Interstate Firework Roundup

After a 1-week cross-country journey by car, I realized that the United States is about 20 or so major cities held together by a thin ether of cows, pornography and fireworks. In between patriotic billboards and barns urging me to vote Republican so the terrorists wouldn't team up with Jesus to send me to hell, I found that fireworks outlets, and more importantly the unstable personalities that lay claim to them, pose a greater threat to America than any turbaned evildoer. At their unbelievable prices and with their vast, vast arsenals, what's stopping Nervous Charlie from strapping $20 worth of M-80s (probably about a well-placed daisy cutter's worth of damage) to a teaspoon of plutonium and irradiating New York City for centuries? Not much at all, I'm afraid. Here's a terror alert rundown:

Krazy Kaplan

Is it the reckless disregard for basic safety that demonstrates his true insanity, or is it the unbelievably low prices? Let the American marketplace decide.

Location: Jail Mental Asylum 1 Mile West of I-65 in the broad daylight of Indiana


Summary: The most depraved individual on the Indiana interstate, which is kind of like having the highest shooting percentage on the Harlem Globetrotters or being the lamest person at a Nickelback concert. We don't know much about Krazy Kaplan outside of the fact that he wears a straitjacket and an American Flag stovetop hat while somehow offering a lit firework to you, the consumer. How did his craziness become the stuff of 14 billboards' worth of legend? Did it have anything to do with LSAT prep courses? The answers to these questions remain as elusive and enigmatic as the mysterious generosity that accompanies his insanity, allowing him to provide a wellspring of explosives to anyone in the state of Indiana. Given his heavily publicized mental affliction, it can only be assumed that he has a special affinity for terrorists and other sowers of discord.


Threat Level: Very high. Though not necessarily misanthropic, his sheer charisma can easily rally the likes of Nervous Charles and even the normally reclusive Sad Sam to acts of unspeakable cruelty.

Sad Sam

We sure had a good laugh tonight, but depression is a serious problem that afflicts millions of Americans yearly.

Location: A lonely corner of Cross Plains, Tennessee

Summary: America has not conferred the blessings of Outworld Capitalism on Sad Sam, who needs to seriously dry them up because he looks like he's doing alright for himself. Sad Sam secludes himself to the side of the Tennessee interstate (I-65!), where he self-medicates his depression by selling beef jerky, gourmet candy corn and thousands of fireworks that are probably illegal in every state but Tennessee. Boo hoo.

Threat Level: Low. Depressed though he is, Sad Sam is nearly unmatched in overall stability. He is rivaled only by Syphilitic Eddie, who roams the foothills of Tennessee, leaving M-80s and Roman Candles under the pillows of good little boys and girls who still have 10 working fingers.

Nervous Charlie

Too nervous to have a wacky mascot. Too many witnesses, too many witnesses, is that guy in the white car watching me? How about the plastic ape? Oh god. I knew this fireworks emporium on the side of the interstate was a bad idea. Keep a low profile, Charlie, keep a low profile.

Location: A safe distance off I-65, in a non-descript firework hut on TN-52. Password: The dogs run at midnight.

Summary: This is easily one of the more ramshackle fireworks retailers you'll find in a cross-country interstate trek. There's no garish lighting scheme, no bells and whistles, and only two billboards to let you know it exists. Nervous Charlie's anxiety problems keep him on the side of a state highway, away from the immobilizing stream of headlights that launch a full assault on attention whores Krazy Kaplan and Sad Sam. Don't let him fool you though. Those billboards show an undoubtably shaky set of hands about to detonate a generic firework of some kind. The message? "Don't push me. My name is Charlie and newsflash: I'm nervous. Who wants to buy some explosives?"

Threat Level: High. It's worth mentioning that one of the billboards says Nervous Charles and the other says Nervous Charlie, which might betray a multiple personality disorder of some sort.

New Gladiator Wednesday: Hoplomachus

Hoplomachus (left) rests on his spear and clutches his salad bowl of a shield. They weren't usually that convex. Meanwhile, the murmillo, who looks like he's giving the finger to the referee, is actually tapping out. He's done fighting for the day and might be executed.

The hoplomachus was another gladiator with pretty decent range. Like the retiarius, he had three weapons: a spear, a gladius and a circular shield that doubled as a blunt weapon. Stylistically, he resembled the Greek hoplite (the guys from 300), but in a caricatured way. He was frequently pitted against the heavily armed murmillo, but also occasionally against the thraex, a hoplomachus clone who fought with a square shield instead of a round one. Unlike the retiarius, the hoplomachus fought with a helmet.

