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Squirrel Violence Grips Illinois
Erik Deckers
Laughing Stalk Syndicate
Copyright 2006
I like nature and the creatures that live in it, provided they stay away from me. I'm what the outdoor-types call a Wilderness Wuss. In the wilderness, there are grizzly bears, timber wolves, snakes, and, squirrels.
Squirrels aren't vicious, you say? Piffle! Squirrels are ravenous, terrifying beasts. Just ask Marcy Meckler. She was attacked by a squirrel at an outdoor mall in Skokie Illinois two years ago.
According to an article in the Chicago Sun-Times, Mary was at the Old Orchard Shopping Centerhad one morning in December 2004. She had just stepped out of the Tiffany and Co. jewelry store, when a squirrel tried to steal her purse at knife point.
Okay, that's not true. She actually said she "had a squirrel jump up and attach itself to her leg."
Pretty scary, right? You bet. If it had been me, I would have screamed like a girl and whipped my pants off faster than a groom on his wedding night. So Meckler's reaction is understandable: she "frantically attempt(ed) to escape from the squirrel and detach itself from her leg."
However, she must not have been very good at it, because Meckler "fell and suffered severe injuries."
And that's why she's suing Westfield Corp., owner of Old Orchard. She wants $50,000 to compensate for the injuries that will cause her to "in the future endure pain and suffering in body and mind."
Pain and suffering? Body and mind? What did that squirrel do to her? Sure, maybe she had some gouges and scratches. I could even buy a leg injury, like a torn ACL or sprained ankle if she fell just right. But how does one suffer emotional anguish from a friggin' squirrel? Did it commit identity theft and buy thousands of dollars of electronics?
We'll probably never know, because Meckler's lawsuit conveniently does not say what injuries she suffered, other than unspecified "internal and external" ones. So that makes one wonder what she'll use the $50,000 for? Hours of physical therapy? Deep psychological counseling to help her overcome her fear of small woodland creatures? A credit counselor to restore her credit score?
And why would she blame the mall? How does a squirrel, who woke up one morning and found that his home had been replaced by a Cinnabon, become the responsibility of the Old Orchard Mall?
According to the suit, it's because mall personnel "were aware of the longtime presence of said squirrel on the premises and allowed the squirrel to reman on the premises, despite the fact that the squirrel had previously attacked and harassed other customers, a fact known to Westfield."
Ignoring the fact that Meckler's attorney writes run-on sentences that would make William Faulkner weep with jealousy, how does knowing about the squirrel make it their fault?
Apparently it's because mall personnel "encouraged the squirrel to remain on the premises by feeding and caring for the squirrel, despite the dangerous conditions that arose from allowing said animal to remain on the premises."
Squirrel: Dude, do you mind if I crash here for a while? My house smells like cinnamon rolls.
Mall Employee: Sure thing. Here are some blankets. There's beer and pizza in the fridge, and you can sleep on the couch.
Squirrel: Thanks, man. Can I play your Nintendo?
Mall Employee: Yeah, just don't go jumping on any customers.
Squirrel: No promises.
Maybe, just maybe, feeding a squirrel would teach it not to be afraid of humans. By overcoming its fear of humans, it wasn't afraid to approach one and give it a nice big hug. (On the other hand, maybe it was defending its nest and eggs against intruders.)
But what really takes the cake is that the suit says the mall did not "warn the plaintiff of the squirrel's presence."
How in the name of Marlin Perkins do you warn against being mobbed by a small woodland creature?
"Excuse me, ma'am, before you leave, we want to caution you against being attacked by wild squirrels, eaten by lions, or run over by a bear on a bicycle."
If you had to warn every customer about every possible source of injury, they'd never be able to leave. Instead, people should just practice common sense rules of caution as they go through their day.
Look both ways before you cross the street. Always wear your seat belt. Lift with your legs, not your back. Don't take candy from strangers. And never overreact to an overly friendly squirrel.
It's the weasels you need to watch out for. They charge an upfront retainer and take a third of the damages.
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Erik Deckers
(published week of December 1st, 2006)
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Silent Night, Fat Chance
Erik Deckers
Laughing Stalk Syndicate
Copyright 2006
"Okay kids, we need to buy one more Christmas present for Mommy. We don't have much time."
"No, Honey, Christmas isn't tomorrow."
