|The Common Man|
The world is an unfair place. People get sick and die without any help from medical research. Every day we see grants get delivered to scientists for things like how cold sheep get when they’re sheered or the influence of horse socks on the effectiveness of horse shoes. The common man like you, me, and Clint Howard wonder why these projects are getting hundreds of thousands of dollars every day while worthwhile things go unstudied. Sure, we all hear about things like curing cancer, solving baldness, and saving the great white whale, but there are plenty of things those eggheads could research for us. I’ve taken the liberty of compiling some of these unfavorable situations in the common man’s day to day life.
How sweatshirt danglies get uneven
One item of every common person’s wardrobe is the sweatshirt. Whether it be zippered, fleece, or pull-over, everyone knows the world’s most comfortable clothing item. But with great comfortableness comes slight irritants, as Peter Parker’s Uncle Ben was fond of saying. Before he died horribly and needlessly due to the indirect actions of his nephew, of course. The only con of sweatshirts comes as dangling, pullable, hood-closers. Often times, these strings of fabric are uneven, and one has to fight the design of the sweatshirts themselves in order to even out the strings. Having completed their task, the wearer of the sweatshirt sits back, and relishes in the evenness of their accessories. However, the next time that person looks down, the strings are back to being uneven.
Scientists, leave your mice, caffeinated cheese, and hair-creating bacteria behind, and pick up this problem. How can a string be so hard to move by my effort, but later, defy at least 2 ½ of Newton’s laws of physics? “Durrr I’m just going to start moving without any force acting upon me.” Stupid strings. Ruining my favorite garment.
How knots are formed naturally
Christmas lights. What did you just picture in your mind? Maybe a joyous morning filled with family, reverence, and general happiness. Wrong. If you’re like me, or Clint Howard, you think an hour spent untangling those brightly colored lights that no one will notice. When scientists decide they’d rather spend time researching if people have ESP by testing them with pornographic images instead of researching how these tangles happen, Clint Howard gets just a little bit uglier.
|WHAT HATH SCIENCE DONE!?|
Whether it be Christmas lights, iPod headphones, or extension cords, no matter how tightly and carefully you wrap a long, linear object, it will only come out tangled and knotted. The box you store these things in will sit in the garage, totally still for ten months at a time, but yet, inside, strange physics are taking place. Cords are wrapping around themselves, doing knots only a Boy Scout with no life would know how to handle. (Read: all Boy Scouts)
Why women keep marrying Larry King
I mean, honestly. Suspenders on the Crypt Keeper.
|"Baby, the man looks like a frog!" - Scrubs|
Jetpacks as a concept have been around longer than actual space travel. Why can we say “Oh, let’s put seven people on that big ol’ rock up in the sky, along with a car and some golf clubs. Just to see what’s up there. My money’s on rocks, but Johnson says BIG rocks,” but we can’t figure out how to get that common man over there a backpack that makes him fly with rockets. Flying with rockets is only second in coolness and awesome-osity to flying without rockets… or wings.
Instead of focusing our transportation research on the next coal burning scooter, let’s get America’s top scientists on this. President Obama called this age “our generation's Sputnik moment”. Let’s pretend that those damn rooskies have already invented a jetpack made out of empty vodka bottles and are currently testing it on chimps. That’ll make sure we get NASA off their butts studying why the Horsehead nebula doesn’t simply eat the Hay Bale asteroid belt, and into the real world designing backpacks to revolutionize travel, and make it easier for white men to dunk.
Why cats are such jerkbags
When buying a pet, you’re probably like me. You think “Let’s get an animal that can climb on any surface in the house, doesn’t respect or listen to us, and just displays general contempt on all human actions happening around it. Also, it pukes up its own body hair.” Just kidding. I’m not that dumb, unlike cat owners. It never fails to astound me how people have the option of buying the most loyal, useful, even the most adorable animal that can be domesticated, and instead by a cat.
|"I despise you. Now feed me."|
But enough about those people who buy cats, why do cats act the way they do? It doesn’t make evolutionary sense. According to domesticated house cats, the best way to get humanity to feed and shelter you is to treat them like they’re beneath you. And believe me, I can tell you from dating experience, that is not the best strategy to earn your way into another person’s home. Maybe in ancient Egypt, all of that “cats are God” business went to their head, and modern cats won’t let that idea escape. Perhaps now that Egypt has fallen on such hard times, people will finally abandon the idea of cats as deities. Uh oh- they could go the opposite “we had it better when we were worshipping cats” route, and return to their feline blasphemy ways, which means cats will never act like the mortal jerks they are. Speaking of cats…
How best to domesticate new animals
Since the start of civilization, we’ve had basically two choices on animals pets- jerkbag cats, or awesome, cool-as-sunglasses dogs. Why are we satisfied with this limited choice? Is it because dogs are so awesome? Probably. But I submit to scientists, with their studies of the effect of marijuana on work ethics, instead research how we can get new pets in our homes. Wouldn’t the population of gorillas skyrocket if they could be safely kept in American suburban homes? But for my money, I’d either domesticate a grizzly bear, or, if I was in the mood for something huggable, a raccoon. Those little guys are so adorable I can’t stand it. They have hands for goodness sake. I could teach my raccoon to give a firm enough handshake to get a job. You look like a robber, and you’ve stolen my heart, raccoons.
|Guuuuhhhhhh... This amount of cuteness makes up for Clint Howard.|
He doesn't go here, but he just has a lot of feelings,