Not what you want to see

This is a link to a seriously twisted story and You Tube video. It is a two year-old Indonesian toddler puffing away on a cigarette. British media outlets broke the news about Ardi Rizal, who allegedly smoked his first rocket at eighteen months under the watch of his father, Mohammed, thirty. The boy’s habit hasn’t escaped public notice in Sumatra, Indonesia. Reportedly, concerned local officials have offered to buy the family a car if young Ardi quits smoking.

Census Taker

As you may have noted, dear readers, the Census is going on, every ten years the Federal Government counts how many people are living in the United States. Not by estimating or projecting or sampling and extrapolating, nope they map the location of every residence in the United States, and mail them a questionnaire. If the questionnaire is not sent back, they send someone door to door to follow-up and do an interview. Most times in probably does not goes as bad as things do in this old Christopher Walken Saturday Night Live skit. Sorry about the crummy video quality. If anyone can find us a better video we will gladly post it.

NASCAR at Charlotte Motor Speedway

One of the Clarion Content's crack local contributors was out at the Charlotte Motor Speedway to catch her second NASCAR race ever this weekend. She snapped this hilarious picture with her cell phone camera.



Ahhhh, the revelry at a NASCAR event. Our correspondent is also an EMT, she verified that this woman was indeed still breathing, if hammered. Apparently her equally inebriated husband had left her on the ground and gone inside to catch the race. When asked if she was okay, the woman was able to nod her head yes, although because she was unable to lift her head while nodding, the process likely caused more grass and mudstains to appear on her face.

Premature Death

Premature death, the death of young or middle age people always kicks the Clarion Content in the teeth. As loyal readers know, the Clarion Content felt deeply the passing of actress Brittany Murphy. Earlier this week we were shocked and saddened to read of the death of Murphy's widower, Simon Monjack. Maybe we just don't read enough US Weekly, maybe we are not on TMZ as frequently as we could be, but dang, we did not see it coming and we cannot help but wonder and speculate on the interconnections of their passings.

Murphy's death from what is known as polypharmacy, the administration of excess prescription medications, was tragic and probably avoidable. Monjack's death has been called a heart attack, but one wonders what might have weakened his heart? Grief and stress have untold power. Self-medication is not the answer. People die anonymously from depression and prescription drug overdoses every day. All we can hope for is that these kind of sad passings are a lesson learned, not a life lost alone in a vacuum, or worse yet, a terrible course to be imitated.

When Google image searching the phrase, "Too many prescription drugs," images of Murphy, Michael Jackson and Anna Nicole Smith all come up on the very first page. Don't go that way! If you are depressed, get help.

Poem of a Lost Generation

This brilliant poem by Jonathan Reed has received more 13 million views on You Tube.



Thanks to the Morris County New Jersey contributor who sent it our way!

What do you call your boy toy?

Our esteemed guest correspondent recently returned from Ethiopia and you might think that a guy like that would not have extra time on his hands for speculation like this. But you would be wrong. Without further ado, we give you the lexicographical musings of J. Coop.

I recently took a flight from Cairo to New York. Now, on solo domestic flights I generally make a point of avoiding conversation with my seatmates. Experience has shown that there is at least a 70% chance that the person is from a Great Lakes state and that they are visiting their (great aunt / second cousin / parakeet phone pal) on account of the recent (birth of their third child / refinancing of their home / loss of their tooth). Not only that, but by replying, “Fine, thank you” to their “Hi, how are you?”, you may have unwittingly invited a lengthy recounting of their thoroughly unremarkable family history. Best to have a book handy. When the hilarious exploits of your seatmate’s house pet become tedious, the conversation can usually be ended with a brief sideways glare and something to the effect of, “What was that? I’m sorry, I was having trouble hearing you over this fascinating book I’m reading.”

On this particular day, I suppose I was feeling generous and friendly, because I did indeed enter a dialogue with my seatmate. After all, I figured the risk was reduced, as most people can’t afford the upkeep of international parakeet phone pals (to say nothing of the language barrier). My seatmate was a pleasant American woman, probably in her 50s, and incidentally from the Seattle area, so we had something in common. Given the circumstances, there were the natural questions about what had brought the other to Cairo. I told her I was sightseeing on the way home from a business trip, and she told me that she had been traveling with her . . . partner, the final word said not with a literal wink and nod, but with an intonation that implied it. Not being familiar with the established insinuations of her generation, I was at a loss. What could be the meaning behind this bizarre emphasis of a perfectly ambiguous word? Was she referring to a business partner, or was this more like a “pardner”: an ally in times of cattle-wranglin’, whiskey-swillin’, and six-shooter-shootin’? Was she trying to tell me that she was gay? The word choice had left me confounded.

Fortunately, I had the good sense to keep my confusion to myself. I was able to deduce from the continuation of the conversation that this particular usage of the word could be defined something like this: partner, n. [pahrt-ner]: A gentleman bachelor, close in age to the woman, with whom she is romantically involved.

Here, dear reader, is where I beseech you for your advice and assistance. We must find a word with a more specific definition to be used by ladies in the situation of my seatmate. This word must grant her the ability to better communicate the nature of her human relationships to louts such as myself.

I’ve put some thought into this, and have yet to come up with a satisfying solution. For more mature persons, it’s understandable why the terms boyfriend and girlfriend might not be preferred. Fortunately for the seasoned and sophisticated man, there is always the option of referring to his female counterpart as a ladyfriend. After all, a girlfriend may be cute and flirtatious, but a ladyfriend is experienced and knows what she wants. Rawr.

But what is the male equivalent of a ladyfriend? The obvious response would be a gentlemanfriend, but that doesn’t roll of the tongue. Also, the term manfriend is right out, for reasons I can’t quite put my finger on. Guyfriend, maybe? That’s still sort of boyish, but maybe could work. I dunno, I’ve got nothing else. So I’ll put it to you, standardized test analogy style:

Girlfriend : Boyfriend :: Ladyfriend : ???

(This should go without saying, but I better not hear a suggestion of “lover” or any phrase with “lover” as part of it. That term just makes me cringe, and it’s a word you just don’t want to hear come out of anyone, unless it’s Will Ferrell in an SNL skit.)

Ironman 2

Is anyone else irritated by all the Iron Man II advertisements? We do not mean the standard commercials for the movie, but rather the insidious product placement and fusion campaigns.

The Clarion Content has seen Ironman II footage and/or characters fused with ads for Dr. Pepper, Burger King, Audi and the NBA. It bugs that the movie is too present; it is everywhere, but because it is the sequel to one of the biggest movies of all time (sorta), we understand and expect that to happen. What is truly vile is the level on which these product placement ads cheapen the character and plot integrity of the movie.

This is not a new trend in the movies, the Clarion Content's editor grew up in an era where they ditched a planet of Wookies for a planet of Ewoks because they thought the toys would sell better. We would argue however that it is an additional iteration, another level, to see the Iron Man fused with the Burger King or to watch Tony Stark hop in an Audi like a real celebrity. This fusing of the fictional and the commercial eats at the core of story-telling. The willingness to suspend disbelief for a good story runs 180 degrees reverse course of humanity's hardened attempts to disbelieve advertisers. Getting sucked into a good plot is not supposed to make you one of P.T. Barnum's suckers.

This chafes our consciousness.