"It's in two weeks, Sweetie."
"That's 14 days, Buddy."
"Don't worry, we'll get our shopping done in plenty of time. I'd like to get it all done tonight if I can."
"Because I hate being at the mall during Christmas season."
"Because I don't like big crowds of people."
"Because it's hard to keep track of you three when -- Buddy, where'd you go?!"
"GAAH! Don't do that, dude. You nearly gave Daddy a heart attack."
"Yes, it's funny that you hid behind me. Please don't do that anymore."
"Come on, you guys. Let's go see what we can find for Mommy."
"No, Honey, we can't go to the toy store."
"Because we're looking for Mommy's presents, not yours."
"Because we already got yours."
"I'm not telling you that!"
"Because it's a surprise."
"A surprise is when something is unexpected or startling."
"Yes, like when your brother hid behind me. Speaking of which, Buddy, where are you?!"
"GAAH! Dang it, dude, quit scaring me like that!"
"Yes, I know you were hiding."
"I know you didn't hide behind me that time. Where did you hide?"
"Ah, the pants display. Very clever."
"Uhh, no, I never did that when I was a kid."
"What do you mean, 'lying makes Baby Jesus cry?'"
"Sweetie, I'm not lying. You can ask Grandma the next time you see her."
"You will? Oh. Well, maybe I did do that once or twice."
"No, Buddy, we can't get a Thomas the Tank Engine for Mommy."
"Because she doesn't want one."
"I don't know. Because she doesn't know how to play with it, I guess."
"I'm sure you could show her. But we're still not getting it."
"Because you shouldn't give things to people that you really want in the first place. That's called a Lloyd Gift."
"Put your lip back in. A reindeer might land on it."
"Never mind. Don't worry, you'll get some nice presents."
"No, I'm not telling you what you're getting."
"Because it's a surprise."
"We went through all that while you were hiding, so I'm not -- hey, where's your sister?"
"Honey, get out of the pants rack."
"Because we don't have a lot of time left."
"Now, let's try this store."
"Hey, bookstores aren't boring!"
"You guys like the library, right?"
"Well, this is like the library, but you have to pay for it."
"I don't know, Sweetie. Maybe a mystery novel. There's a new one I -- er, she hasn't read."
"She does too like mysteries."
"Umm, since always?"
"Fine. How about a new cookbook? I've been in the mood for Italian food lately."
"That's right, Buddy, 'sgetti."
"What about this? Do you think Mommy could make that?"
"Impose gender-based expectations?! Where did you hear that?"
"That's it, no more C-SPAN for you."
"Okay, let's go over to this store."
"What about candy? Do you think she'd like some candy."
"What's her favorite?"
"No, I don't like that so much."
"What? Did Mommy coach you on what to say?"
"Because you sound just like her, that's why."
"No, Buddy, we're not getting those."
"No, Honey, not those either."
"No, Sweetie, not those either."
"Let's try that store. Maybe she'd like a CD or a movie."
"I don't know. What does Mommy listen to when you guys are in the car?"
"Eww, I'm not getting that."
"Not that either."
"Because that stuff's about as unhip as 'West Side Story.'"
"Never mind."
"Wait, I know. Let's get the 'Dodgeball' movie."
"Trust me, she loves it. She's seen it before."
"No, Honey, you guys can't watch it."
"You know those words Daddy says when he hurts himself?"
"They say those words in the movie. A lot."
"Yes, a lot more than Daddy!"
"No, you can't say those words."
"Buddy, don't say that."
"Don't say that either."
"Because children shouldn't say those words."
"Uhh, because it makes Baby Jesus cry?"
"Yes, I suppose He cries when Daddy says them too."
"Because I -- look, we're running out of time! We need to get one more present for Mommy. Come on."
"Wait, look over there."
"Wow, look at that, Buddy. It's perfect."
"That's what we're getting, Honey."
"Yes, Sweetie, she'll love it."
"Hold on, my phone is ringing."
"Hello?"
"We're still at the mall."
"Finishing up the Christmas shopping."
"Why, what time is it?"
"Just keep it warm in the oven. We'll eat it when we get home."
"I don't know, a couple more hours."
"You shouldn't say that."
"Because it makes Baby Jesus cry."
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Erik Deckers
(published week of December 8th, 2006)
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Gobbledygook, Drivel, and Tripe, Oh My!
