" /> BRAINPAN LEAKAGE
  • Duct Tape…

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    NOTE: This blog entry has been edited. None of the original material was removed, however there have been comments added. You will find them italicized and within parentheses. For the record, I did remove my note of 1/19/11 instructing people to stop trying to engage me in pedantic pissing matches over the origin of duct tape just because they are humor impaired. I’m still instructing you all to not engage me in pedantic pissing matches whether you are humor impaired or not, so that hasn’t changed. However, I thought maybe I’d add some more to it… Here goes.

    It seems that there is a sudden upsurge in searches for both Duct and Duck Tape. Per the search terms logged it would appear that there is a rather robust “duct/duck tape fetish” community out there. Wish I’d known before writing this particular entry. Probably would have been much funnier than just the serial killer and stupid people angle. At any rate, due to the enormous number of searches leading to this entry, I have been taking heat from some folks who want to point out to me the errors in this piece. It seems they didn’t get the satire. In at least one instance, said individual even elected to be especially nasty about it. For the record, the name/email address he/she entered remained intact. That was not my doing. Obviously it was aimed at me, but he/she missed.

    So here you have it. The original blog intact with some added commentary to help the humor, satire, and parody impaired. You probably don’t know who you are, but trust me, we do.

    *     *     *     *     *

    Have you ever wondered about duct tape?

    I mean like wondering why it’s so popular with serial killers, kidnappers, and the like? At least, that’s how it is on TV. Oh, and just so we are all on the same page, no I’m not a serial killer. Nor am I a kidnapper. Never even played one on TV. Yeah, yeah, I know… I write fiction novels about them, but that’s different.

    Also, just so we have our ducks in a row, we are talking about duct tape. Not duck tape. “Duck” tape doesn’t exist (Yes, actually, it does). Duct tape does. (Yes, actually, it does too.)

    I have a friend (yeah, I know, amazing eh?) who worked in the music biz as a road manager. Her husband still does, and he handles cameras, lights, and all that jazz. Big deal stuff. They actually swear by “Gaffer Tape.” This stuff is great… You see, gaffer tape is kinda like duct tape on mega doses of steroids. In fact, it makes anything major league baseball players have been using to jack themselves up look like a placebo. Seriously. My friend has even noted that gaffer tape will hold someone on the side of a tour bus, at highway speeds, for at least 50 miles. She refuses to go into the exact details as to how she knows this, except to say that she has irrefutable anecdotal evidence. My guess is someone made her mad and she taped said individual to the side of the bus. She’s dangerous like that… In fact, she and E K get along really well, which is pretty scary.

    She also tells me that it works great as a depilatory too – as long as you don’t mind losing the first three layers of skin along with the unwanted (or even wanted) hair. Good thing she’s never given a roll to E K, or I might be bald…

    But, as usual, I digress…

    The thing here is duct tape. It was originally designed to seal up duct work, hence the silver/grey color AND the name, duct tape. Makes sense all of a sudden, doesn’t it? I mean, “duck” tape was really kind of a WTF kind of name, dont’cha think? After all, what would a duck need with tape? Besides Donald, I mean. And, even though they make glue out of horses, and gelatin out of beef, it was really hard to fathom making tape out of ducks. (This part here, in bold, would be the joke. The part where it talks about making tape out of ducks. If you don’t find it funny, hey, no worries. I don’t hit them ALL out of the park, and we all have different sense of humor, as you will see below…)

    So, anyway… I think maybe I need to run down to my basement and grab up a roll of duct tape to keep right here on the corner of my desk.

    Why?

    Because, like I said at the outset, it seems to be the prime choice for serial killers and kidnappers – not only as a restraint, but to keep their victims from screaming for help. Just slap a slice of the ol’ silver sticky stuff over the mouth and no sound escapes. Of course, these days if you happen to be a more fashion conscious criminal, designer colors are available, but I’m a purist. Just give me the silvery-grey stuff and I’m good.

    But, I still haven’t answered your question, have I? I mean, why would I need duct tape on hand?

    Exactly.

    “Huh?” you grunt.

    I need it for my hands. I figure if it works to “gag” victims, maybe I can tape my hands together so I won’t be able to get myself in trouble by answering stupid emails. (This would be yet another part of the joke. For, as you can plainly see from the comment thread below, I didn’t get out my roll of duck, duct, 100 mile per hour, gaffer, scotch, masking, packing, or any other tape soon enough.)

