Several Convincing Arguments to Support the Claim that Wife Swap is the Greatest Television Program Ever Conceived

There are a lot of television shows, but one stands high above the rest, asserting it's dominance above all others like a great king. All other shows pale in comparison in every possible way. From it's ability to make us laugh, to it's astounding tendency make us deny our connections to the human race, there is but one television series as far as we here at Meaningless Meandering are concerned, and that one is....



Yes, that's right, Wife Swap. For those unfamiliar with the premise of the show, please, allow us to explain: Two families from startlingly different backgrounds are brought together to change wives for two weeks. For the first week, the new wives must live by the rules of the new family, in the following week the wives get to change the rules to their liking, and the new family must abide by them. Generally, this means that a well-to-do liberal, but obscenely strict wife who would rather lock her children in a cellar than let them interact with the opposite sex trades places with a wife from a poor, conservative family that believes that woman should remain in the kitchen and who's children already have children of their own. At age 12. The two families follow the rules for two weeks and one of two possible outcomes is eventually reached, 1) they learn their lesson, and make changes to their lives accordingly, or 2) they learn nothing from the experience and openly insult the other family on national television.

Of course, this is just generally how it plays out. Sometimes it gets mixed up a bit. Here's a few of my favorite Special Cases

-a family of clowns

-a family of wizards

-a family of alien hunters

-a family that refuses to cook any of it's food

-a husband that would rather wake board and jet ski than spend time with his kids. So he does.

Please note that, in the episode with the clowns, one of the rules was that they go to a talent agency where they are told they are failures as clowns. Top scientists have been working 'round the clock here at the Meaningless Meandering Institute of Higher Knowledge (MMHK) to confirm the theory that, yes, this was in fact the only thing funny thing that has ever happened involving a clown.

Our favorite part of the show is how it (no doubt through COPIOUS editing) shows us both sides of a debate as ignorant, argumentative and stupid. Truthfully, there has never been a likable participant of the show. From the carnies who teach their children "physics" by taking them on the tilt-a-whirl rather than putting them in school, hyper-religious zealots who's daughters, at 19, pray for a husband rather than date, to the man who outright tells his step-daughter he doesn't love her on national television, it's truly and simply a parade of horrible and stupid individuals, and we hear at the Institute will be god-damned if that doesn't make for darn good television.

One must wonder, with the way EVERY. SINGLE. PARTICIPANT. Is portrayed so negatively how new ones are so constantly found, but I submit to you, dear reader, that we as America are not at a loss for stupid people who want to get on television. Not by a long shot. In fact, one could easily argue that the majority of America consists of stupid people who would embarrass themselves to be on television.

That's right, you heard (read?) correctly. If Wife Swap is nothing but stupid, horrible people, and American is nothing but stupid, horrible people then I submit to you, dear reader, that Wife Swap IS America.

If A=B and B=C, then once can assume that A=C.

Wife Swap the single most patriotic anything that has ever existed.

As our final argument for the show, we've decided to let it speak for itself.

Bacon is Good For Me - watch more funny videos

[WHOLLY LEGITIMATE POST]

This is a place holder for an entry I intend to write about my humorous attempts to eat Jell-O with a fork. This serves more as a reminder to myself, as it's 3:30 in the morning and I've come up with several good sentences about the hazards of eating Jell-O with a fork and I don't want to forget them during sleep.

So this is a reminder to me, the author: Don't forget those funny things you thought up about the Jell-O.

And this is a reminder to you, the reader: Don't forget to come back, tomorrow or thereabouts, to read my insightful witticisms about eating Jell-O with a fork.

Return to your lives.

EDIT:

Amusing anecdote rescheduled for some other time because of Biology home work and Usopp totally left the crew.

ADDITIONAL EDIT CONFIRMING MY FAILURE TO DELIVER WHAT I PROMISED:

This is no longer a placeholder. In fact, it is quite the opposite, as you can see by the change in title, this is now a WHOLLY LEGITIMATE POST. It turns out those things I was going to say about Jell-O and the many utillities of the humble fork weren't actually funny, and I didn't have patience to sit around making them thus.

This is now a WHOLLY LEGITIMATE POST in that it is now a deconstruction of my own truly impressive procrastination skills and and inability do anything I intend to!

Until next time, Meander-ers!

[TITLE]

I'm in a bad mood.

What I was originally going to do was to write something meaningful and introspective. A deep look into my feelings and insecurities. The sort of thing that would make me feel like a bitch later, and ultimately get deleted in little over hour, pulled from the tubes in a moment of shame, hopefully before anyone could see it.

I know this scenario pretty well, because, hell, I've done it before. In fact, as recently as December, I'd kept a personal Journal on my computer where I bitched and moaned about various things. If you were to read it now, you'd be under the impression nothing good had ever happened to me once throughout the course of my life. It's embarrassing and I'm probably going to delete it after I finish writing this entry. Here's an example, one of the entries from the journal:

Entry 19

Tuesday, September 29^th , 2009

I don’t even feel like writing anymore.

