"For decades, shoppers have taken advantage of coupons. Now, the coupons are taking advantage of the shoppers" ("Web Coupons Know Lots about You. And They Tell").
When did Yakov Smirnoff start writing for The New York Times?
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
More Taxing Times
Yesterday, we complained about owing taxes--not paying taxes, mind you: owing them. We expressed befuddlement at the government's apparent inability to simply withhold the proper amount throughout the year, thus sparing us the discomfort of having to fork over a large lump sum at one perhaps inopportune moment. We were then taken to task by the Research Department for not being a "math person." We freely acknowledged this (despite the fact that we have often supplemented our income as a math tutor--but that's another story for another day), but pointed out that, to us, this is really not a math issue so much as an administrative one. The Research Department then explained that a math person would keep track of where s/he stood taxwise throughout the year and plan accordingly. We reiterate: This is an administrative issue. Sure, we could keep track of where we stood all throughout the year--math person or not--but why should we have to? Why can't the government's financial wizards--math people all, presumably--simply do the calculations and withhold accordingly?
(It should be noted that the Research Department has a somewhat libertarian bent, so we are expecting some extended commentary on the wisdom of entrusting one's personal financial well-being to the ministrations of governmental functionaries. Brace yourselves, folks!)
We also saw a headline yesterday about the Obamas' tax bill. They earned something like $5.8 million dollars last year and donated about a third of that amount to charitable causes.
Speaking of presidential income, what do you think of the fact that the President of the United States' salary is $400,000 a year. No trifling sum, to be sure--we would take it. Then again, when you consider that C. C. Sabathia makes about $500,000 per game for the Yankees, $400 grand for leading the free world seems like a relative bargain.
More interesting was the breakdown of the salary. Here, in a Solipsistic exclusive, we present a line item breakdown of the President and Mrs. Obama's income:
Nobel Peace Prize $1.3 million
Dividends $2 million
Royalties $2 million
Wages $400,000
Part-time job at Wal-Mart (evening shift) $100,000 (Really!)
Birthday check from Michelle's Mom to Barack $20
(It should be noted that the Research Department has a somewhat libertarian bent, so we are expecting some extended commentary on the wisdom of entrusting one's personal financial well-being to the ministrations of governmental functionaries. Brace yourselves, folks!)
We also saw a headline yesterday about the Obamas' tax bill. They earned something like $5.8 million dollars last year and donated about a third of that amount to charitable causes.
Speaking of presidential income, what do you think of the fact that the President of the United States' salary is $400,000 a year. No trifling sum, to be sure--we would take it. Then again, when you consider that C. C. Sabathia makes about $500,000 per game for the Yankees, $400 grand for leading the free world seems like a relative bargain.
More interesting was the breakdown of the salary. Here, in a Solipsistic exclusive, we present a line item breakdown of the President and Mrs. Obama's income:
Nobel Peace Prize $1.3 million
Dividends $2 million
Royalties $2 million
Wages $400,000
Part-time job at Wal-Mart (evening shift) $100,000 (Really!)
Birthday check from Michelle's Mom to Barack $20
Thursday, April 15, 2010
A Taxing Time
Whew! Exhausted! Just got back from protesting outside our local IRS branch. Surprisingly, we were alone. And when did IRS employees start wearing those all brown uniforms? Seems somewhat fascist. There were certainly an overabundance of boxes and mailing supplies. . . .
Oh, well.
Seriously, though, we don't actually mind paying taxes. Unlike (it seems) the majority of the population, we generally appreciate those things that the government provides: roads, fire protection, education, national defense. We really don't object to paying our share.
The only thing that annoys us is when we owe money--as we did to the state this year. We don't understand why, when the government takes money out of our paycheck every month, they can't just take, y'know, the RIGHT amount? It's not as if we're hiding income somewhere, so it comes as a more than rude shock to find we owe an extra thousand dollars or so. We feel that, if the state neglected to collect the proper amount of money, then it's their loss.
You may say, "Well, Solipsist, that's the way it goes. And if the government always took the right amount of money, then you wouldn't get that nice federal refund." True enough, but, again, we would have had a couple of hundred more dollars a month throughout 2009. We would forego the refund in exchange for not having to worry about owing any additional money and getting a few extra bucks in our pocket throughout the year.
You wouldn't think this would be that complicated, would you?
Oh, well.
Seriously, though, we don't actually mind paying taxes. Unlike (it seems) the majority of the population, we generally appreciate those things that the government provides: roads, fire protection, education, national defense. We really don't object to paying our share.