Erik Deckers
Laughing Stalk Syndicate
Copyright 2006
As we bring closure to the annual calendar, it behooves us to examine the various linguistic gaffes that occurred over the past 12 month period.
See what I did there? In one sentence, I've already ticked off the folks at the Plain English Campaign. They're the language watchdogs who campaign against "gobbledygook, jargon and misleading public information." (For the record, what I said was, "As the year ends, we should look at poor language from the past 12 months.")
The Plain English Campaign monitors good and bad language usage. They give out the Golden Bull Awards -- awards for "the worst examples of written tripe" -- to people who offend their sense of plainspokenness, as well as several other awards for clear language usage. This year, they gave out seven Golden Bulls and 20 awards for clear language.
One of this year's seven Golden Bull recipients is Australian writer and academician Germaine Greer. She won for a recent arts column in The (London) Guardian, in which she said, "The first attribute of the art object is that it creates a discontinuity between itself and the unsynthesized manifold."
Personally, I don't see what the problem is. I've long been an outspoken critic of unsynthesized manifolds, and the damage they can do to our roads, rain forests, and family structure. Besides, who doesn't know the heartbreak of art object discontinuity? They have pills for it now, but it still carries a stigma for many people.
But the Plain English Campaign is steadfast. Spokesman Dave Smith (a nice, Plain English name if I've ever heard one) told Agence France-Presse, "it I wanted to know more about art and read something like that, it would put me off."
(For the record, "put me off" is British slang for "turn me off" or "deter me." Five point penalty to Dave for using non-universal slang.)
But Dave's minor slip pales in comparison to some of the other Golden Bull recipients, including corporate recruiters Wheale, Thomas, Hodgins PLC, who floored me with this little doozie:
"Our client is a pan-European start-up leveraging current cutting edge I.P. (already specified) with an outstanding product/value solutions set. It is literally the right product, in the right place at the right time. . . by linking high-value disparate legacy systems to achieve connectivity between strategic partners/acquisition targets and/or disparate corporate divisions. The opportunity exists to be the same (i.e. right person etc. etc) in a growth opportunity funded by private equity capital that hits the 'sweet-spot' in major cost driven European markets."
Translation: "New company needs new employee. We have money."
Unfortunately, some people never learn. This is Wheale, Thomas, Hodgins' second Golden Bull Award. They received their previous one in 2001.
But the PEC is more than just giving Golden Bull Awards to people who wouldn't know Plain English if it bit them on the butt. They also highlight the best of spoken gobbledygook by giving the Foot In Mouth Award. This year's winner is supermodel and personal assistant beater Naomi Campbell, who said, "I love England, especially the food. There's nothing I like more than a lovely bowl of pasta."
I'll leave jokes about whether a single noodle constitutes a "bowl" of pasta for another time. I'm more curious about when pasta became an English dish. Fish and chips, yes. Bangers and mash (sausages and mashed potatoes), absolutely. Linguine, Fettuccine, and vermicelli, uh-uh.
Campbell could not be reached for comment, as her phone had recently been broken by her assistant's head.
But her legendary temper notwithstanding, Campbell should be proud of her gaffe, as she managed to beat out President George W. Bush with his entry on the six-party talks with North Korea: "One has a strong hand when there's more people playing your same cards."
I may not know much about poker, but I do know that if someone has my cards, my odds of winning are dramatically decreased, not increased. Unless I'm cheating.
Unfortunately, plain writing isn't easy. It takes a lot of skill. Watch a master carpenter at work, and you'll see what I mean. He makes the most simple tasks look easy -- hammering nails in just a few strokes, or cutting wood laser straight with a handsaw. Meanwhile, the novice builder bends nails, cuts crooked, and can't understand why it's all so hard.
It takes practice. Just like the master carpenter who has built houses all his life, you need to practice writing in Plain English every day. Use simple words, remove unnecessary words, and write in short sentences.
You'll discover that as you hone your skills on a recurring, if not daily basis, you will have become proficient at the otherwise-elusive simple sentence structure, and can easily demonstrate your mastery of the written word.
(Translation: If you practice a lot, you'll get good.)
