10 Unchecked Theories I Cherish

August 05, 2011

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10 Unchecked Theories I Cherish

A couple of weeks ago, I was ragging on conservatives and wanted to include how Tea Partiers pretend to be all about spending cuts but won’t touch the two biggies, Social Security and the military. It was my final point, and it ended the whole list with a bang. Unfortunately, the editors like to wreck stories by insisting on what they call “facts,” and I was soon confronted with data that said many Tea Partiers are against military spending. “But John Stossel says they all agree,” I insisted, pointing to the end of this YouTube clip. “Oh, because one guy on ABC says it, it’s true,” whimpered the editor while linking this piece showing the opposite. When I clung to the Social Security claim, I was forced to prove why it’s wrong to get paid back something that you’ve been paying into your whole life. My theory had been dragged through the mud by fact-checkers and I was forced to abandon it. Thanks, dicks.

Why can’t we ranting pundits enjoy the same luxuries the uncurious enjoy? Why are we the only ones who have to dance with the facts in the pale moonlight?

I was in Manhattan recently in 100-degree heat taking a taxi to a meeting, and a coworker was complaining about how drenched in sweat he was. “It’s because I’m out of shape,” he said matter-of-factly. “The heat doesn’t make you sweat as much when you’re in shape.” I called bullshit on this made-up fact and someone else in the taxi said, “It’s true. I’m the same way.” I threatened to consult Google, and both of them began to sweat even more. “Well, I’m not betting my life on it, it’s just what I’ve noticed,” one of them muttered as they both stared at my iPhone like it was going to detonate a roadside bomb.

Well, I too, would like to have some Google-proof theories I can state as true without anyone questioning them. I’m sick of all this “fact” stuff. Here are ten things I staunchly believe but have no intention of ever researching. What’s more, I don’t want anyone to research them and tell me that they’re wrong because I really enjoy “knowing” they are true.

“Why are we the only ones who have to dance with the facts in the pale moonlight?”


When you hear frogs croaking to each other after dark, you assume they are communicating myriad information that includes mating calls, territorial claims, and gossip about local amphibians’ sexuality. Some of that may be kind of true with dolphins, but as far as insects and birds and frogs are concerned, the only messages they are conveying are, “I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.” The human equivalent would be a new guy in jail hoping he is not alone in the darkness. “Hello?” he’d call out. “Hello,” someone would say back. Then they’d elevate the conversation to background information about each other and what the jail’s like. They’d even come up with an ingenious note-passing system to share secrets. Not in nature. The forest’s creatures are constantly stuck at the “Hello?”/“Hello” stage, and forest sounds are nothing but a meaningless greeting stuck on repeat.


We’ve all heard the incredible stories of a dog or cat making its way home after being forgotten fifty miles from home. “He can’t read maps,” say the flabbergasted owners. “How did he find us?”

I’ll tell you how:

In the complex neurological wiring that connects your dog’s amazing olfactory abilities to his tiny brain is a grid of a hundred different colored squares. When he goes ten feet from the house, the bottom two red rows change to blue, and the second orange column switches to brown. When he returns home, the colors are restored.

So when the animal is abandoned miles from home, his brain is left with a scrambled Rubik’s Cube. His job is to move according to the chart and restore each block to its original color. Once that is done, he’ll be back at home because that is the only place on Earth with that unique signature. He does this by trial and error. When he goes in the wrong direction, the data on the chart becomes more scattered, so he stops. When he turns around and heads in the right direction, the pink and blue squares second from the top row (L36 and L37) are changed to the colors they are back at home. That’s a match! What follows is a game of “warmer…no, colder…warmer…hot!” until each block in this matrix is the correct color.


If a musician wants to get paid for a song but is worried what it could do to their reputation, they will often perform the song anonymously. I believe Andrew WK recorded the music for the Kit Kat ad “Gimme a Break,” although he is not credited in the commercial. I also believe Santigold did this song. If you show me evidence of someone else doing the song, I will become more steadfast in my beliefs.

NOTE: In the interest of full disclosure I should add that providing links for this song has drastically damaged my theory. That is why I hate providing links.


Maybe it’s because testosterone enhances one’s concentration, but (outside of sex, where the opposite is true) men take a long time to get into something and even longer to get out. When a woman watches a movie, she’s done when the credits are done. But a man will stay consumed with the plot way past his bedtime. Even as children we’d be leaping off garbage cans the whole way home from the theater as our sisters asked us why we care about Superman so much.

This trait makes women great for jobs such as doing dishes and minor tidying-up tasks. We’re happy to do the dishes, too, but we need 800 dishes piled to the ceiling. We will gladly grab some contractor garbage bags and single-handedly do the five-hour cleanup the morning after a huge party—but don’t ask us to sweep up 14 Cheerios. That’s your job.