I’m fucking horrible at math and I’m going to disappoint my parents…

-1:28 AM

That was last semester of school. Back then, I was convinced I was going to flunk my first ever college math course, but do you know what happened? I didn't. I passed it and moved onto the next part of the course, which I will also not fail. That's right. That's damn right.

Bottom line is this: Right now I feel insecure. Unlikeable. Boring. Stupid. Ugly. Fat. Not to mention every other stupid bad awful thing a person can feel about themselves. These things happen. These feelings come in waves. What's good to know is, that in all likely-hood, tomorrow I won't feel this way.

And what's more? I won't have a reason to then, either.

-The Management

We Are Very Busy People

This song pretty well sums up our generation. Whether this is depressing or inspiring is sort of left up to you.

It's depressing, just in case you needed help.

Lyrics are as follows. Go on about your day, my busy people.

We'll end up numb from playing video games
and we'll get sick of having sex.
And we'll get fat from eating candy;
as we drink ourselves to death.
We'll stay up late
mixing mix tapes,
photoshopping pictures of ourselves;
as we masterbate to these pixelated images
of strangers fucking themselves.

We are very busy people,
We are very busy people.

There's crusty socks
and stacks of pizza boxes
leading trails straight to the bed.
And when we're done sleeping
we'll stay busy dreaming of the things
that we do not have yet.
Well there's a long list of chores and shit to do
before we play, oh let's just piss away the day.
Crank call the cops down at the station,
just for friendly conversation,
requesting songs they never play;
Let's hear the one that goes like:

We are very busy people,
We are very busy people;
But we've always got time for new friends.
So come on over and knock on our door,
it's open what you waiting for?
We may be sprawled out on the floor,
but we still make lovely company.
Pull up a chair, I'll pour some tea,
We'll shoot the shit, 'bout everything,
till you get sick of politics,
and flip on the TV screen,
we stare at the TV screen.
That Donnie Darko DVD has been playing for a week,
and we know every single word.
I got an iPod like a pirate ship,
I'll sail the sea
with fifty thousand songs I never heard-
And all the best of them go
La la la la la la...
la la la la la la...

No More Heroes 2 Review

Hopeless anime nerd/violent sociopath (two personality types that, let's be honest here folks, are virtually inseparable) Travis Touchdown is back for more blood-shed in the sequel to the 2008 sleeper hit No More Heroes and the result is a satisfying (sometimes redundant) if short-lived thrill.

I was a huge fan of the original No More Heroes, as were a few other people I know. There was a lot of appeal to the game. It was charming, stylish, and though the gameplay was solid, the over-world and sub-games caused it to suffer a bit. To be truthful, loving the No More Heroes series also has another secret bonus. You know what it's like when you love a band that none of your friends, really, actually know about? Yeah? That vague feeling of superiority when you tell them about this great, awesome thing and they just say, "What?" NMH is the video-game equivalent of that.

Failing in Japan for having been developed with a Western audience in mind, the original came state-side and tanked here as well. It's a testament to the developers adoration of the characters and world that the game ever got a sequel at all. Developer Suda51 is known for pushing style over substance (evident in his first(?) game Killer 7) and sometimes that doesn't make up for the lacking areas in game play but I was more than willing to over-look the originals flaws (a crummy over world and some boring mini-games) for it's fantastic sense of style and over the top beam-katana boss-fights.

NMH2 takes place three years after the original ends. At the end of NMH the United Assassin's Association [UAA] was revealed to have beeen a scam by Sylvia to trick violent, sexually frustrated, down on their luck losers (Travis) into killing a bunch of strangers in exchange for a fake ranking and a sense of accomplishment, netting her a hefty sum of cash in the process. Travis has "retired" from assassination, and returns to Santa Destroy three years later to find the UAA has exploded since his departure into a legitimate organization, and Sylvia is again pulling the strings. Throw in some dead friends and another promise of sex and Travis is off to fight his way the top again starting at Rank 51.

One of the most notable things about the game is the presentation. There are some very extreme shadows that have turned some of the people I know off to the game, but over-all it looks a great deal better than the original. The world of No More Heroes is one of a fanciful sort of grit. If Quentin Tarantion directed a vide-game it would be like this. The over the top violent-almost-to-the-point-of-parody flavor that exists within the game is one of the hooking features, along with the writing which walks the line between cheesy and bad-ass so perfectly one wonders how it doesn't fall to either side.

