The NFL's Safe Spaces Need to Go

I'm taking some time out of my busy life as a grad student to jump on a new bandwagon. Criticizing safe spaces at universities has been a fun hobby for anyone who is looking for extra things to be angry at, and I've got some anger to spare these days, so I want to criticize them too.

I'm vaguely familiar with safe spaces. I recently played tag with a friend's 5 year old, and I was reminded that when playing tag, you NEED to set up a base where tag doesn't count. 5 year olds are really arbitrary about where and when bases exist, but let me tell you this - she put them everywhere, and playing with her was annoying. Losing at tag to a kid who makes the rules was humiliating. A place where you are "safe" has no place in tag or in life.

Which brings me to the most offensive secret safe-spaces in American culture, and I'm honestly shocked this has not been discussed more.

The NFL is absolutely chock full of safe spaces, and it is downright un-American.

The other team's end zone is an absurd place to have a safe-space, but there it is.  Defenders are allowed to clobber whoever is holding the ball until that slippery eel touches the safe zone and is totally off limits.

Take a look at this pansy taking advantage of a safe space. 

At the very least, defenders are allowed to try to stop the other team from getting into the end zone. What's worse are the sidelines. It only looks like football is an anything-goes sort of game, but it's not. Sissy safe-spaces pervade. In fact, most of the world is an unfair safe space - as soon as a player steps 'out of bounds,' he can't be hit, which frustrates defenders to no end. Imagine trying to slam someone's face into.the grass only to find out you can't touch him because he's in a giant safe space with all of his friends standing in a line sticking their tongues out at you.

No wonder Rex Ryan tries to stay on the sidelines

Compare that to a real sport like professional wrestling, where once you knock your opponent out of the ring, you do whatever it takes to finish him because that's how life works. Don't like it? Tough. Eat a steel ladder.

Real men have no use for boundaries

Football isn't immune to the politically correct trend, either. Some players are somehow "different" and hitting them is a foul. Touch a kicker the wrong way and a defender gets flagged, even when the kicker is in the middle of the playing field.

Quit acting like the rules should be different for the vulnerable among us  

These rules insisting that kickers, exposed receivers, or throwing quarterbacks somehow deserve different treatment destroys the integrity of the game. The nerve of Cam Newton appealing to referees because defenders aren't respecting his safe space on the field! 

Don't think of it as brain damage, think of it as a quaterback's rite of passage

I firmly believe that everyone should have a place where they make the rules and feel like they are in control.  For me, like many American males, that is my home. I should not feel like anyone else is imposing their arbitrary and oppressive power structures when I just want to relax and not deal with other people making me feel crappy. My safe space is the football season, so please get your safe spaces out of it.

ed. note - the opinions above do not represent the actual opinions of the author. He is simply grumpy about recent events and decided sarcasm was an ok coping mechanism. 

Hamlet on Facebook

A while back I sent McSweeney's Internet tendency a submission which, unfortunately, was not accepted (for reasons I can only attribute to  poor taste). The benefit to this is that I now can post this here, for you, dear reader.

Without further ado, I give you the soliloquy of Hamlet, as adapted for modern times.

To click, or not to click- that is the question
Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to ignore
The breasts and gossip of the outrageously fortunate
Or to read of the sea of their troubles
And by indulging, generate revenue. To stare, to think
No more, and by reading we end
The heartache, the constant daily drudge
That office life is made of. ‘Tis a bliss
Devoutly to be wished. To zone out, yes,
To gaze – perchance to dream, yes, that is the hope
For in that celebrity gossip rag what dreams may come
When I shuffle off this mortal deadline
Gives me pause ere I e-mail my boss.
There’s no respect I hold for the lives
Of those who bear the whips and scorns of Baldwin,
Th’ oppressive boar, the proud lout’s contumely,
Or report the  pangs of Anniston’s most recent love,
And, yet, my click increases their income.
It does even their occupation support
At no apparent loss to me. Who would grudge
The weary life of a journalist, who grunts
And sweats to uncover, to celebrities’ dread,
The undiscovered secrets of who sleeps with whom,
And no voyage to the E.R. unnoticed,
Puzzling which ill drugs did dispatch
Ms. Lohan to a rehab center we should not know of.
But  conscience does make cowards of us all,
And the unexpected visit from my boss,
Tarnishes the luster of the link,
Turning my mouse away ere with a click,
I turn the link a dark purple the rest of the day.
And thus, fair work project, I return to thee!
Be all my procrastinations so fruitless.

