Monthly Archives: October 2009

Tuesday Tubby Tearfest: Please go home, Tracey

Father Scott

Every so often, I have a dream that I am twisting one of my bottom teeth and it eventually pulls out of my mouth. It’s an extraordinary dream, because I feel like I experience something that I haven’t experienced in, what, 15 years?

And it feels so good. My tooth is hurting (in the dream), which is why I keep yanking on it. The relief is amazingly satisfying, and the sensation of touching the gum with your tongue after a tooth has vanished is unmistakeable.

Of course, I wouldn’t actually want to yank a tooth out of my mouth, even the offending tooth (which doesn’t really fit in my mouth because my teeth are perpetually tightening, twisting this sonofabitch enough to give me dreams that its removal would be a delight). The lack of tooth would create a ridiculous-looking hole in my mouth that would make me look even more homeless than my scraggly beard does. I’m happy with semi-homeless.

This is how Tracey feels about weight loss.

Tracey is an attention-grabbing, crazy-eyed, rumpled-haired, lying, illogical whore. OK, she does not sell herself sexually for money, as far as we know. But the rest is all documented.

But the thing is: She does not actually want to lose weight.

As Jillian so often says, “This is a CHOICE.” Everyone on the show has health issues, because they’re monstrously overweight. But not everyone runs off to Dr. Huizenga. If everyone had meetings with Dr. H every few days, wouldn’t there be dangerous levels of all kinds of stuff in their bodies? OF COURSE. And of course it’s dangerous for them to be working as hard as they are.

Sure, she passed out on the first episode because walking a mile is just too much activity. But I think there’s something psychological going on. Am I saying she intentionally passed out? No. But I think she’s psychologically weak, and that’s tying into physiological weakness. Tracey doesn’t want to lose weight, because she will no longer stand out. She will no longer be an obese, and in her mind, tragic figure, deserving of your sympathy. She’ll just be another annoying lady with kids.

Unlike my tooth, Tracey’s weight is actually a problem, and she would look better. But it would change how she is perceived in the world, and she can’t handle that.

Her attention-grabbing is getting old. It’s clear, as Pax said to me before I watched the last two episodes, that Tracey is just trying to become the star of the show, just as Heba did in season 6. Except that Heba combined strategy and melodrama with actual work, whereas Tracey talks, talks, talks, and sits, sits, sits. I officially do not believe The Biggest Loser scales — or they are just blatantly lying about how much activity she does — because it is totally illogical that some of these people bust their asses, and this ho loses weight and stays alive.

Tracey: You do not want to be The Biggest Loser. You do not even want to be ON The Biggest Loser. You want to be on TV. You want to be Octomom, not Mark from season 5. And I fucking hate Octomom.

Please go home, Tracey. And I hope Jillian pummels the shit out of you on the way out.


For those of you who are new to Tuesday Tubby Tearfest: Each week I provide an over/under for how many instances of crying will happen on the show. It’s a totally subjective determination, and the phrase is just as clunky as “percentage of weight loss of xx lbs.”. Generally, I consider an instance of crying being any time in which there are tears or blubbering. If you collect yourself and bawl again, I count it.

This season was out of control with the tears — I’m pretty sure episode 3 set some kind of record. But with Sean gone, I think it’s going to be more even keeled. The line is 13.5 this week. I’ll take the over, but I’m not that confident about it.


Well, Tracey if it were up to me. But the producers are clearly fucking with the game to keep her on.

I’m going to say Liz. The shit catches up with the older folks, and Liz may be late 40s, but she acts and looks about 60. She’s not nearly as committed as some of the other people, and when it comes down to it the voting depends on A) who needs to be there B) who they like the best and C) who wants to be there. I think people like Liz, but she doesn’t need to be there as bad as some (Rudy, Shay) and doesn’t want to be there as much as some (Shay again, and Daniel).

Enjoy the show, homies.


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Your brain changes the game

It was a tough sports weekend for the house of Pax. Not only did the Giants get creamed by New Orleans, but the Yankees and Phillies took several steps closer to playing in the biggest asshole douchebag fuckface World Series of all time.

On top of all that, Steven Hauschka — the official placekicker of Pax Arcana — missed a 44-yard field goal that would have sent the Minnesota Favrekings home with their first loss of the season.


