How to Work Effectively from Your Home Office When Godzilla Attacks

Working from home has become a regular part of the American business landscape, and there are an abundance of books and articles dealing with how to establish an efficient work practice from where you live.

Few however have provided effective guidance for successfully working from home when Godzilla attacks.  That is, few until now.

The cardinal rule for working from home or apartment is of course to set up a separate area for sleep and a separate area for work.  Godzilla doesn't care about this, but a  healthy body does.  So make sure to do it!

Once your home office is established, you must be continuously prepared for the possibility that Godzilla may attack and disrupt your daily workflow. Get in the habit of watching the local news regularly; the distractingly attractive weather and/or traffic person in the morning will often provide tri-state Godzilla sightings and updates. Another excellent source of information is www.GodzillaOnTheGo.com, which tracks the giant lizard around the world and even features Anderson Cooper reporting evenings at 11:00.

When organizing your work assignments for the next day, always factor in the risk that Godzilla may be on the rampage. Every to-do list should at the very least contain:

•                            Wear asbestos suit.
•                            Check level of Oxygen Destroying Tablets.
•                            Organize survivors into cave-dwelling foraging community to begin civilization anew (if applicable).

Another important rule:  Always stay in close contact with your corporate office throughout the day.  This helps you to remain perceived as a regular and essential part of the ongoing conduct of business despite your working remotely, and also facilitates your cries for help being readily heard by co-workers should Godzilla be chewing on your internal organs at the moment.

If you are skyping with co-workers at the corporate office and you hear anguished screams and see jetties of blood spurting across your computer monitor, it’s likely the corporate office has been demolished and your co-workers digested or decapitated. Check with any other locations of the company to see if colleagues are available there to pick up the slack and work remotely with you on current projects.

Even when you have a very busy schedule and/or Godzilla is slamming down buildings one or two blocks away, it is important to take regular breaks.  Go out and meet a friend, take a nice walk, or give badly-needed blood at the nearest makeshift clinic. A bit of me-time will help you fight off the kind of afternoon letdown that makes you want to nap. And fire-breathing behemoth massacring hundreds of people or not, succumbing to a nap can be a notorious time waster.

What do you do if Godzilla should poke his face right into the window where you are working?

Plan A: Sometimes Godzilla actually turns out to be a man in a lizard suit. Look for a zipper around his neck and if you find it, try to unzip it. 

Plan B: If Godzilla bares his teeth and they are sharp and menacing, forget the zipper.  Pack up your essential devices, scurry down the steps of your building and out into the street, raise your arm upward, point, and shout:

  “Look, Godzilla!” 

This is de rigueur.

Then find a Starbucks. They’re never very far away, and provided you order a cappuccino or espresso you can tap into their free WIFI, set up a home-away-from-home office, and stay there all day. (Exceptions may apply.) 

By now U.S. Air Force jets have hopefully blasted Godzilla back into the sea, so with a bit of perseverance you may make up any time lost and still wrap up by 5:00 or 5:30. Once you have neatly crossed every item off your to-do list, sign off for the day, pack up all your equipment and devices and head home at last.

Assuming there is a home to head home to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Most Disliked Nominees in History

It's been said that Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton are the most disliked party nominees for President ever in the history of the United States. However, that's not true. There were two other even more disliked nominees running back in 1920. 

That year Vlad the Impaler ran for President against Satan.

Vlad the Impaler's slogan was "I smoked, but I did not impale." Satan's followers countered with "A human in every pot."  Vlad lobbied hard for unrestricted access to impalement stakes under a frequently misinterpreted law known as the Second Dismemberment. Satan ran into trouble when a number of torture-related letters were found in the wrong server, the one in his dining room and not in his office. 

These two were VERY disliked.  Satan's followers frequently rioted at his rallies against him. Vlad was incessantly booed and spat upon by his Vice-Presidential Running Mate, Godzilla.

At the last moment a third party challenge was mounted and Warren G. Harding was elected President. He was no picnic either.