The Wit of the Hunt

One of the differences I noticed between the West and New York is that in the west, people really like taking pictures of themselves with dead animals. In particular, with an animal that is dead because the person in the picture killed it. I saw a lot of those photographs in restaurants or rest stops (Restaurants in New York prefer to take pictures of their food, or perhaps of the owner with celebrities they are about to kill with their food, but rarely dead animals). Unless there's only one deer that has modular antlers that everyone passes around and makes slight modifications to for their trophy picture, there's a lot of hunting that goes on out west. I won't judge the hunting; I'm not for it, but I understand some people enjoy it, some people need to do it, and some people can turn live animals into jerky, which is a good thing for everybody but the animal. So, don't worry, people who take pictures of themselves with recently dead animals, I'm not judging you.

What does bother me is when people refer to hunting as matching wits with an animal. I'll judge those people. There's a lot that's wrong with saying that. To begin with, animals don't have a great sense of humor and won't appreciate witty jokes, but most people who attempt to match wits with animals are trying to accomplish their goal by shooting the animal, which no animal finds amusing regardless of whether or not it has a sense of humor.

More importantly, if you really want to match wits with an animal, you need to do something that gives the animal a level playing field. I could suggest a few games. For instance, you could stand by a river next to a bear and try swatting fish out of mid-air. Whoever gets more fish wins (I would also suggest losing, because bears are notorious sore losers). Alternatively, you could hang out with an elk until one of you gets eaten by a wolf (the winner being the one who does not get torn to pieces). Or, you could play Uno with a mountain lion. Whatever you want.

However, hiding behind camouflage structures and shooting at an animal from a half a mile away does not constitute a level playing field. If I hid behind a friend's furniture (being sure to stay downwind of the fan so as not to alert him of my presence by my scent) while he was out and then shot him as he walked into the room, I doubt he would refer to that as "matching wits" with him. "Haha! You jokester you, you out-witted me!" would probably be the last thing I would expect him to say.

So please, in the future, be honest with yourself. You're not matching wits with an animal just because you're hunting it. If you're looking for ways to describe your relationship with the animal, how about stalking? Sure. Spraying bullets at? Ok. Ambushing! All acceptable way to phrase your activity.

And whatever you do, don't get me started on people who feel the need to match wits with fish.

Light vs Dark, or, Why Mankind Should Not be Allowed to Make Decisions

As a race, we are fundamentally incapable of making up our minds. You've probably noticed this about yourself at some time. I know I feel this way every time I stand in front of a vending machine, which is why I always try to push every button at once and hope that the first button I press is something I like (this rarely happens. Normally it's something gross, like Milk Duds).

I was struck by the indecision characteristic to our entire species when my little brother pulled the shades down the other night.

See, I live in a city. At some point, people decided it was a problem that night was dark. Obviously, it would be better if everyone could see things at night, so they put a whole bunch of streetlights in, and then everything could be bright all the time! Problem solved!

But then, people (probably the very same people) realised that it was harder to sleep when it was bright out all the time, so they put shades in their room, meant to keep the bright light that they made outside stay there, and not sneak its way inside where it isn't always wanted. Second problem solved!

At this point, it didn't seem too ridiculous to me. Then I realised that this continues. Some people, inside their shade-darkened rooms, walk around at night, and don't like stepping on things. So, the nightlight gets invented! But heaven forbid that the nightlight be too bright! They put covers on the nightlight to stop it from shining too much! Of course they did! An uncovered nightlight would be too bright, thus making the shades useless, which were put up to keep the light from outside (which were put there because the general consensus was that it was too dark outside) from making things inside bright! DAH!

Which brings me to my point, namely that as a species, we should constrain our decision making to trivial matters (e.g. Do I want Vienna Fingers or a Snickers bar?), and leave the important decisions (anything that could possibly affect anyone/thing else, ever) to a species better suited for decision making. Maybe dolphins. 

