X-Bow

According to Wikipedia, the crossbow is a type of weapon based on the bow, consisting of a horizontal bow-like assembly mounted on a stock, which shoots projectiles called 'bolts' or 'quarrels'.  The crossbow, as it's come to be known, has played a significant role throughout history, especially in the greater European and Asian continent, as well as the Mediterranean region.

The traditional bow and arrow has been a common tool since the dawn of recorded history, which required considerable strength and skill to master.  Comparatively, the crossbow possessed much of the same accuracy, but required much less training and expertise.  In ancient and medieval times, the bowmen were considered to be of a separate and superior caste, while just about anyone could be drafted to use the crossbow.

In the modern day, the crossbow, like it's cousin, has transformed and evolved many times, still as common and popular as ever.  Today, it is used primarily in sport and hunting, and with the popularity of The Walking Dead's Daryl Dixon, played by Norman Reedus, a whole new interest in the crossbow has been sparked.

The crossbow has always proven it's worth throughout the annals of time and I'm certain it will continue to do so, long into the future, whether there's a zombie apocalypse or not.  Where it seems to be a useless weapon, in my humble opinion, is sometime long long ago, in a galaxy far far away from our own.

In the Star Wars universe, Wookiees were a civilization advanced enough to have developed modern tank-like weapons and the ability for space travel, yet many of their hand-to-hand combat weapons in their arsenal, were still of a primitive-based design.  Bow staffs and spears were used in addition to laser blasters and cannons.  The crossbow is also a popular weapon used by the Wookiee armies.  It seems peculiar, to me, that the Wookiees had the foresight to develop stronger more destructive weapons, but still avoided casting aside their more inadequate weapons.  Though I never looked real close during the war on the Wookiee planet in Episode III, Revenge of the Sith, I'm sure there were still some Wookiee soldiers using rocks and stones.

The most prominent Wookiee of them all, Chewbacca, eventually left his home planet for a life of adventure, skipping around the galaxy with his companion, Han Solo, and though there were many instances that occurred in the time in between, the Wookiee never cast aside the main weapon of his people, the crossbow.

An impressive weapon to look at, intimidating in some instances, overall the weapon is bulky and inadequate.  For one, the crossbow (as it was used on the planet Earth) was designed for the ease of shooting ballistic projectiles like bolts and/or arrows.  In all of the times that I've bore witness to the use of the crossbow by Chewbacca, never once have I seen a quiver or any ballistics of any sort, being flung out by his trusty crossbow.  Hell! If you look closely at Chewies Bowcaster (pictured right), you'll notice that there's nowhere for a projectile, of any sort, to be launched from this outdated weapon.  

Filmmakers are in such a rush to design unique looking weapons for their sci-fi movies, that they set aside practicality for whatever looks cool and dangerous.  As stated before, Chewbacca's crossbow, looks impressive and even intimidating, to some degree, but it's better served as a museum piece.  An artifact worthy of spectacle and storytelling, rather than heated combat.  An outdated relic of ancient weaponry has no place in the  future, a long long time ago.

Man on a Mission

In a clear panic, I rushed through the thicket of people, crowded at the front of the store.  I was on the brink of exploding in my pants.  I definitely shouldn't have had that soda pop an hour before, but we always learn something via 20/20 hindsight.  Into the bathroom, past the urinals and straight into the handicapped stall.  I like the extra space.  The seat, thankfully, was already in the upright position, so I needn't balance it on the end of my foot.  I never use my hands for ANYTHING in a public restroom, especially in a f*cking Wal-Mart.

As I unzipped my heavy jacket in preparation for the task at hand, I passively glanced into the bowl , locking my gaze on the most peculiar sight I've ever had the misfortune to see in a public toilet.  I've mulled it over in my mind for the last hour, trying desperately to configure a way to successfully translate what I saw into comprehensible language and I believe I may have it.

In using the facilities at a restaurant, mall or big box store, we've all seen the remnant of the previous user or users.  That fecal muck that sticks to the side of the bowl that no amount of rushing water can successfully wash it away.  However, what I witnessed today was significantly different.  It was of a different viscosity and texture and colour, even.  The colour was a dull grey.  Thick and pebble-like in appearance.  Similar to celery seed, it looked like tiny beads of poo, spackled on the side of the bowl, like plaque on a rotting tooth.  "Ew," I whispered to myself, nose turned up with disgust, shocked by the appearance of this alien matter, "That motherf**ker is a sick puppy."

Granted just because it looks sick as f*ck, doesn't necessarily mean the contributing personality is also terminal.  I can speak from personal experience to initial shock of looking in the toilet expecting something impressive, and instead, discovering something off-putting, gross and concerning, only to remember that I had eaten beets a few hours before.  As to what might turn someone's poop into tiny grey balls of mystery? I don't know, nor do I wish to speculate.  My only goal in writing this blog, is to simply report the shit that I see.  Well, that and I wanted to use the simile that I thought of.

Despite my initial surprise, I never allowed it to deter me.  I was on a mission, after all.  A mission to avoid peeing my pants, and god damn it, crisis averted.  Mission accomplished!!

Don't Drink The Water

It used to be said: Don't drink the water.  That was in reference to anyone traveling south of the U.S. border.  Mexico was notoriously famous for having something wrong with their drinking water.  I can't remember what the end result was, as it's been decades since I've heard the reference, but I believe by drinking the water, you wind up with diarrhea.  That's pretty f*cked up, when the drinking water has a higher chance of giving you the runs, than the food.