Reached today, Satan commented that "yes, we were disliked, it's true, but that Trump guy really scares me!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How to Tell the Real Monsters at Halloween

Halloween isn't just for kids.

Ghouls, monsters, vampires, and all manner of children of the night enjoy what music they make on Halloween because once a year they may mingle incognito among humans without anyone chasing  them with a stake, a silver bullet, or a boxed set of ABBA's greatest hits.

But how do you tell whether that becloaked or be-bloodied figure at your door on Halloween is hoping to cop a mini-butterfingers or chop off your butterfingers all the way up to your arm pit?

Here's how:

How to Tell the Real Monsters at Halloween

1)  That horrible, cackling, hideous old crone?  Your wife.

2) Are there mindless crazed-looking creatures shrieking "brains, brains, we need brains!" stumbling up the street?  They're not zombies, they're Trump supporters.

3)  If the 6 year old at your door asks if he can have an extra chocolate bar for the Invisible Man who is standing right next to him, you have just met the world's youngest con artist or the world's shyest Invisible Man.

4)  If a 4 foot 3 inch Godzilla in a phony looking costume comes to your door, it is not Godzilla but Herschel Farbman from the next block.

5) Did a little old lady get mutilated late last night?  Yep, Werewolves of London.

6) If a 400 foot Godzilla comes to your door and rips off the front of  your house, breathes fire and incinerates your family, bites you in half with razor sharp six foot long teeth, and ingests every bloody part of  you, it is not Godzilla but Herschel Farbman from the next block in the premium Godzilla costume.

7) If you see a man coming down the street with a blood stained chainsaw, gaping wounds,  and a horrific expression on his face, he is not the maniac from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, he's a Jewish guy who's  just been trying to do home repair.

8) If a skeleton comes to your door, eats a Milky Way, and you can watch it travel all the way down his alimentary canal and drop out his rear end, that's a real skeleton.  And call me up, I'd love to see that!

9) If  Batman comes to  your house and talks your ear off about how bad it sucks that  Ben  Affleck is  playing him, it's really Batman.

10) If the vampire at the door recoils at the sight of a cross, casts no reflection in a mirror, and looks admiringly at the nape of your neck, forget about being a morning person for a long, long time. 

11) That lumbering, inarticulate, growling hulk?  Your husband.

12)  If the guy dressed all in red with a tale and horns asks if he may take your immortal soul, try to talk him into a box of Goobers instead.

13)  If an 800 foot Godzilla comes to your door and swallows whole all your candy, you got off easy.

14)  If a child comes to your door and says "Trick or Treat for UNICEF" and you're a Trump supporter, run, run, run,  it's The Liberal Fiend from the UN! And don't ever come back, you stupid asshole!

15) Was his hair perfect?   Werewolves of London again?  Nope,  David Muir of ABC News.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inception 2013, Featuring Raymond Burr

(Note:  If you've never seen Godzilla or Inception, you'll hate this post and should pass it by. Frankly, most people who have seen either or both of those movies hated this post and wish they'd passed it by.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In 1956,  fearing American audiences could not relate to a movie with an all Japanese cast, American producers took a Japanese monster picture named Gojira and strategically inserted actor Raymond Burr playing reporter Steve Martin.  The result was a new film named Godzilla in which Burr reports on all the action in the movie and interacts rather clumsily with the characters from the original footage.

In 2010, the movie Inception directed by Christopher Nolan opened with one of the most complex and confusing plots ever presented in a major American motion picture. To help audiences better comprehend the film, Hollywood moguls had the bright idea to try the Godzilla approach once more.

And so, we not-so-proudly present:

 Inception 2013  

Steve Martin:  I was greatly looking forward to seeing my old friend Dominic Cobb again. I'd heard he'd been experimenting with techniques to enter the dreams of other people to extract secret information from them.  How fun!  My name is Steve Martin.  I'm a reporter. Not the comedian.

Cut to shot of Cobb looking up. Oddly, whenever Steve Martin's face is seen on camera, you only see Cobb's back.

