Chicago, USA.

It's almost time for the Olympics.

A complete license to print money.

Slap the five-circles on it, it'll sell like hotcakes.

As if people believe that if they consume product-X, they'll be able to luge.

There are perhaps twenty people in America who know how to luge. They love the Olympics because once in every four years they actually get the chance to hang out.

I keep waiting for cross-over events.

I want to see the biathletes shoot the curlers. They are easy targets.

They say that the Olympics are not about politics. But then again, all the International Olympic Committee members are mostly political appointments.... and the athletes wear their national colors.... and they play for national pride.

Here in America, other countries do not exist.

We accuse the other athletes of taking American-made suppliments and performance-improving substances even though all of our athletes are sponsorted by beer, tobacco and pharmaceutical companies.

We hype up the events we always win and ignore the ones we always lose.

We drink grain alcohol out of our commemerative gas-station Olympic cups as we try to figure out whether the winner of the Superbowl will get a medal or not.

Chicago, USA.

Hamas is divided into two main spheres of operation:

(1) Social programs like building schools, hospitals and religious institutions.
(2) Militant operations carried out by Hamas' underground Izzedine al-Qassam Brigades.

One of these things is not like the other.

This goes against one of the key rules of modern advertising. Always keep your messaging constant under the same brand. Separate those messages that may not be congruant in the mind of your audience.

This is why companies like Altria try to segment their messaging by marketing various products under different brands. For example, one called Kraft and one called Marlboro.

No one would buy cheese from Marlboro. No one would rely on the Marlboro man for their daily intake of calcium and nutritious goodness. The thinking is that Pulmonary Malignancy and Strong Healthy Bones should be kept separate in the mind of the consumer... therefore a split brand approach.

Fool the people. Sell more shit.

All the stuff still comes from the same people, we just forget about that when we eat those delicious processed cheese slices.

So anyways... Hamas managed to get themselves elected in the Palestinian Authority without the need to distance themselves from the blowing-up-innocent-people approach. This says a lot about the mindset of the Palestinian consumer. It's essentially a validation of all the death and destruction as being in the name of the people. Really quite directional stuff.

So, the bottom line is that the middle east is still fucked but considerably more so that previously thought.

The solution.

Reality television.

A fourteen week long program that pits the finest in Israeli and Palestinian talent against Kelly Clarkson. A panel of judges featuring Paula Abdul, Randy Jackson, Simon Cowell and the artist formally known as Golda Meir. Hosted by Yassir Arafat's cyrogenically frozen severed head.

An "idol" for those who do not worship idols.

Chicago, USA.

The eyes are the window to the soul.

That's the rumour.

Sometimes we don't always see the same things.

I once was set up on a blind date with this woman who was "unlike anyone I had ever met before". That's what I was told. I guess it was true.

She didn't have eyes.

Well, she had these pink things that were in the right place, but they clearly didn't work and calling them "eyes" would be a complete misnomer.

As mentioned earlier, going to the eye doctor in November was the greatest thing ever.

Not only was I able to instantly realize that I had been more-or-less living blind, the experience transcended the purely perceptive nature of ocular dynamics and really changed the way I think.

I don't worry about shit anymore.

Live in the past, get left behind.

Chicago, USA.

One of the best things about living in America is that the rest of the world doesn't exist.

I've been asking people if they want Martin or BonHomme to win the election up in Canada.

One of these two characters is a giant inflatable snowman.

He's winning the straw poll.

Fun times south of the 49th.

Chicago, USA.

Remember the 1980s?

Remember the Bon Jovi video for "Wanted: Dead or Alive"?

Remember how cool their rock-n-roll lifestyle looked?

Yesterday, Bon Jovi's private jet skidded off the runway at Hamilton International Airport in Canada. They were flying in from Buffalo, New York. A forty five minute DRIVE away.

Bon Jovi flies on their private jet for arguably walkable distances.

Their life has devolved from Rock-n-roll fantasy to cartoon wonderland.

Their life is fantastic.

They also have good hair.

Except for the guy who looks like a rat.

Eventually they'll just replace him with an extremely expensive robot.

I wonder if they fly to dinner? Or to the mall?

These are the questions that consume the mind at night.

How does Bon Jovi go to the mall?

A sleepy sunday.

Chicago, USA.