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Erik Deckers
(published week of December 15th, 2006)
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I Don't Believe In The Little Drummer Boy
Erik Deckers
Laughing Stalk Syndicate
Copyright 2006
Erik loves to celebrate Christmas with his traditional rant against one of his least favorite Christmas songs, The Little Drummer Boy. This column has been reprinted every year since 1998. While he admits to a special place in his heart for the Bob Seger version, he still loves to pick on the little kid with great rhythm, but no sense of decency.
Christmas is one of my favorite times of the year. My birthday, my anniversary, and any other occasion where people give me presents are also big favorites.
To get myself into the Christmas spirit, I like to listen to Christmas music. So I hit the department stores around mid-August to hear "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" and "Jingle Bell Rock." But while I appreciate the Christmas cheer, I'm amazed the sales clerks haven't killed anyone by mid-November.
I'm a big fan of the classics, "Jingle Bells," "Silent Night" and the Sex Pistols' "Have Yourself a Merry $%@&! Christmas." But there are a few songs that, given a choice, I'd attack my radio with a pick axe before I listen to them.
One of my least favorite songs is Bruce Springsteen's live version of "Santa Claus is Coming To Town." It's nothing but 20 minutes of Bruce singing "Santa Claus is coming to town" over and over and over. By the time Bruce finishes his Yuletide droning, Santa is already back home, slamming Upside-Down Margaritas with the elves.
But the worst Christmas song ever, the song that makes me want to sleep straight through to Easter is "The Little Drummer Boy." Not only does it repeat the same annoying phrase over and over -- pa-rum pum pum pum -- but the song is wildly unbelievable to begin with.
I realize songs about a fat guy sliding down chimneys or a flying reindeer with a 300-watt halogen nose aren't believable either, but at least they're grounded in reality.
So what's wrong with the song, you're probably asking. Glad you asked.
First, drums do not go "pa-rum pum pum pum." They do not make pleasant little melodies sung by children's choirs. They make headaches. Drums go "KA-WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP!"
Second, when the Little Drummer Boy asks Mary if he could play a song for the Baby Jesus -- pa-rum pum pum pum -- no one says, "Wait a minute! He's just going to pound a drum. Somebody stop him!"
I believe the gift of music is one of the greatest gifts, because it comes from the heart. (Unless you really wanted that big screen high-definition TV.) But when your newborn baby has finally gone to sleep after screaming for 6 hours because his bed is made of straw and smells like cow poop, do you really want someone going "ka-whap whap whap whap!" at him?
So what did Mary do? She just nodded, -- pa-rum pum pum pum -- listened appreciatively, and smiled quietly to herself.
Not being a mother myself, I can't speak for other mothers. But I'll wager your Christmas gifts that if you've been riding on a donkey for several days, and spent the last 36 hours in labor, the last thing you want is some snot-nosed kid beating a drum at you. The song should say "Mary leaped off her stool and chased the little brat away, pa-rum pum pum pum. "
Third, did the ox and lambs really keep time -- pa-rum pum pum pum? Not likely. Oxen are tone deaf and lambs have a poorly-developed sense of rhythm. Besides, the drum in question was made out of ox or lambskin, so they would not have appreciated the irony.
Finally, then He smiled at me -- pa-rum pum pum pum? Uh-uh. I have an easier time believing the ox and lambs doffed top hats and sang "Puttin' On the Ritz." How would you feel if you had been removed from a nice warm womb and stuck in a bed of itchy, smelly straw so some jerk could beat a drum at you?
Try it for yourself. Find a newborn baby and start pa-rum pum pum pumming on a pot with a couple of wooden spoons. I guarantee he won't smile, he'll shriek. If he smiles, he's colicky.
I'm all for the magic and wonder of Christmas. But I know mothers. And I know babies. And I know mothers don't want anyone speaking in conversational tones around their babies, let alone pound drums at them.
Gift of music or not, beating on a lambskin stretched over a hollow log is not something a new mother wants to deal with. I realize we're talking about Mary, the mother of the Messiah, but everyone has a limit to their patience. And little drummer boys whose sense of rhythm outweighs his common sense way past that limit.
So if you're ever in the mood to serenade a newborn baby and his mother with anything noisier than a single blade of grass, don't. Trust me on this. If you really want to be helpful, give the mom something useful, like a set of ear plugs and a weekend's free babysitting.
Pa-rum pum pum pum.