Cobb: Why, Steve!  Steve Martin!  I haven't seen you since your excellent reportage on the Godzilla rampage in Japan.  What can I do for you?

Steve Martin: I'd like to do a piece on Inception, the manner in which you implant ideas in people's minds while they sleep. I think I can sell it to Christopher Nolan.

Cobb:  Great, Steve!  We are working for a businessman named Saito to implant an idea in his competitor Fischer to destroy everything Fischer’s father worked tirelessly for all his life. 

Steve Martin:  And what will you gain from this, Dominic?

Cobb:   I'm wanted for the murder of my hauntingly lovely wife Mal, which I didn't do, and can't get back in the United States to see my two lovely children until Saito arranges for me to get past U.S. Customs.  

Steve Martin: Sounds like a case for Perry Mason!  But tell me, Dominic, how do you know when you are sleeping?

Cobb:  You spin this!

Steve Martin:  A dreidel? I never knew you were Jewish!  

Cobb: No, Steve, it's a top which keeps spinning if you are in the dream state and topples over if you are not.   By the way, Steve, you are in the dream state right now!

Steve Martin: I awoke in my elephant print pajamas needing desperately to go the bathroom, both No. 1 and No. 2. Then I got a call from Cobb telling me to meet him and his new dream architect in a nearby cafe.

Cut to shot of Cobb and Ariadne sitting in a cafe talking.  Oddly, whenever Steve Martin's face is seen on camera, you only see their backs.

Cobb:  Ariadne, I'd like you to meet my friend, reporter Steve Martin.

Ariadne:  Steve!  Steve Martin!  Nice to meet you.

Cobb:  Steve, Ariadne will design the multiple dream levels to be dreamed by each of the members of my team. We're somewhat concerned that Fischer's mental projections may battle us, thereby adding a lot of wanton violence to the movie.

Steve Martin:  Good,  I love reporting on wanton violence!  And your thoughts, Ariadne? 

Ariadne:  I'm worried that Cobb's projections of Mal will screw up everything, especially if we land in Limbo, the bottom level of dreams where 24 hours of awake time plays out like 50 years, or even longer if you're stuck watching a movie by the Farrelly Brothers. Watch out, Steve, that fruit stand's about to explode on you!

Steve Martin: Escaping from the terrible mixed fruit carnage, I joined Cobb and his team aboard a plane with Fischer and Saito. Oddly, whenever my face is seen on camera, you only see their backs.

Cobb:   Sandman's comin', Steve!  Want a drink of water first?  Or a story?

Steve Martin:  I joined the team on their manifold adventures at multiple levels of Fischer's maze-like dream.  Cobb told me the only way back to waking state was through a kick, the experience of something horrible like dying in the dream, getting blown to smithereens, or listening to ABBA. 

Cobb and Ariadne:  Watch out, Steve! We're falling into Limbo!

Steve Martin:  Now it seems Steve Martin, like Tokyo, has no defense!

Cobb:  Steve, down here we have to finish implanting in Fischer the idea to decimate his father’s legacy, locate Saito who’s now 147 years old, and - by the way - kill Mal.  

Steve Martin:   Sounds like a plan, Dominic.

Steve Martin:   Cobb and I found Saito wearing a latex mask which made him look like Abe Vigoda’s father.  I haven't seen such cheesy special effects since Godzilla! Cobb and Saito killed each other, and I initiated a kick based on some sausage I ate before I went to sleep. Oooohhh!! I still feel it!

Steve Martin:  And then we were all back on the plane. But was this reality or still a dream? Am I nothing more than a portly unemployed rather bland actor who only dreamed he hit the jackpot with Perry Mason and Ironside?

Cobb: Steve, once I get past Customs thanks to Saito why don't you come home with me for lunch? I'll spin the top and we'll figure out whether we're real people or just stuff to sprinkle on oatmeal. 

Steve Martin:  We returned to Cobb's house and were greeted by actor Michael Caine who looks even better than I do, but of course he's not dead! Then Cobb at last saw his children.