"Good God."

People always say that.

James Brown even says it... but when he says it "God" sounds all funky and cool and shit. Like some cool kid who's smoking a cigarette after shoplifting.

It's not really that impressive of a statement. After all, the word "good" is derived from "God", just as the word "evil" is derived from "Devil". Just as the word "Burgler" is derived from "Hamburgler".

The knee bone's connected to the leg bone indeed.

Anyways...

The idea of having to state that your Lord is "Good" is positively ridiculous. It's much more novel to say something like "Bad God" or even "Passively Indifferent God".

If one is to believe that God is the maker of everything and king of the world, then calling him "good" is somewhat redundant.

Joan Osbourne once wrote a song called "One of Us" which is impressive partly because of the God-as-simpleton subject matter but mainly in that it is one of the only covers that Prince has ever performed. If Prince covers your shit, then you've genuinely earned the extra leap day of life once every four years. There were two songs in the 1990s that dealt with anthropomorphism, the other being Dishwalla's "Counting Blue Cars" which didn't really do much for me aside from making me less cool just by having it enter my ears.

I don't particularly understand certain things about the world.

Like the need to publically reaffirm your faith or lack thereof.

It's massively ridiculous.

It's like the Gatekeeper running around Central Park looking for the Keymaster.

Chicago, USA.

Everything is very mumbly-jumbly.

I find myself eating "Asian" food almost every single meal here in America. Meanwhile, there are people in the far east who subside on a diet of Hambugers and Pizza every day.

East is west. West is east.

Could it be that the predefined labels are actually switching? Isn't it sacreligious to call something a "California Roll"? Isn't it the same as calling it a slice of "Singapore Style Deep Dish"? How soon before we have "North Dakota Rolls"?

Everything should be made into smoothies.

I still fail to see how food has a location associated with it. I don't see how pasta is Italian, I don't understand how the Indians have an ownership on curry powder, I don't see how the Mexicans somehow possess the power of the Avacado.

Also, why is all the food imagery associated with these menu items based on complete comic-book stereotypes of a place. Italian restaurants always have images of wide vistas of Tuscan landscapes, Mexicans are always portrayed as margarita loving sombrero wearing party animals, Ethiopains are always shown in their National Geographic glory and never shown hungry and dying while at famine-infused civil war.

Then there's the idea of fusion food. Mix it all up. It seems as though if you can mix more than two countries together and successfully get away with it, you can charge eight times the price. I'm strongly condering opening the first Canadian-American fusion restaurant. The best things from both cultures.... lots of maple syrup taste, deep fried and shot in the neck.

Chicago, USA.

The "Hello Kitty" phenomenon is relatively unexplained.

That expresionless little cat. All innocent looking and precocious.

Although originally aimed at the pre-adolescent female market, the Hello Kitty logo now adorns products from toys, purses, stickers and pen sets to toasters, televisions, clothing, massagers, computer equipment, and more. In Japan she has even been featured on adult sex toys so as to circumvent strict Japanese laws against such items. Given Hello Kitty's immense popularity, if an item can contain an image of Hello Kitty, then a Hello Kitty version of that item has been produced or is probably in planning.

I propose a brand extension.

Meet Hello Kitty's more slutty, Texan cousin.

Cowboy hat with a touch of pink.

"Howdy Pussy".

Chicago, USA.

I'm watching this ridiculous segment on the Today Show this morning.

Some self-proclaimed "fashion guru" is telling us all about how it's so hip and cool to be like a Geisha. How Geisha culture is really in style these days.

Ok.

Isn't a Geisha a Japanese sex slave? Some obiediant costumed woman who will fulfill your every desire? This is in style?

The woman on TV tells us that being a Geisha is all about "Style and Sophistication". I always thought that it was about having dirty sex with rude foreign businessmen for money while dressed like a Cirque Du Soliel performer.

I really have to go to Japan. I hear that the "Detroit Crackwhore" look is really hot there.

Chicago, USA.

It's like that feeling that you get the moment after the balloon pops.

Whatever is going to happen will happen.

I was once told that the secret of life is the ability to deal with any contingency that may happen. The key to being successful is the knowledge that you have the power to cope with anything that may get in your way.

There are things that you can control, and things you cannot.

Once you learn that, the rest just falls into place.