California used to be a part of Mexico and though I've not been to The Golden State for a very long time, suffice it to say, if you're not drinking water out of a plastic recyclable bottle, you may be destined for some trouble.  Case and point: Miley Cyrus used to be a fine upstanding little girl.  A respectable role model for whom average little girls could look up to and aspire to be like.  She was a respectable celebrity with good morals, then all of a sudden... BLAM-O!! She's sticking out her tongue, shaking her ass and taking naked pictures of herself.  That wholesome little girl wasn't so wholesome, anymore.  I don't think "who*esome" is a word, but if it were, I'm sure we'd all be using it when referring to Miley Cyrus.

As a young teen, she portrayed the character Hannah Montana on the Disney program of the same name.  I've seen it.  It was mildly entertaining and silly, everything you'd expect a Disney show to be.  In an effort to shield herself from the hoards of screaming fans, Cyrus was a mild mannered, semi-unpopular teen, Miley Stewart, while in the evenings and weekends, she'd don a blonde wig, transforming her into Hannah Montana.  The character became so popular that in real life, Miley would entertain all over the world to crowds of screaming fans.  At the height of her popularity, even venturing out on a tour entitled: Hannah Montana Forever (pictured above left).

The fans knew Hannah Montana was Miley Cyrus, of course.  That was as obvious as Clark Kent being Superman, however I don't think Miley knew that, as the Disney series came to an end, so did the wholesome version of Miley Cyrus.  It's only been four years since Hannah Montana, but the crazy antics and public nudity of Miley Cyrus has become infamous.

Never failing to shock the public, Miley Cyrus, appeared just the other night, in Chicago, IL, performing a her songs, many of which came from the Hannah Montana era, wearing nothing but a strap-on dildo and a smile (pictured above right).  Even now, it was mentioned to me, yesterday, by a friend, that Miley Cyrus has announced that she'll be embarking on a new world tour, where it's suggested that she would not be the only person in attendance who would be naked, but that the crowds in attendance would be encouraged to be nude, as well.  "Is it going to be called, 'The Sausagefest Tour'?" I asked, believing that it will only be horny young boys and dirty old men, in attendance.  I would not want to be responsible for cleaning up the arena after that event.  The floor would be stickier than the floor of a movie theater.  I doubt, even a hazmat suit could protect anyone from...  Never mind.  I'm beginning to gross myself out...

So, take heed and be forewarned.  If you currently reside in Southern California or are planning to visit; DON'T DRINK THE WATER.  It made Randy Quaid go crazy.  Shia LeBeouf go mental.  Historically, it made Charles Manson go completely bat shit crazy-insane.  And it turned America's sweetheart, Miley Cyrus into a titty-flashing little skank.

HANNAH MONTANA FOREVER, huh?  Apparently our definitions of "forever", differ greatly...

Up Close & Impersonal

Tailgaters have always been a concern for me, and I'm not talking about the team fanatics who party and whoop it up in the parking lots of their favourite sports team's stadiums.  Although, I must admit that anyone willing to paint their bare chests in team colours for the minuscule chance of jiggling their poorly proportioned bodies for fifteen seconds of national fame, does make me question their sanity.

What does concern me, however, are the countless assholes who think it necessary (and safe) to follow the vehicle in front of them all too closely.  I see this occur all the time and it bugs me.  When it happens to me, then I get real concerned, spending more time watching them in my mirror than watching the traffic in front of me.  Having suffered a car accident years ago which left me with severe whiplash, to this day, when the mercury drops, the soreness and aggravation in my neck, rises.

In the summertime, the remedy is simple.  I tap my brakes and watch the fun ensue.  More times than not, the tailgater will slam on their breaks, sometimes even losing some control over their speeding vessel.  One fella, years ago, I remember, swerved and drove into the guard rail to his left.  I snickered as I continued my travels, while he stood outside his car, assessing the damage.  Did I feel guilty?  F*ck no!  If he hadn't been traveling so close, I would never have had the need to teach him this valuable lesson.

Winter time is another story.  It seems like, around here anyway, that even though we live with winter conditions four to five months out of the calendar year, people forget how to drive on snow and ice.  They think that the same rules of physics apply to them whether the ground is heated from the summer sun or frozen solid with black ice hidden under the freshly fallen snow.  This past Wednesday was the first snowfall of the year, and I heard about, at least, a couple dozen accidents, ranging from small fender benders to vehicles flipping over in the ditch.  I never heard about any fatalities, but I wouldn't be surprised if there were.  There's no doubt in my mind that half of these incidents were the result of assholes following too closely.

What really freaked me out, occurred about two hours ago.  I was traveling home, when a big rig, an eighteen wheeler semi-truck pulled in behind me in the left-hand lane, narrowly missing my rear bumper, no less.  The guy continued to tailgate me for the next couple of miles.  As I (dangerously) increased my velocity in an attempt to increase the distance between our two significantly different vehicles, he matched my speed, maintaining what I can only estimate was about two car lengths.  A semi-truck need A LOT MORE room than that to come to a complete stop, in an idea scenario.  On the other hand, traveling at 90km/h on ice, you may as well start writing my obituary, because I don't think the quality of life after being rundown by a Freightliner would be very enjoyable.

Back-and-forth, my eyes darted.  Back-and-forth, between my rear view mirror and the road in front of me.  Finally, I noticed that some reasonable distance between us had accrued, only to be filled with more vehicles.  Now, if it were necessary to slam on my brakes, I'd be rear ended by a Toyota, an F-150 and a motherf*cking Freightliner.  That'd really make my birthday next week a memorable one.

Finally, the lucky timing of traffic lights separated us for good, like conjoined twins going their separate ways at an amusement park.  I'm sure this won't be the last time, of course.  We're only two days into the cold stuff and I'm a fairly youthful fella, so I'm sure I have another thirty of forty years of assholes who can potentially injure, maim or kill me.  Crossing my fingers that I'll dodge that bullet, too.