The first thing to note about the game itself is that it's quite deceptive about it's content. The back of the case boasts that, "Starting from Rank 51," Players will, "fight their way through even more epic boss battles," The implication here clearly being that there are 50 boss battles in the game. NMH2 however, argues semantics in the leagues of your most anal high school English teacher, however, with a number of ways for Travis to jump up literally tens of ranks in single confrontations. One early example involves a Football player assassin named Charlie who's cheerleader groupies swarm together to form a giant robot... Yeah... Travis, using his own giant robot, blows up Charlie only to find out that the Cheerleaders were also on the list and he has just jumped 26 ranks.

Suda 51: Problem, video-gamers?

It gets so bad late in the game that Travis actually starts to complain about other people taking his kills.

Gameplay is much the same as the original. Travis will fight his way through a series of enemies (finishing each with either a wagglan beam-katana finisher, or a wrestling move) finally coming to a confrontation with the person a rank above what he currently is, pithy conversation, fight, rinse, repeat. One welcome addition is that of a few more basic enemies (of which the game has about three) and, thankfully, new environments to explore. It seemed like 90% of the first game's missions took place in an abandoned warehouse, but the environments on display in Desperate Struggle are much more varied and help to keep the game fresh. Still, some may find repetition setting in, especially in some of the of the later levels. One can only cut a man in half at the torso so many times before it becomes a nuisance. The best levels are the ones that are short and sweet, and thankfully, many are.

Two of the biggest complaints about the original NMH were the boring sandbox-hub and the mundane mini-games needed to earn cash for ranking fights. This time around the sandbox apsects have been removed entirely, replaced with a tidy map selection system and the hum-drum mini-games have been replaced by 8-bit mock-ups of classic games, like Super Hang-On and a hybrid Pac-Man/Dig-Dug thing. Because it no longer costs to enter ranking fights, you can play these games at your leisure and spend the money earned on new weapons, new clothes, or character upgrades.

No More Heroes: Desperate Struggle is a game that tackles every problem it predecessor had and improves minutely on the good aspects. The characters, artistic direction and writing are all top-notch, but the game suffers from a bit repetition in it's late levels and, for a game essentially all about boss battles, the final one is pretty weak. Still, it's insanely stylish, and, simply put is a fun ride from beginning to end, and really, that's all one can ask from a game.

VAGUE NUMERICAL SCORE FOR LAZY READERS: 4.5/5

Air Buddies: Why Do They Exist?

There are a number of things in life I'm aware I'll never fully understand. A few quick examples include: Truck Balls, wearing camouflage in suburban areas, the enduring popularity of Jeff Dunham and women (am I right, men?).

Highest on this list (at least at the time of this writing) is the Air Buddies franchise.

Just in case you don't remember, Air BUD was the heartwarming tale (or should I say tail?) of a boy and his dog taking the rock to the net. Occasionally from downtown.

The basic plot revolved around a boy named Josh who was too much of a wuss to try out for his school's basketball team and instead adopts a dog named Buddy. Actually it might not have been "instead", necessarily, I don't really remember. At any rate, the dog, as it turns out, is not only an exceptionally skilled basketball player, but better by a great deal than Josh. This roller coaster ride of a plot comes to a head when Buddy's original owner, an alcoholic birthday clown, show up and tries to take Buddy back after having realized how valuable he is. This results in a stand off where Mr. Antagonist and Josh stand on either side of Buddy calling at him to come to them. Buddy chooses Josh (obviously) and if memory serves, something wacky probably happens to Sir Bad Guy, like getting a sticky substance like fudge or syrup dropped on him or something.

Through several direct to video and DVD sequels with names like Air Bud: Golden Receiver Buddy would crush the spirits of little league teams everywhere by defeating them in sports where having thumbs served a significant advantage and truly cementing how little a fuck the Refs of kids sports actually give.

Finally after several years of imitators and increasingly ludicrous premises for the films themselves, someone decided to step in and do something about this mess of a franchise (Unfortunately for fans of Michael Phelps, his planned cameo in Air Bud: Water Logged Dog never materialized due to the script of the movie being rejected). Finally. It was over. Finally, we could sleep.

Or could we.

Just when the universe collectively thought it was safe to go back into the water, so to speak, executives, apparently still as keen on the idea of a dog playing sports as I was when I was seven decided that one dog that could play a shit-load of sports wasn't RAD enough. Instead they opted for a shit-load of dogs that could play one sport each.

Also, they could talk.

No reasonable explanation is ever given for this.

Saddled with his precious mistakes, Buddy became a stoic, soft-spoken stay at home dad (partially because he is a dog, and cannot talk, and would just as soon eat his puppies as nurture them) while the Buddies (who, I'm told do all have names or something) go increasingly insane adventures, each one making the fact that they all play sports a little less significant.

In the third movie, Space Buddies, the puppies went to space.

What.

D'aw.

Also, what.

Travis! You are the LOSER!

No More Heroes 2: Desperate Struggle comes out next Tuesday.

Along with Tatsunoko Vs. Capcom.

Basically, it's going to be a pretty big day for the Wii.

Watch out for a review of both in the following week or so, non-existent readers!