    Of course, it might not work. I might need something stronger. Wonder if my friend has an extra roll of gaffer tape laying around… Something in a nice, yellow “caution” sort of color would be good…

    More to come…

    Murv

    NOTE: In reality, Mister Arendt, who commented below, has the real story.  Apparently, however, he didn’t see the humor in my post since I revised history for my own uses. Regular readers here know when to take a post seriously – which isn’t often – so I can only assume he was new to the Leakage. For the whole story about DUCT/DUCK tape go to http://www.ideafinder.com/history/inventions/ducttape.htm

    Mister Arendt’s Canadian counterpart didn’t see the humor either. I had once heard a rumor that Canadians, as a general rule, were the most polite people on the planet.  That has been my personal experience up until now…


  • Pedanticoritis…

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    In order for this to make sense, I really have to start with a couple of definitions…

    Rhetorical Question: a question asked solely to produce an effect or to make an assertion and not to elicit a reply.

    Pedantic: overly concerned with minute details or formalisms

    Remember those. They might not make sense right away, but they should if you just keep reading… In theory, anyway…

    So, here’s the thing – many years ago I read a Sci-Fi novel… yes, actually I have read many Sci-Fi novels, but this one in particular has something to do with my inane rambling today… Unfortunately, I don’t recall the title of this  book, but I do remember the gist of the story. Basically, due to the constant expansion of the universe and the fact that we are simply traveling through it, our solar system emerged from some manner of interstellar radiation cloud that was acting as a damper on our brains. In short, it was making us stupid. So, as Earth moved out of the cloud, people with sub-par IQ’s became what our current definition of “normal” seems to be, those with “normal” IQ’s became geniuses, and those who were already geniuses made a sudden leap to a level that made Einstein and Marilyn Vos Savant look like toddlers.

    Well, apparently this wasn’t Sci-Fi after all, as it seems we have started to move out of the “Stupid Zone”. Unfortunately, it also seems my head is still  hanging out in the clouds, so to speak.

    Allow me to wax poetic as to why I think this…

    Lately, it seems as if a good number of folks have become absolute, raving geniuses, whereas I have remained utterly stupid. I say this because they are pointing it out to me constantly. And, at the same time they turned into these super geniuses, they were also infected with the “pedantic virus” and are now suffering from debilitating cases of pedanticoritis. (Yes, I just made that up…)

    Now, I am sure you are wondering just what the evidence may be that has led me to this bizarre conclusion?

    Simple. The humble rhetorical question.

    I ask them. I ask them all the time. I tweet them, I use them as status updates on BookFace and Myspank. What’s more, I ask really off-the-wall rhetorical questions. Things like, “why don’t grapefruit taste like grapes?” or “did you ever notice hot dogs don’t actually contain any dog?” – Things so outrageous as to not even beg an answer. The only way to make the joke any more obvious would be to put flashing lights around it with a giant arrow and sign that reads, “EAT AT JOkES.” (Hopefully everyone got that…)

    So what is my point here? Again, simple. People are answering me.

    Now, if folks were answering me with equally as silly answers it would be one thing, but instead they are answering me with serious, in-depth, incredibly ostentatious explanations. What’s worse, more than a few of them have adopted “What, are you stupid or something?” attitudes to go along with them.

    I suppose if I was up on stage at a comedy club, then maybe folks would get “it”. But in all honesty I’m not so sure they would…

    Which brings me to this…  Even though it would seem that my head is still floating around in the “Stupid Cloud” while everyone else has moved on to the land of “Brainiac”, I figure it’s only fair for me to point out something that may have been missed.

    I’m nowhere near as stupid as I look.

    Yeah. I know. Hard to believe isn’t it? I mean, after all, I look like a big, goofy moron. But in reality the opposite is true. I actually have some highly developed skills, which may be considered archaic by some, but still serve me well. Things like the ability to operate a Dictionary… Encyclopedias… Reference books… (don’t tell anyone, but I actually know where several branches of the public library are located.) And, when I’m really feeling lazy, I look up things on the Internet, cross reference the sources, and voila… And, if that’s not enough, I really and truly can count to ten without using my fingers. Amazing, I know, but I really can. Just ask E K. She’s literally witnessed this incredible feat.

    And, just in case you might not have noticed, I tend to joke a lot… And by a lot I mean A LOT

    So, the next time you happen across my FB page, a random tweet, or even run into me at a bookstore and I say something like, “You know, I wonder if pine cones are just baby pineapples?” you’d probably be better off to not offer an explanation as to why they aren’t.

    Why? Because I will just point and make fun of you. Believe it or not, there’s a very good chance that I’ll be better at it than you are…

    More to come…

    Murv