Cut to shot of Cobb's two young children.  When Steve Martin's face is on camera, you only see their backs --- not so oddly, because that’s all you saw of them in the original movie!

Cobb's children:  Steve!  Steve Martin!

Steve Martin: The top is spinning round and round, however will it stop?!  It's teetering, teetering, teetering!  I'll get back to you with an update soon, but first:  

Word out of Hollywood is that Inception 2013 has bombed so badly that Godzilla has asked his name be taken out of the credits!

This is Steve Martin reporting ....

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oy!  This may be the stupidest post he's ever written!

Perchance to Dream

To sleep, perchance to dream.

To stay up, perchance to snack.

Aye, there's the rub! And no fair making an X-rated joke out of that line, because this post is about dreams, not sex.   

I had that awful dream again last night, the one I've been having ever since I was a small child. In fact, I've had it so often and for so long that I'm now collecting royalties from other people whenever they have it!

In the dream, I am going in to take a final exam.  I have not attended class all semester, have not studied, and don't even know for sure what the subject is I'm taking the test in.  I am fraught with guilt, insecurity, and an extreme sense of deep and abiding  fraughtness!  

At that point I awake and experience inexpressible joy that it was all just a horrible dream. Then I do not sleep for the next six months committing Wikipedia to memory until I'm ready to ace that sucker!

Why do we dream at all?  

It is indisputable that dreams can tell us a great deal about the dreamer, such as that he is asleep at the moment.  One man dreams he is being chased by Nazis, another dreams he is being chased by a giant man's pants zipper.  What does it all mean?  

Absolutely nothing,  except either way both guys are being chased by really big pricks!

Of course, it was Sigmund Freud who first referred to dreams as "the Royal Road to the Subconscious."  Further research since Freud's day, however, has shown that the Royal Road to the Subconscious is actually Interstate 47, which leads to Schwenksville PA.  I'd wondered for years why my psychiatrist Dr. Kropotkin was always asking me "So how do you really feel about Schwenksville?" 

We often hear that dreams only occur during REM sleep, but we now know you can dream during non-REM sleep as well,  provided none of us tells the sleep researchers. 

Is it true that people only dream in black and white? 

Another myth is that most people dream only in black and white. Personally I always dream in full Eastman Color, although the quality is faded and badly in need of restoration.  I also tend to dream a great deal in French with English subtitles.  This can be extremely annoying, especially when they pull the caption away before I've had a chance to read it.

Once I went through an entire evening dreaming in Japanese dubbed into English.  Got to the point I didn't even need the dubbing to know what was being said was "LOOK! GODZILLA!"

I've also had a few random dreams in Italian dubbed into English, which is kind of nice except when people's lips move too much for what they are saying. This happens especially whenever I'm dreaming about the late actor Steve Reeves playing Hercules.  

Can dreams foretell the future?

I don't know about this, but it makes a good argument for not sleeping with someone who continually moans in his sleep "Oh no, another film with Nicholas Cage!"

There are on file a handful of unexplained instances which seem to strikingly indicate the existence of clairvoyancy in  dreams.  The noted Midwestern psychic Edgar Carsick once awoke in great panic after dreaming about an ocean liner, swirls of rushing water, and frantic cries for help. His dream unmistakably pointed to an unspeakable catastrophe involving a cruise ship, a chilling prophecy that came all too horribly and tragically true shortly thereafter.

The very next day Mr. Carsick paid twelve bucks to see The Titanic 3D.

Does the movie Inception accurately portray the true nature of dreams?

The movie Inception showed that other people can actively participate in our dreams, although I've never seen actress Ellen Page floating around anywhere in mine, not even one lousy goddamn time! Then again there are probably laws even in the Dreamworld that would have my ass hauled into court for even thinking about doing nasty things to someone as young as Ellen Page, if not to Ellen Page herself.

Inception revealed a whole new aspect, depth, and dimension to our dreams.  It certainly has me scared to death to play dreidel anymore come Hanukkah time. 

All this talk of dreams is making me kind of sleepy.  

So goodnight, everybody ....

OH, NO!  

