Seemingly, I Already Know What’s Under Those Clothes

Posted on 9 January 2010 by Larry Russwurm

Those new airport scanners that reveal the naked you are still stirring up controversy. The scanners show people as naked who walk through them and are also supposed to reveal things such as explosives in your underwear. People seem most concerned about the naked part and worry that this image might be made public somehow.

Right at the start, the security people are saying they’ll blur all faces that go through this machine and that the person checking the image will be in another room and not be able to see the person who has been scanned.

Still mistrust exists and some people will refuse given even the best security measures with their image. They will need to exit from this line and submit to a pat down. But I offer my services to airport security in order to avoid some of those pat downs.

In another time (1993 – 1994), I used to draw political cartoons. I had to get a likeness of various people and commit it to paper. Being lazy I just did the likeness and didn’t bother to turn it into a caricature. Given time and a pencil and paper I could get a likeness of those people getting a pat down.

Then I could extend each drawing down. And make them naked. Now it’s true that I never really will see anyone naked so I’d have to guess what’s hidden. I’m sure I’d be wrong about nipples, tattoos, shaved/unshaved areas, scars, moles, and genital sizes. But if I gave the average, considering the shape I can see, I could give the picture to people who’ve seen you and they would think I’d seen the real thing. And since the point of this whole exercise is shaming, I’d give each man very small genitals.

Airport security, wherever you are, hire me or another realist artist and we can get more and more people to use the new scanners. I’m not inexpensive but after all I might get compliance with your new security scheme, and isn’t that almost priceless?

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Picking

Posted on 2 January 2010 by Larry Russwurm

It’s something I find quite amazing. Why is it that everyone’s finger is always smaller than the diameter of their nostrils? Throughout the ages this coincidence has led to nose picking, a habit that is deeply frowned upon in polite society. Officially I don’t pick anymore but I must say there is a temptation involved when I think of it.

Is there some magic ratio that relates finger size to nostril size? For instance a man with thick fingers couldn’t pick the nose of a preemie and in fact I don’t want to see this tried due to the delicateness of a little baby. Yet all through our lives, we are able to pick and that delicate nostrilled preemie might grow up to be that thick fingered man.

Looking at the close animal world of the dog and cat, say, we find that this is not a universal animal kingdom thing. Dogs and cats have much smaller nostrils and certainly their paws or foot digits couldn’t get up there. But aren’t their claws suspiciously the right size? With a cat, I suspect that unfortunately these animals would shred the skin of their delicate nostrils. Maybe a dog could get away with it but fortunately they don’t and are allowed in polite society.

So then, why us? Did God or evolution have something in mind? Maybe, just maybe we were made to pick. When we breathe in through our noses contaminants such as smoke or pollen or sand get somewhat filtered or blocked by our nose hairs. Picking would then “recharge” the filter or blockers. Sounds plausible. Then why don’t we always breathe through our noses instead of our mouths. Perhaps some people do and they are closer to what evolution intended.

If this was the original story then maybe it was found that open mouthed activity was more important as with talking. Thus we lost the nose breathing advantage.

And even in polite society, it must be pointed out that having a booger is even more a sin than picking one’s nose. So perhaps it is best to pick that booger away and then act like nothing happened.

Join us next week when we discuss how suspicious it is that a normal arm is just long enough for us to wipe our butts.

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With the World as My Witness, I Shall Never Eat Fresh Again

Posted on 25 December 2009 by Larry Russwurm

In social predators it happens time and time again that there is a top or alpha predator. Usually this beast gets dibs on the prey. Drunk with prestige, they think they are the top predator and to the victor goes the spoils.

But are the rest of the predators stupid? Surely they must know that together they can capture the choicest morsels. Or maybe they are acting intelligently.

After all if the food is bad, the one that eats first might fall down first with illness before the others have eaten. Thus, it is possible that the alpha beast is just a glorified food tester. The freshest taster is nothing more than a guinea pig.

But, you say, humans are brighter than this. After all, royalty is quite well known to have food and drink testers to ensure the safety of their meals.

Just as I do in my vow not to eat fresh.

When there is a food recall, who is it that dies or gets violently sick? Why, those people who have eaten the freshest food. If they had waited a few days to eat, maybe they would have known of the recall and not gotten sick. This is exactly where my procrastination tendencies pay off. I don’t go out of my way to eat the freshest foods. The food I buy is usually eaten in order of my cravings. And rarely do my cravings go according to the freshness of my foods.

So it is only with a slight effort that I now vow never to eat fresh again. You, large world, are my official food taster. And unlike kings and queens, I don’t have to pay you a cent.

But I end now on a note of caution. Obviously food can sit too long and become dangerous on the overripe side. So I must take pains to strike a balance, oh food testers of mine.

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Experimenting on the Rich

Posted on 20 December 2009 by Larry Russwurm

Perhaps you too have thought about laser eye surgery to fix nearsightedness or other common ailments. I remember when these surgeries first came along. One comment from my older brother stuck with me: “Let them experiment on the rich first.” Presumably the technicians who do these procedures would get better and better and cheaper and cheaper until we would obviously want these surgeries, too. Of course, back then my brother could afford to wait – he had perfect eyesight. I didn’t but the philosophy intrigues me.

What a way to go in a capitalist society. We can let the rich experiment on themselves and pay a premium for the privilege. Entrepreneurs managed to kill two birds with one stone. Sure the lucky rich get a return of perfect eyesight before anyone else but not all of the rich have been so lucky.

So when cell phones successfully invaded and all I had was a landline, I didn’t cry myself to sleep at night because I didn’t have one. Researchers are still doing experiments on the rich and it still seems up in the air whether cell phones can cause brain or other cancers and tumours. Personally, I think some of the studies that say ‘no’ are pushed by the cell phone ‘military industrial complex’.

Still I wonder if some of the rich have learned about being experimented on. Third world countries now have some cell phones. These are some of the first phones they’ve ever had. Apparently it’s cheaper when starting from scratch, to have the odd cell phone tower here and there.

So some of the people being experimented on with cell phones aren’t rich. Still I have the luxury of looking over the stats before I ever get one. And indeed if I ever get a car again I deem getting one to be a necessity. Not for talking while driving but for a much more important use. It’ll help if I ever get totally stranded.

Experimenting on the rich; this is the one thing that makes me feel not so poor.

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You Found Me

Posted on 20 December 2009 by Larry Russwurm

I hope that this will not be the last time you find me.

I’m not sure why you’ve arrived at this crotchety site that has rant right in the title, but, let me assure you that if it is possible to apply pressure and temperature to hair to make diamonds, here we apply the same temperature and pressure to turds and hope we find at least a few diamonds.

The real fun begins when we create things that cannot be described as diamonds or turds. Things that make you say “Wha?”

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