Strategically, a protracted battle tended to work in the favor of the lightly armed hoplomachus, who could wear down the heavy murmillo if he was patient and kept his distance. Against a thraex, however, the fight would have come down to ballet and spearwork, with the occasional shield bash to keep him honest.

So Long, Old Friend

Mario capes his way to mediocrity, while Captain Falcon falls victim to the old trick yet again and rushes off to probable suicide. Kirby gets intimate with the turtle and the first member of the DK crew characteristically milks the animator for all he's worth.

Tomorrow it will be different. The music will be just a little bit off. Voices will have changed. Catch phrases and victory slogans will have been altered. Favorites will be chosen. Levels will be deactivated. Consensuses will emerge on the targets of nerfing and overpowering. Different Pied Piper-esque melodies will be drawing college freshmen into that dorm room down the hall like so many rats. Above all, Super Smash Bros. Melee will have gone the way of its father, into the Elysian Fields with Guitar Hero II and other games that have been rendered obsolete by their progeny.

And yet, Brawl will be bigger, badder and better. More characters, more levels, tighter control, most of the things we know and love about Melee will have hopped on the bus and be ready and rearing to go once Brawl emerges in all its glory.

So, when all is said and done, what will we miss?

• Peach's down+A. Specifically, being on the right end of it. More specifically, knowing that if you had a lack of scruples or specific motivation (use your imagination), your opponent could be at 75% faster than you could say C-Stick, which is about the amount of time it takes to use your C-Stick 54,000 times.
• Watching people kill themselves using Mewtwo's energy ball and not taking into account the physical properties involving action and reaction that magically apply to Pokemon, but not babes in robot suits.
  
• Ganging up on Kirby so no one got a one-way ticket into the yawning abyss of his gullet, in which judgment was swift and clemency was a mere illusion.
  
• Looking at Icicle Mountain gathering dust on the stage select screen.
  
• Secretly liking the D.K. rap, but only after the second listen.
  
• Being able to make dinner and write an essay in the time that it takes to taunt with Young Link.

That said, let's now toast the death of millions of hours that could be spent curing cancer.

Viva Brawl.

Hillary throws her party under the bus

This false meme about Obama not having enough experience for the Oval Office is growing tiresome, and is being manipulated by the Clinton campaign to outrageous effect. The general election is coming up. This is a chance to put a dent in the "legacy" of 8 years of Bush League Republicanism, namely an overwhelming climate of fear and oppression, a $2 trillion war, an expectation of cronyism and incompetence in political appointment and substantially diminished international standing. That's just a spoonful of the mountain of excrement America is under right now. That's how high the stakes are.

And with that in mind, what does Hillary do? Suggest that John McCain is more prepared for the presidency than Obama is.

This is the tipping point. It's a potent attack readymade for Republicans: that someone in Obama's own party thought John McCain would make a better president than he would. If you think this footage is going to gather any dust in the runup to the general election, I've got a war with Iran to sell you.

It breaks down like this: McCain means that 8-year legacy we were talking about swells up into a 12-year legacy. Right now the Democrats in part represent frustration with the blatant disrespect for America shown by that legacy, which was bad enough when it was a 4-year deal.

We don't have two candidates that represent a complete repudiation of that. Obama certainly does. Hillary just wants to be president, and she's going to put the costs of her ugly campaign on her party and the country, whether they can afford it or not. Who does that sound like?

Revenge of the Indoor Kids

This picture should win a Pulitzer for being a perfect substitute for actually reading the story.

So was this kid homeschooled or is he just weird? I wonder how many armbands they ordered, and I suspect this article's not going to result in him being beat up on the playground any less.

New Gladiator Wednesday: The Retiarius

Astacius gets 1500 XP, a sweet armor drop and an unlockable costume (top left), but misses out on DK mode.

The retiarius, or "net-fighter," fought helmetless, armorless and with three weapons: a weighted net, a trident and a dagger. He fought the heavily armed and armored secutor exclusively. His chief strategy consisted of keeping the secutor at bay with his trident while trying to ensnare him with the net. The dagger served as a last resort if the first two weapons were lost, or as a means of finishing off a badly wounded secutor. Ideally, the secutor would tire himself out chasing the retiarius in hot sun and under heavy armor, and retiarius could jump in to finish him off. Early in the fight, close combat invariably resulted in the retiarius getting cut to pieces by the secutor's short sword.

Packers 17, Halflings 3

All of these guys would be better QBs than Aaron Rodgers.

In a strange moment in Wisconsin history, Brett Favre announced his retirement on the same day of Dungeons & Dragons creator Gary Gygax's death. One happened in Green Bay and one happened in Milwaukee, but both are sure to spur some interesting displays of mourning, hopefully on at least one occasion by the same person at the same time.