The only thing that annoys us is when we owe money--as we did to the state this year. We don't understand why, when the government takes money out of our paycheck every month, they can't just take, y'know, the RIGHT amount? It's not as if we're hiding income somewhere, so it comes as a more than rude shock to find we owe an extra thousand dollars or so. We feel that, if the state neglected to collect the proper amount of money, then it's their loss.
You may say, "Well, Solipsist, that's the way it goes. And if the government always took the right amount of money, then you wouldn't get that nice federal refund." True enough, but, again, we would have had a couple of hundred more dollars a month throughout 2009. We would forego the refund in exchange for not having to worry about owing any additional money and getting a few extra bucks in our pocket throughout the year.
You wouldn't think this would be that complicated, would you?
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Jegging-Clad Cilantrophobes
As you know, we are all about expanding the vocabulary of our benighted followers. So here are a couple of words we've come across in the paper over the last few days. Make sure to add them to your vocabulary journals, people.
1. JEGGINGS (N.) - A new fashion craze: jeans so tight that they appear to be leggings.
This, incidentally, is an example of a portmanteau word: A word formed by combining parts of other words, very popular in the animal kingdom: A Cocker Spaniel-Poodle mix is a cockapoo; a lion-tiger mix is a liger; a horse and zebra form a hebra (very common in Israeli zoos); and mules and donkeys get together to produce monkeys.
2. CILANTROPHOBE (N.) - As you might expect, this is someone who hates cilantro. Hey, don't snicker: It's serious enough that people have conducted research on the condition:
1. JEGGINGS (N.) - A new fashion craze: jeans so tight that they appear to be leggings.
This, incidentally, is an example of a portmanteau word: A word formed by combining parts of other words, very popular in the animal kingdom: A Cocker Spaniel-Poodle mix is a cockapoo; a lion-tiger mix is a liger; a horse and zebra form a hebra (very common in Israeli zoos); and mules and donkeys get together to produce monkeys.
2. CILANTROPHOBE (N.) - As you might expect, this is someone who hates cilantro. Hey, don't snicker: It's serious enough that people have conducted research on the condition:
"Some people may be genetically predisposed to dislike cilantro, according to often-cited studies by Charles J. Wysocki of the Monell Chemical Senses Center in Philadelphia. But cilantrophobe genetics remain little known and aren't under systematic investigation" (from The New York Times).
Indeed, a ban on such investigations is a little-known clause of the Geneva Conventions, the ramifications of seasoning-based weapons of mass destruction being too dread to consider.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
A Brief Post, in Which We Express an Utter Lack of Sympathy for Worldly Deities
Today, back to back, the local classic rock station played Jackson Browne's "The Load Out" ("Oh, won't you sta-a-ay / Just a little bit longer?") followed by Bob Seger's "Turn the Page." We hereby officially declare that we cannot muster any sympathy for rock stars who lament life on the road. Sure, it must be rough, being adored night after night by thousands of screaming fans, making scads of money and having wild sex with as many women/men/goats as you like. We can't comprehend why they continue to subject themselves to it--well, except for the screaming fans, scads of money and wild sex. . . .
Talk about solipsists!
Talk about solipsists!
Monday, April 12, 2010
Inertia Week
For anyone who has ever doubted the validity of Newton's first law of motion, we present in evidence the return of students and teachers from Spring Break.
Talk about objects at rest tending to stay there!
In fairness, inertia applies to all fields of human endeavour--animal endeavour, too. You ever seen a bear fresh out of hibernation? It takes Smokey at least three days to shake off the drowsies and get up to full salmon grabbing, pic-a-nic basket swiping speed.
Bears are speed-junkies compared to college students, though. One of our colleagues had scheduled her class to meet in a computer lab today, the first day back from spring break. She was mystified when hardly any of her students showed up in the lab. She checked her regular classroom and found the bulk of her students patiently waiting there. "I don't get it," she exclaimed, "I told them we would be meeting in the computer lab today."
And, when did you tell them this, we asked?
"The day before vacation started."
The faith in humanity is touching, but woefully misplaced.
Talk about objects at rest tending to stay there!
In fairness, inertia applies to all fields of human endeavour--animal endeavour, too. You ever seen a bear fresh out of hibernation? It takes Smokey at least three days to shake off the drowsies and get up to full salmon grabbing, pic-a-nic basket swiping speed.
Bears are speed-junkies compared to college students, though. One of our colleagues had scheduled her class to meet in a computer lab today, the first day back from spring break. She was mystified when hardly any of her students showed up in the lab. She checked her regular classroom and found the bulk of her students patiently waiting there. "I don't get it," she exclaimed, "I told them we would be meeting in the computer lab today."
And, when did you tell them this, we asked?
"The day before vacation started."
