McCain if they knew that he had an illegitimate black child, or placing up signs in prominently black neighborhoods telling the people before they vote to clear up any warrants, parking tickets, or other things of that nature, then perhaps we wouldn’t be as surprised at the disgraceful actions of the Bush administration. Perhaps if we knew Rove, Libby, and others within the Bush campaign we would not be in the mess we are in now. The actions of the 2000 and 2004 for campaigns by the Bush camp speaks volumes about what we could expect from his administration in the future.

I remember seeing after school specials and a Mark Harmon movie where there is some kid that is dyslexic and doesn’t want to tell anyone because they were embarrassed. I never understood that. If you can’t see the letters right, why don’t you say something, and, why so secretive about it? They always find this person because the dyslexic writes a note to a new friend and swears that person to never tell anyone. That person struggles and then finally tells someone. How lame!

As for me, I am I tend to flip the letters and numbers, b, g, d, q, 9, and 6. The experts tell me that the reason that I don’t see it clearly is that my brain figures it out before i realize that there is a problem. If I was just looking at one letter then that would be ok, but looking at full sentences, and even more daunting an entire page, my brain needs to work in overdrive to correct the mistakes before the end user, me, notices the mistake. It was from this I coined the phrase, “If at first you don’t succeed, do it again before anyone notices.”

The shortcoming of mine affects my reading comprehension more than anything else. In my life time I have read two books cover to cover, three if you include the Growing Pains episode book. The best way for me to read a book is to listen to it. There are two problems with that. The first is since the book is read to me the voice of the author is supplied and I cannot use my own. This is great when the speaker can do a far better job at speaking the book than you. This is painful if the author is speaking like he or she is reading a menu to you. Unfortunately these menu readers do a majority of textbooks in college, which is one of three reasons why I chose not to go back.

The other problem is how the information is put together. Some information is arranged best for textbooks allowing one to make notes and does not take into consideration someone listening to the book.

One might assume that the one listening to the book can quickly take down notes while they are reading. This would then require the listener to pause and resume the book. An easier task might be to write down the times of something interesting and then go back and review it later and then compile the notes from there.

Why does this not work? Simple, if the person was able to write down notes and organize an analog audio book in such a fashion, not to mention navigating chapters, which are more conceptual when dealing with an audio book and not something that you can flip to, then that person really wouldn’t need to have the audio book.

It is this reason that compelled me into technology, I wanted to make things easier for people like me to navigate through this kind of information. I have learned a lot in speech recognition and text to speech. Despite great progress, there is still something lagging. I believe this is true because the people that need the information most are not the ones directing the people sorting the information.

Without the advanced super system that would allow me to get the information and process it tailored specifically to me, there are a lot of things in technologies that exceeds my education far beyond anything tried in the past. I have learned some tricks and built some crude programs.

I spent too long being really smart but not well educated. With the ability to get science, philosophy, religion, novels, and history books through iTunes has opened a new world for me. I am like a kid in a candy store. Depending on what I am listening to is what my current passion is for. Sometimes it is understanding the grand unifying theory of everything other times it is understanding the strife in the middle east. As each book intertwines I like to draw parallels and look for patterns, which are everywhere.

There are some areas where I still struggle, mainly with forms. Sometimes it is an envelope that some office employee put together as a part of an approved package without thinking about the person needing to process them. The worst part is when the forms you need to fill out are the forms you need to get help. This is a big reason why my bills don’t get paid, my license periodically gets suspend, my wages garnished, and so on. I have always had the money to pay my bills, but would have far more if they were paid on time. I am lucky there is now direct deposit and automatic bill pay, of which I would be completely lost.

I find myself in a constant state of turmoil, and more than anything, I hate to ask for help. Partly because when I do I have a lot of forms to fill out, and the biggest lesson learned in college, never call in favors, low level counselors will hate you for that.

Needless to say it takes a lot for me to say that there is something that I need help with. I found that people, mostly really “understanding people” see that as a sign of incompetence. They see it as you being disable and unable to lead others or even work with them.

I am the most gifted person I know. I see things in ways that no other does. After being friend with Victor for almost half of my life I finally was able to show him something that he did not see as totally crazy, granted he won’t concede the ideas are not crazy, just that they might not be. I have spent a life time trying to communicate with others. People often say, either you are really really crazy, or really really genius, but I am not sure which one. Recently as the education has improved I have found that I am tired of being crazy. Still to me the biggest hurdle is the forms, simple little forms, merely the act of mailing something as simple as my taxes or my xbox 360 to be repaired is almost impossible. I understand that the best way for me to interact with the world is to conform to it standards, but that is a hopeless feat, mainly because there are more people like me that not are different. I struggle for that interface in which I can be understood, but even that requires forms. These are simple forms, forms I know Jen would help me with, I know my mother would help me with, but I don’t ask.