I root for Hauschka because we both attended the same college — the Central Vermont Institute for Advanced Tomfoolery and Maple Syrupry. So I was heartbroken when he — our only NFL player ever — just missed the chance to humiliate Brett Favre in front of millions.

He’s a young kid, though, so he’ll bounce back. Assuming, of course, he can use his brain to convince his eyes that they’re wrong about where the goalposts are.

According to Wired, new research shows that missed field goal kicks actually change a person’s perception of the dimension of the goal posts:

In a study of 23 non-football athletes who each kicked 10 field goals, researchers found that players’ performance directly affected their perception of the size of the goal: After a series of missed kicks, athletes perceived the post to be taller and more narrow than before, while successful kicks made the post appear larger-than-life.

While this might appear to be a “no duh” result, the study may alter the way scientists perceive perception itself. Until now, scientists pretty much separated the processes of receiving visual input and interpreting that input. But if the study subjects genuinely reported different perceptions based on the past performance of field goal kicking, that means the input and interpretation are more closely tied than believed:

According to visual perception researcher Maggie Shiffrar of Rutgers University, who was not involved in the research, Witt’s conclusions are troubling to many scientists because they suggest that computer studies of perception might not be a reflection of reality.

“If Witt is right that what we see depends upon what we can do, then it logically follows that many of us have spent our lives studying perception in the WRONG WAY,” Shiffrar wrote in an e-mail. “In the vast majority of studies conducted in my lab, for example, observers view displays on a flat computer screen and make simple, dichotomous judgments about their perceptions of those displays. Thus, subjects in my studies don’t do anything other than push a button. The results of Witt’s studies suggest that the results that I’ve collected and the corresponding theoretical conclusions that I’ve drawn won’t generalize to perception in the real world. In the real world, people look at objects so that they can do something with those objects.”

It seems true — people do look at objects so that they can do something with those objects. And so finally, after all these years, science explains why slutty girls are hotter.

Missed Kicks Make Brain See Smaller Goal Post [Wired]

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Friday Random 10: Sexy ass fruit flies edition

Scientists in Canadia say they have discovered a way to genetically tweak fruit flies in such a way as to make them utterly irresistible. Not only do fruit flies of the opposite sex flock toward the modified flies, but many of the same sex apparently turn gay for these sexy little monsters.


Professor Joel Levine, who led the study at the University of Toronto, genetically tweaked fruit flies so they failed to produce a particular pheromone or odour, which is used by the flies to communicate.

The effect on males and females when the cuticular hydrocarbon pheromone was removed was a ‘sexual tsunami’, he said.

The research has a long way to go, but I think it’s good that we’re on our way to explaining why Father Scott is so damned alluring. To insects, anyway. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to zip up my mosquito tent and get back to work.

The songs:

I Don’t Want To Die In The Hospital — Conor Oberst
Fell in Love With a Girl — White Stripes
Time is on My Side — The Rolling Stones
Sweet Illusions — Ryan Adams
Saved by Old Times — Deerhunter
Balcony/Green Eyes — Joe Purdy
The Bunker — Beirut
Don’t Look Back in Anger — Oasis
A Fool for You — Ray Charles
Take Pills — Panda Bear

Bonus Video:

Dashboard — Modest Mouse

The Rules: The Friday Random 10 is exactly that — random. We open up our iTunes, set the thing on shuffle, and listen to 10 songs. We are not permitted to skip any out of embarrassment or fear of redundancy. Commenters are encouraged to post their own.


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Don’t call it a comeback

Father Scott

I live by a few simple rules in life. Always accept free cake. Don’t trust large, goofy scandinavians.

But the most important one is: If many women ask you to do something, do it.

And that rule is why I’m happy to announce the return of the greatest regular feature in the illustrious history of Pax Arcana: Tuesday Tubby Tearfest.

I lost interest in The Biggest Loser after season 6’s unlikeable cast was followed by season 7’s unwatchable cast. Basically, Paul left large shoes to fill (literally and figuratively). Wonder if he ever got over his post-show pneumonia.

With Samurai focus, I build this carrot tree. Carrot. Carrot cake. Pulled pork. Chocolate-covered nachos with mayonnaise. MMMMMM

Anyway, I have three more shows to catch up on to get back to real-time, but should be able to carve out four or five hours in my weekend of coke orgies to do so.

After episode 1, I have the following thoughts:

1) Jillian has become a parody of herself, to hilarious results. She’s still motherfucking insane.