 LOOK, GODZILLA!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Semi-Importance of Being Perry

            

      




Mr. Mason                                        Mr. Farrell                       

    

All my life I’ve had a love-hate relationship with, of all things, my own name.

To be more precise, my relationship with my name is about ¼ love and ¾ hate, and the “love” is more on the order of “like” similar to the manner in which you “like” a comment on Facebook primarily because it has no misspellings.

Now you might think I have an archaic moniker like Bartholomew, an androgynous one such as Skyler, a back-to-the-garden 60’s name like Moon Glow, or an aberrant flight of parental reason like Melrose.

But you’d be wrong.

My name is Perry.

Chances are you don’t even know a Perry.  If you’re of a certain age, your perception of Perry comes from either:

• Perry Como, crooner of the 1950’s whose mellow song stylings brought new dimensions to the word “comatose;”

• Perry Mason, the fictional attorney who never lost a case as personified by the grim, porky, and generally unappealing actor Raymond Burr, whose best role was opposite Godzilla; or

• Perry White, Clark Kent’s 'Great Caesar’s Ghost' spouting editor, the man who holds the distinction of being the only nonessential character ever woven into the entire Superman legend and the only one never to get his own comic book.

If you’re a bit younger, you may know rocker Perry Farrell, actor Perry King, or designer Perry Ellis.  But frankly if you held a convention of Perrys you could fit them all in a Hampton Inn and still have room for a Starving Artists' Sale. If you took all the Perrys in the world and laid them end to end, they’d be thankful for the attention.

I myself have only known one other Perry.  And in that experience I learned that I am wholly unable to handle something that people named Jim and Bill and Bob and probably even Bartholomew each and every day negotiate with ease.

I cannot address another human being by the very name I’ve felt saddled with my entire life, but which I’ve also come to feel I own!

“Hello, umm,  Pouie ...”

I sputtered over the phone the first time I called Other Perry, slurring our communal name so badly it sounded like I was summoning a Pekingese for his nightly brushing and toenail clipping.

“I mean .... Hello, Perry!” I tried again, this time a bit more sprightly. “This is your namesake.”

Namesake?

To avoid saying “Hello, Perry, this is Perry,” I --- a person alive and breathing in 21st Century America --- actually uttered the word “namesake.” What would be next? Babbling to him to “leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for our namesake” as well?

Truth is, how we relate to our names oft does define our identities. Call your daughter Bertha and chances are by the time she’s 23 anyone lacking a full-blown death wish will opt for the stairs whenever she heads for the elevator.  Christen your daughter Tiffany or Angelique and odds are she’ll grow up to never even consider dating a Perry, let alone me. 

But when it comes to the Semi-importance of Being Perry, there's just no road map.  I don't know what a Perry is, what a Perry does, or what a Perry ought to be. I need some Perry pointers and fast!  

Other Perrys out there ---  if any there be --- can you help?  Please place a call to Philadelphia Perry.  Let's talk our Perryness.  Let's psych out our Perry personas.  If we exchange our Perry perceptions, we may yet achieve Perry Perfection

Or at least, Perry Passability. 

I promise not to call you Namesake.  As long as you promise not to call me Pouie!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

        






  Mr. White                     Mr. Platypus

Next on Nova: Whatever Happened to the Dinosaurs?

Is this what really happened to the dinosaurs?

Be More PBS!

Next on Nova .…

They rule our imagination – those thunderous beasts who ruled the earth over 65 million years ago. For years scientists have struggled to determine just what caused them to go extinct. It’s Whatever Happened to the Dinosaurs? On Nova….

Perhaps it was an early case of global warming. Or the impact of a gigantic meteor that careened out of control and crashed into the earth at a time when there were no strict rules against careening out of control and crashing into the earth. Or was it simply an appalling lack of concern for eating heart healthy?

What did in the dinosaurs? Today modern science is learning that all these various theories may amount to little more than paleontological poppycock, if we can use that expression on PBS without jeopardizing our federal funding. Today’s paleontologists --- and we mean the really smart ones that listen to NPR --- are coming to the startling conclusion that dinosaurs did not go extinct at all, but simply became passé!