New Year's Reservations

Now is that weird time of year when everyone comes up with New Year's Resolutions. Supposedly, these are promises you make to yourself to help you become a better person. Several friends have asked me what my resolutions are. My answer is almost always the same: none. I happen to be perfect*. But really, I find it silly how people resolve to be better once a year. Of course, it's the same as being good for Christmas; it only works within a few weeks (at best) of the day. Telling me not to give children noogies in July is because Santa is watching is no more likely to stop me from giving a child a noogie in July because I resolved on January 1st that my noogie-giving days would be over (as if I would ever resolve something so foolish).
*haha

There are a few resolutions that I've heard a few times though, and I'd like to explain why I refuse to make any resolutions along these lines.

1) I resolve to go to the gym more often.

Gyms are not pleasant places. The Jews left Israel because Pharaoh was making them lift heavy things (really). Why would I return to servitude willingly? Resolving to go to the gym more often would be equivalent to me resolving to be unhappy more. I'm just going to resolve to think about why I dislike the gym so much, so that I feel better about not going to the gym.

2) I'm going to drink less alcohol.

Jesus drank wine. Heck, Catholics believe Jesus is wine. I don't want less of Jesus in my life. If you're really insistent, I will resolve to drink on an empty stomach more. That way, I can drink less, and still have all of the positive effects. Everyone will be happy!

3) I'm going to get my life organized.

Sure, a little order in my life is nice. I have separate drawers for various articles of clothing, and most of the time, the right clothes make it into the right drawer, but that's about as far as I'm willing to compromise here. An organized life is a boring life. I relish the adrenaline rush that comes from never knowing where anything I value is. I resolve to spread this pleasure into other people's organized life.

Honestly though, I'm opposed to New Year's resolutions because they're rarely New Year's resolutions; they're mostly New Year's Day's resoltuions, or, if you're ambitious, New Year's Week's resolutions. There's no reason to only try to be better once a year. I'm going to keep getting better at mandolin, get faster at running (again), and enjoy my last semester at school as much as I can before venturing out into the real world and getting a job. Nothing new about those resolutions.

If there are any resolutions you hear that you laugh at, let me know. I do love me a bit of mockery. On the flip side, if you can convince me that you have a meaningful resolution, let me know!

Hope all is well, and happy New Year!

ps. I also resolve not to nearly burn down the house and ruin tea pots while writing blog posts.

Guilt Inducing Advertising

I have a lot of respect for the men who make good advertisements. I suppose this comes from a few reasons. Firstly, some of them are paid to make people laugh and buy things (sort of like what i wish would happen to me). In that way, they're like street performers who are never hassled by police. In another light, these ad-men who work on Madison avenue (Mad Men, if you will. Huh, that's sort of catchy sounding. Maybe I'll make a TV series about it.*) are paid to prey on our deepest desires and fears. Sort of like what the boogey-man would do if he were to ever sell out and stop hiding in my closet, playing my desire to go to the bathroom against my fear of being eaten by him.

*Wait, really? They already made it? Damnit.

Of course, every now and then, this backfires, and the Mad-Men make a commercial that I find so offensive that I boycott the product. Blockbuster was recently guilty of this. Not that it matters to them; I go to Blockbuster about as often as I start conversations with pretty girls I don't know. But anyway, you can see the offending commercials here and here.

Basically, the commercials point out that Blockbuster gets new releases instantly, while you need to wait for them from Netflix. I resent this on two levels. First, the ad is appealing to my desire for instant gratification, my greed. They are implying because they are suggesting that I cannot wait for a movie, and that I should not have to. Unfortunately for them, this doesn't work. Previews released long in advance of movies ensure that I am highly skilled at waiting long periods of time for movies. Furthermore, I resent that they assume my appetite for instant satisfaction is so large that they think I'll fall for it. Acknowledging that at some level, this appeal works makes me feel guilty. At this rate, I'll wait an extra 28 days after movies are released to Netflix just to spite Blockbuster.