The Saturday Night Live founder is often criticized for not having enough gay comedians, and the industry gasped when John Roberts didn’t make the cast, but I don’t think it’s because Michaels is a homophobe. I think he sees comedic gayness as a different culture from his audience’s demographic. “Gay” to him is a separate genre of comedy like shticky Catskills comedians or redneck comedians such as Jeff Foxworthy. He’s not against it; he merely thinks it belongs elsewhere. I believe this is a retarded belief, but I hate to inform you it has nothing to do with “hate.”


As a middle-class kid from the 80s, I was taught that deaf people are basically me without working ears. We were taught that blind people are just like the president, only they can’t see. Whatever the person’s handicap, it doesn’t deflect from the rest of their abilities. We swallowed this medicine like it was delicious, because it was.

But in Central and South America, the consensus flails in the other direction: If your son is handicapped, he’s shitty and God hates him so you should be ashamed of him.

I have known hordes of special people, and every time I ask their handler about their afflictions, I always get a laundry list of problems that seem very loosely tossed together. Their tone seems to be, “They’re just fucked-up in general.”

Graduation rates in deaf high schools are way below the national average, yet isn’t most of school about reading books and writing essays? Why do you need ears for that? I asked someone with a deaf sister about this, and she said the averages are pulled down because the majority of deaf people have a ton of other problems and are basically retarded.

Being deaf or blind does not mean God hates you. It only means you probably have other problems and really aren’t like us at all.


Few deny the figures that say blacks are disproportionately likely to commit crimes. Most of my friends say blacks were driven to this existence because whites deny them opportunities. Others say they commit the same amount of crimes as everyone else; they only get busted more because cops are racist. One guy in a bar told me it’s not their fault and if you were black, you’d be more prone to crime, too. Why? Because you’re harder to see at night (swear to God, he said that).

Another crazy theory is the whole thing comes down to testosterone. Having more man-juice than others makes you more likely to do more manly things like fornicate, defy authority, and fight.

I’m inclined to agree with a variation on the latter. Black-male lifestyles are a sausagefest, and that makes them more troublesome. Adult black males tend to be single and either live alone or with a bunch of other dudes. When they aren’t in all-dude prisons, they tend to have more labor-intensive jobs, and that means work time is all dudes. Not being in a committed relationship means playtime is also primarily dude-based.

Did you know that America has plenty of coed prisons? You’re not allowed to make out, but you can go for walks in “the yard” together. To walk counterclockwise on the track means a couple is dating; to break up, they do one clockwise lap together. Ask any prison warden how these prisons compare to male-only prisons: “When men are around women they’re calmer,” the imaginary guard in my head just told me over some beers. Then I high-fived him for confirming something I already knew to be true.


The reason comedians have locked onto politics is not because they care, but because it became a trend and they latched onto it because the winners were doing it. David Cross helped pioneer the modern comedy scene. He cut his chops in Boston along with Louis CK, Sarah Silverman, Janeane Garofalo, and everyone else who now runs the comedy world. He had way more anger than his peers because he grew up in the South as a New York Jew with a deadbeat dad. When he talked about politics it was sincere and well-informed. That excited the other slackers, so they filled in their own knowledge gaps with his enthusiasm. And it stuck. Today basically every comedian that I like talks about current events like they’re imitating an angry New York Jewish kid who just graduated from high school in the South.


The only “trick” to losing weight is recognizing the shockingly obvious truth that YOU NEED TO BURN MORE CALORIES THAN YOU TAKE IN—doye! This basic fact isn’t fun, so diets focus on gluten or carbs or protein or a whole litany of randomly chosen rules. When you enforce rules on an eater, he has to stop ignoring what he eats and make well-thought-out decisions. You could have a diet that said you could only eat things that are red and green, and it would work. A diet could tell people they can only eat things that start with the letter “B,” and it would do just as well as quitting gluten or carbs. It’s not about the specific rule; it’s about the need to have rules.


This is one of my favorites, so don’t touch it. During the Battle of the Philippines, MacArthur took up with a naughty half-Filipina mistress nicknamed “Dimples” who completely blew his fucking mind. She fellated him and allowed anal, the latter of which was totally unheard-of back then. (Blowjobs only came to America after soldiers first experienced them in France during WWII). When the going started to get tough, MacArthur ignored his orders and insisted his troops persevere. A big part of what got him out of bed in the morning was seeing her big, fat, yellowy ass shining like a rude sun.

Eventually, a truce was declared and South Korea was shielded from the Red Menace. This half-victory made MacArthur into a messiah of sorts. This is why modern Koreans have no problem going to a church where the deity on the wall is white rather than yellow. If only they knew, as I will continue to know, that the whole thing was based on an Asian fetish.

The End.


No erasies.


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