This is Dr. Lance Lewitsky of the University of Havertown PA. He has been studying dinosaurs for over 25 years, ever since he learned that there was no math involved.

Dr. Lewitsky….

“Our fossil record is woefully and highly incomplete. In fact, I’ve given our fossil record an Incomplete with just one week to make up the credit or get an F! There is no proof whatsoever for the theory of dinosaur extinction other than our desire that it happen today to certain members of the Republican Party.

But we do now know one thing for certain: As the new species of clearly better looking mammals started populating the earth, the dinosaurs began to feel ugly, awkward, and socially unpopular. After millions of years as big man on campus, the dinosaurs found themselves morphing into a bunch of goofy losers!”

Eugene Potchka, Professor Emeritus of the University of Havertown PA, is the mentor of Dr. Lewitsky and often referred to as the “Father of the Goofy Losers Theory.”

Dr. Potchka….

“You have to remember, here’s this planet that’s only used to slimy disgusting things and all of a sudden there’s these adorable cute cuddly creatures bandying about everywhere that look something like Ewoks. And it seems to the dinosaurs like the very heavens and earth are going AWWWWWWW!!!!”

Although pterodactyls and a few other enterprising dinosaurs tried to compete by evolving feathers and chirping, most dinosaurs withdrew from primordial society and stayed home building model airplanes and baking fudge. It’s the movie Marty all over again but this time instead of Ernest Borgnine, picture Godzilla.”

High in the Peruvian mountains Professor Samantha Earthy, a more attractive than you’d expect colleague of Drs. Lewitsky and Potchka, is supervising the excavation of molars from the mouths of some indigenous cash-strapped locals. Dr. Earthy often accompanies Dr. Letwitsky on paleontological digs when he can secure sufficient funding for her participation and convince his wife she actually has a college degree.

Dr. Earthy….

“I’m standing on the outskirts of the remote village of Muchacho, Peru where the major native pastimes are dysentery and running in terror from rampaging lava spewing from neighboring Mount Eruptus, and in front of an enormous crater measuring over half the size of Donald Trump’s wig.”

“Ever hear the expression ‘wish you could just dig yourself a hole and hide in it?’ 

Well, realizing their time was regularly being beaten by the much cuter mammals, that’s precisely what the highly embarrassed dinosaurs of 65 million years ago opted to do. 

Traditional paleontologists still think an enormous meteor that wiped out the dinosaurs caused this crater, but frankly, the traditional paleontologists who think this are even bigger douchebags than the dinosaurs themselves!”

But if the supposition of Professors Lewitsky, Potchka, and Earthy is accurate that dinosaurs yet survive today, where are they? Why don’t we see them? Why don’t they eat us, especially those of us who smell good?

One school of thought is that we actually do encounter dinosaurs all the time, but they are so lacking in cool that we look right through them!

Dr. Lewitsky….

“There are more than a few historical references which indicate that dinosaurs may be alive and among us. Thomas Jefferson himself noted in his personal journal that  ‘All men are created equal, but New England Episcopalians are distinctly favored for breakfast by T-Rex.’

And many today assert that Democratic political strategist James Carville is in fact a highly evolved velociraptor, an assertion which Republican political strategist Mary Matalin has never denied.

And so, the battle lines are drawn. On one side the traditionalist paleontologists who contend that dinosaurs are indeed extinct and if you were to encounter one today, you’d run like the dickens, if we can use that expression on PBS without jeopardizing our federal funding.

On the other side lie the cutting edge views of Professors Lewitsky, Earthy, and Potchka which hold that you may very well come face to face with a dinosaur one of these days, and if it should happen, you’d hardly run.

You’d give him his noogies.

The debate yet rages.

Next Time on Nova: New discoveries all but verify the legitimacy of String Theory and of a parallel world in which conservatives have control over the National Endowment of the Arts and NPR consists solely of 24/7 broadcasts of Car Talk.

This is PBS.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~