I eyes swell when the reason become very clear, I am simply ashamed and do not want people to know that I cannot do something as simple as filling out an address change card. I know people don’t understand because it is so easy, or at least it should be really easy. So I don’t do it, and I fall behind, and I find myself in that state of always digging out of a hole.

Simply because I don’t want people to know, and then I realize that I am the kid in the Mark Harmon movie and I am the dumb jock in the After School Special, I write long posts and complicated notes so people will discount it and not notice, but there is nothing I would want more.

This is why I am in a cube, with half walls on the 18th floor and not doing what I am capable of. Or is this the beginning, and we find ourselves looping through the figure eight, infinity, “Time never dies. The circle is not round.” The reason why the circle is not round is that the circle is infinity, which is an intersecting loop. So clear to me.

– > Finding Mozart < –

As most people have figured out by now, my health isn’t doing all that great. I cannot express how much I feel that this is holding me back, or why I even show up to work most days. I don’t want to go, but I shouldnt. I also know that this is my hell, not my empolyers. Sometimes we like to think of our work as a family. After spending a Chrismas dinner with my family I am not sure that this is such a great idea.

Last Christmas Jen and I were late to dinner. My mom was ok with it, or at least she told me she was. While waiting my mother and sister started to play games and drink, drink a lot.

After playing Karokee for an hour, listening to my intoxicated mother and sister bicker back and forth we sat down to eat. I am not sure what the comment was that cause my little sister to leave the table in a fit of rage, call her friend, walk around the block, and to come back. She was better when she came back, but I could still feel this sense of out of place.

I never asked her what the real problem was. I already knew. She was away from my older sister, my niece, who were in Maryland, and most importantly, away from my father, of whom we had squander are last few chance of having a Christmas dinner with. Christmas is never fun, but needed.

When I was taking my little sister back to the airport she told me what was bothering her. She had told me that it was because we were late and didn’t say we were sorry. She ranted for 30 minutes, and then brought up specific details of when Jen has been late, and on and on and on.

I can see where this would upset someone, and I cannot argue that isn’t a good reason to be upset, the fact of the matter is that was not the reason why she was upset.

I find to that my family is there when I need them, or at least that is what they tell me. If my family is reading this, I am sure they can point to specific times in which they were there for me. On the other hand, I can tell them twice the number of times that they were not there for me.

I then find myself conflicted. Is it like the song, “never had to knock on wood.” In which the singer describes life changing events that has never happened to him, and admits that he might be a coward, just has never found out. The point of the song was that the writer did not know of who he was or how he would fair if things got really bad. “Have you ever had the pain so powerful you had to collapse?” Then says that he has not. I wonder that my family appears to have never been been there for me because I have never really needed them.

I find that argument wrong on some many levels, but write on one or two. So I find myself conflicted. I have always known that I cannot do this alone, but never really had faith in anyone ever really helping me. This is much like finding out today that a very likely cause of my current health problems is the treatments for the problem.

I feel like I am not sure which end is up. Who is a co-work or who is a sister. Sometimes you need to interact with your coworkers like family and deal with your family like co-workers. That I can accept, and more importantly, I have to accept that this is not just my job, or my family, but this is how we all are in almost every aspect of our interaction with the world.

My problem is that I treat people like family far more than I treat people like business partners, which is why I find myself conflicted.

Why do I care? Because that was the 2%, and then where are the gap girls? Sadly, that is the other 1.5% So there I am, as bad as things are there is a stark reminder that they can always be worse. Somewhere, thought that it would be funny to make 99.5% of all ads in all the work horibly obnoxious to me and more unbarable than the pain in my side. Thanks guys.

So that is where I am at. Would have been too much to ask that the gap people and old navy people expaned into that 98% and making only 94% of the ad’s completly unbarable to the point where I am forced to wait 30 minutes before a show starts so I don’t have to watch that camel crap. Now I have to see them on my computer before I can find out what cnn passes off as “strange news.” Site have become unbarable, and the worst, that is why we left TV. They are following us. Conforming Old Navey, killing the Del Taco Comercials, pretending that we think KFC isn’t Kuntucky Fried Chicken, but Kitchen Fresh Comercials? Do they expect us to just forgive New Coke. I can forgive a lot of things, but that one, that is far worse than any communist or extreamist ever did to us. Not as bad aas the ass wooping at the hands of the British in 1812, but damn close. Perhaps we need that slap again. Sort of what you have to do when your kid starts becoming a brat.

And the people behind the “Better Coverage Than Three Coats of Spray Tan.” Will get their just deserve. Because that is the final straw where the brat says, “That didn’t hurt” that makes you take the swing that shuts him up.

Or, you can just bring back old navy comercials and the gap girls. You choose.