2) Coach Mo is awesome. I dread his eventual dismissal (thanks for the spoiler, Pax).

3) Never before have I seen a reality cast more coached by the producers. How many sentences started with, “I feel like I have a second chance…” in the first episode? The over under was 143.5, and I’m betting Pax’s mortgage on the over.

4) Alison Sweeney is smokin’.

If you haven’t yet read Tuesday Tubby Tearfest, here’s what you can expect:

1) Making fun of fat people who cry

2) Philosophical discussions as to whether Jillian is human

3) What delicious food I eat while watching these fatasses struggle to get out of bed in the morning

If that doesn’t sound like your slice of pie, go back to tweeting about Balloon Boy, or whatever it is you people do.

UPDATE: OMGZ 47 billion hat tips to Pax for this astoundingly…something…video by/about Paul:


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Monster will sue your ass

Hansen Beverage Company is a small mom-and-pop concern with a billion dollars and a dream — a dream in which it murders the shit out of smaller businesses that make products that are sort-of maybe kind-of like what they make.

vermonsterHansen makes Monster energy drink, the official beverage of high school wrestlers and high school dropouts. Matt Nadeau makes small batch craft beers in Vermont. To commemorate 10 years of staying in business, Nadeau’s Rock Art Brewery produced a special barley wine called The Vermonster.

Because Hansen has some designs on maybe someday entering the alcoholic beverage industry, it sent a nasty letter to Nadeau demanding that he pull all marketing and sales efforts behind The Vermonster. Because the names kind of sound like each other, and people can get confused. If they’re idiots. Which is actually Monster’s primary demographic.

Anyway, several trademark lawyers have told Nadeau that the Monster people have absolutely no case, but still advising him to give up. Hansen has enough cash to keep the case in the courts for years, and Nadeau’s legal fees would likely drive him to bankruptcy:

“This is just about principle,” said Nadeau, 43. “Corporate America can’t be allowed to do this, in this day and age. It’s just not right.”

Trademark attorneys say companies are right to be aggressive about trademark infringement, since they can lose trademarks down the road if they fail to defend them. It’s just a side effect of having a strong 1st amendment.

You know what else the 1st amendment is good for? Reviewing products on the Internet. Even products like Monster energy drink, which tastes like boiled urine sprinkled with Feta cheese. In fact, I bet there’s nothing worse on earth than the taste of Monster energy drink. It’s like paint thinner run through a colander full of dead guinea pigs. Seriously, it tastes like crabs (the STD, not the crustacean).

Monster-maker to Vt. brewer: No ‘Vermonster’ beer [AP]

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Panic Face King

According to Boing Boing, there’s a hidden-camera show in Japan called Panic Face King. The object of this show is to induce a look of sheer panic on someone’s face by scaring the crap out of them, while simultaneously making me cry and throw up a bit because I’m laughing so hard.


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OMG only three years left!

The Y2K era represents the high-water mark of American science, technology, and culture. I mean, yeah, every computer on earth imploded and hundreds of airliners fell from the sky, but eventually we were able to rebuild our civilization by fusing together the scraps of fallen communications satellites.

Wait, hang on.

mayan_calendarI just did an Internet search, and apparently none of that stuff happened. Which would make me a lot happier if I didn’t know we only had three more years on this earth!! !11!!!!OMGOMG

I’m referring, of course, to the Mayan doomsday calendar that everyone’s talking about. Apparently, some ancient Mayan calendars run out of their normal cycles in 2012. This definitely means the world is going to end, because it’s not like the Mayans were ever wrong about anything. Except about how not to die off as a civilization.

Anyway, there are still Mayans out there. And guess what? Even they think it’s totally full of shit.

Apolinario Chile Pixtun is tired of being bombarded with frantic questions about the Mayan calendar supposedly “running out” on Dec. 21, 2012. After all, it’s not the end of the world.

Or is it?

Definitely not, the Mayan Indian elder insists. “I came back from England last year and, man, they had me fed up with this stuff.”

Historians point out that 2012 — the end of the supposed calendar cycle — is one of many that Mayans left behind in inscriptions. The year 2012 has a tendentious relationship with a certain astronomical phenomenon, but then again I just learned what “tendentious” means and it’s 2009. OMG WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE TOMORROW OH NOESZZ!!!!!!!!

2012 isn’t the end of the world, Mayans insist [AP]

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