More importantly, this commercial doesn't work for me because the things in questions are things I am used to waiting for. Anyone who has been in an ER knows that 28 days is a pretty accurate estimate of how long you'll be there before someone sees you. Similarly, a restaurant that makes you wait 28 days is something I would personally like. Once a month is about how often I go out to restaurants. I would just drop by the restaurant one month before I intended to go; this sounds pretty easy to deal with to me. Waiting 28 days for a dentist gives even more of an excuse not to ever go to them (as if I needed more excuses not to visit someone who stabs me in the mouth).

If they really wanted to make this commercial work, they'd make it something that I'm absolutely unable to resist for 28 days. I don't know what that is, but I can tell you this: it's not showering.

Hope everyone is enjoying the holidays!

Rant Against Earphones

This post may cost me a few friends, which, when you have as few as I do, is a serious issue, but it's something I believe in strongly. I hate it when people walk around listening to earphones. Bear with me.

Don't confuse my dislike of earphones with a dislike of music. I like music more than I like candy, even though it's more difficult to lure children into vans with music. I listen to and play music regularly. Music is not the issue. The issue is when people walk around using earphones, thus making me appear even more awkward than usual. If you're asking "Brendan, how is that possible?" I'd probably reply "How is it it possible that I can appear more awkward than usual, or how do earphones make me appear more awkward than usual?" If you're asking the first question, just know that it's possible. But if you're asking the second question, then get ready for my rant (please imagine that I have accosted a stranger in earphones and proceed to scream the following at him, because this is how it goes in my head...).

So how far are you walking that you need to have music lest you get bored? Is this a casual-walking marathon that has just been poorly publicized? And do the rules specifically stipulate that you are not allowed to talk to fellow competitors or take any interest in your surroundings? Also, how many songs can you even listen to on what I imagine is your six minute walk? Are you just going to pause whatever song you're listening to midway when you arrive at your destination, or are you going to try to find a song that is exactly as long as your hike will take? Maybe you should just listen to something like Hey Jude by the Beatles and just stop when they're all singing "na na na na."

I could go on and on, but I suppose I should explain the roots of this antipathy against earphones. You see, a good portion of my social life relies on chance encounters* with friends. The idea is that either I see my friend, or my friend sees me, one of us somehow attracts the other's attention, and then we hang out. This works great when both of us are paying attention to our surroundings, as opposed to something like, say, Blink-182**.

*borderline ambushes

**In fairness, if you're listening to Blink-182, I probably don't want to talk to you anyway.

Trouble begins once earphones get involved. It normally goes down something like this: I see a friend. I shout the friend's name. My friend keeps walking, because my friend is listening to loud music only he or she can hear. I call my friend's name again. This continues until I realize that the person is listening to music, and I just didn't know about it. Now that I've shouted really loudly a couple of times, people start looking at me, wondering where the noise is coming from and why the source is outside of an asylum without at least a straight jacket.

At this point, I have a few options, none of which is too attractive.

a) I can continue to shout louder and louder, hoping each time my friend will hear. But seeing as my friend is walking away by now, this isn't likely.

b) I can chase down my friend, full speed, and tap him on the shoulder. That's great, because people didn't think I was desperate enough already.

c) Explain to anyone who looks at me funny that the Borg has taken over my friend, and that resistance is futile. That must be why he isn't replying to me.

d) Have a nervous breakdown, and hope that someone will comfort me.

Compare this to what the casual observer would think if everything had gone according to plan, and after hailing my friend once, he or she came over to talk to me. See what a difference that would make to me? This is exactly why I can't stand earphones.

There is, however, one time when wearing earphones is acceptable. There have been countless times when my dignity has been saved thanks to them. These often occur on public transportation. The situation is this: I'm busy working up the courage to try to go talk to a pretty girl on the same train. This is difficult, because not only do I need to work up the courage, but I also need to dismiss all of the logical arguments against it (e.g. You will probably make a fool of yourself. What if she's a man? She'll probably bite your head off, etc.). It's at the pivotal moment right before I'm about to try to make conversation when I notice that she is wearing earphones. "Oh well," I tell myself. "Can't go talk to her. She's wearing earphones. Next time."

But seriously. Don't wear earphones for those five minute walks you go on. You're ruining my social life and my reputation as potentially sane.