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Erik Deckers
(published week of December 22nd, 2006)
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How to Engineer Impactful Deliverables
Erik Deckers
Laughing Stalk Syndicate
Copyright 2006
It's that time of year when geeky humor columnists throughout the world (okay, only me) quiver with anticipation at what the new year will bring.
Last year's poor language usage reports.
A few weeks ago, I wrote about the Plain English Campaign, and their annual Golden Bull Awards for non-plain English writers. Not to be outdone, the Global Language Monitor (GLM) are releasing their own world's worst language examples for 2006. And like any good humor columnist stuck for a topic, I leapt at it like Nancy Grace at a murder story.
GLM released their list of Most Politically Incorrect Words of the Year, with "macaca" coming in at number one. That was the word used by now-former Republican Senator George Allen of Virginia to describe a Democratic activist who had been following him around on the campaign trail.
The term "macaca," which also means "monkey," is an offensive slang term for people from India's sub-continent. So naturally, the activist S.R. Sidarth -- an Indian -- was offended, and the media swarmed over Allen like sharks at a Nancy Grace feeding frenzy. Many pundits, including GLM president Paul JJ Payack, believe Allen's outburst contributed to his loss in the election. That, and the fact that most people voted against Republicans this year.
"Global Warming Denier" was second on the list, referring to someone who denies the existence of global warming, refusing to accept all scientific evidence and opinions of 99 percent of the world's scientists. These people are commonly called Rush Limbaugh.
"There are now proposals that 'global warming deniers' be treated the same as Holocaust deniers: professional ostracism, belittlement, ridicule, and even jail," Payack said in a recent Reuters story.
I don't believe we should throw global warming deniers in jail, but I could get behind a little ridicule and belittlement of people who insist on denying years of scientific evidence. They should be painted with the same brush as people who still think the Earth is flat, that we never landed on the moon, and that "Puff the Magic Dragon" is not a song about marijuana.
Making an appearance as the third Most Politically Incorrect Word is "herstory," which is used as a substitute for the word "history" by radical feminists who gnash their teeth whenever someone uses the word "woman" instead of "womyn."
"Herstory" was created to remove all forms of male dominance from the regular word "history" by the same people who use the word "ovarimony," when they mean "testimony."
Unfortunately, they're rebelling against the wrong word.
"When Herodotus wrote the first history, the word meant simply an 'inquiry,'" said Payack.
You just can't argue with Herodotus. Or should that be Hisodotus?
But if they're offended by the "his" in "history," why did they leave the 'S' in "herstory?" You can't spell "his" without an 'S.' After all, it's tainted with man cooties, so they should have just removed it completely from their new word.
Of course, then you would have "hertory," and that's just as stupid as the original idea.
But my annual word watch is not just about whether words are politically correct or not. There are those annoying corporate buzzwords which pollute our language.
Buzzwords are those words people use to make themselves sound like business experts. Unfortunately, they sound like deranged executives freebasing on past issues of Ad Week.
But what if you're one of those corporate execs who need to cultivate impactful face time with your infomedaries? How can you facilitate best-of-breed interfaces? How can you tell your stakeholders about the latest strategy to synergize new mission-critical methodologies without sounding like a complete clod?
Not to worry. There's a tool for Corporatese newbies at Dack.com, called a BS generator, which I used for the previous paragraph. (Actually, it's a satirical Web site, and not actually intended for real business use.)
Just go to www.dack.com/web/bulls***.html (I'll let you figure out what the *** stands for), hit the Make Bulls*** button, and you'll create your very own Corporate BS with the click of a button.
Need to reorganize your company? Tell everyone you're going to "reintermediate cross-media bandwidth." Want to figure out how to make more money with your marketing? You need to "monetize 24/7 mindshare." And don't tell people you're trying to make things easier to use. Instead, say you're "orchestrating user-centric models." After all, nothing says "making things easier" than a 10-syllable phrase.
But despite my best efforts at ridiculing and belittling, Corporatese and other language mangling grows unchecked. It's like emptying a lake with a thimble. Only with the assistance of groups like the Global Language Monitor and Dack.com can we stamp out poor language usage.
Of course, if we succeed, that will create a problem for humor columnists like me, whose very reason for writing depends on these language abusers.
I'm not worried though. I'll just proactively repurpose my functionality.
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Erik Deckers
(published week of December 29th, 2006)
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