The faith in humanity is touching, but woefully misplaced.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
They Shoot Nazis, Don't They
We're catching up on last year's Oscar contenders: We've now seen five of the 10 nominees. Here are our thoughts on Quentin Tarantino's offering, "Inglourious Basterds."
"Basterds" is a prime example of misleading marketing. First, as Dad-of-Solipsist has pointed out, all the film's promotion would lead you to believe that it's a Brad Pitt movie. Of course, it IS a Brad Pitt movie--in much the same way that"Precious" is a Mariah Carey movie. Pitt is certainly in the film and memorable as far as he goes, but his character, Aldo Raine, is hardly the main character. For one thing, Raine is utterly, unapologetically, and obviously intentionally two-dimensional. He first appears (about 20 minutes into the movie) as a cocky, ultraviolent Nazi-hunter, and by the end of the movie we come to know him as. . . a cocky, ultraviolent Nazi-hunter. Not that there's anything wrong with that: Some of our best friends could be ultraviolent Nazi-hunters. But, frankly, the part could have been played by anybody (though we're sure Tarantino and the film's producers were more than happy to have Pitt's box-office cache to hang the film on).
The film's main villain, the Nazi Colonel Hans Landa is more fully-developed than Lt. Raine. Played by Academy Award winner Christoph Waltz, Landa is gleefully homicidal in his hatred of Jews but more than willing to abandon ideology when it is in his interest to do so. The character with a true "arc" is Shosanna Dreyfus (Melanie Laurent), a Jewish movie-theater owner in occupied France. The sole-survivor of a family killed by the Nazis, she becomes an avenging angel--one whose motivations (unlike those of Aldo Raine) are all too clear.
Among the Basterds themselves, the most interesting character is Donowitz, "The Bear Jew," played by torture-porn director Eli Roth. The Bear Jew is the most graphically violent of Pitt's crew of Nazi-Hunters, but Roth provides one of the movie's "realest" moments when he (SPOILER ALERT!) kills Hitler during the film's climax. The look of sheer hatred in his eyes is one of the movie's most memorable images: For all the film's escapist fantasy and humor, this look reminds us--if only momentarily--of the true horror and evil behind the fictional events.
The other way that the marketing of "Basterds" is confusing is that the advertising would lead you to believe it is an action movie--"Kill Bill" with Nazis. In fact, with the exception of the climactic scene--a typical Tarantino grand guignol--the film is really more a series of one-act plays. Structured as a series of chapters, the film begins with what is essentially a dialogue between Hans Landa and a French farmer whom Landa suspects of sheltering Jews. The centerpiece of the movie takes place in a bar; the plot of this chapter literally hinges on dialogue--specifically, on the suspicious accent of an undercover "Basterd."
(Digression: We would love to get a report from a native German speaker about the suspicious accent; to us, all the German speakers sound basically the same. EOD)
(Additional Digression: Another interesting thing about the movie is how much of the dialogue takes place in languages other than English: German, French, and even mangled Italian. One wonders if it could have been submitted to the Academy for consideration as Best Foreign-Language Film. EOAD)
We enjoyed the movie, but we can't help but wonder if moviegoers felt betrayed when they bought a ticket to a Brad Pitt shoot-'em-up and were treated instead to suspenseful but chatty thriller.
"Basterds" is a prime example of misleading marketing. First, as Dad-of-Solipsist has pointed out, all the film's promotion would lead you to believe that it's a Brad Pitt movie. Of course, it IS a Brad Pitt movie--in much the same way that"Precious" is a Mariah Carey movie. Pitt is certainly in the film and memorable as far as he goes, but his character, Aldo Raine, is hardly the main character. For one thing, Raine is utterly, unapologetically, and obviously intentionally two-dimensional. He first appears (about 20 minutes into the movie) as a cocky, ultraviolent Nazi-hunter, and by the end of the movie we come to know him as. . . a cocky, ultraviolent Nazi-hunter. Not that there's anything wrong with that: Some of our best friends could be ultraviolent Nazi-hunters. But, frankly, the part could have been played by anybody (though we're sure Tarantino and the film's producers were more than happy to have Pitt's box-office cache to hang the film on).
The film's main villain, the Nazi Colonel Hans Landa is more fully-developed than Lt. Raine. Played by Academy Award winner Christoph Waltz, Landa is gleefully homicidal in his hatred of Jews but more than willing to abandon ideology when it is in his interest to do so. The character with a true "arc" is Shosanna Dreyfus (Melanie Laurent), a Jewish movie-theater owner in occupied France. The sole-survivor of a family killed by the Nazis, she becomes an avenging angel--one whose motivations (unlike those of Aldo Raine) are all too clear.
Among the Basterds themselves, the most interesting character is Donowitz, "The Bear Jew," played by torture-porn director Eli Roth. The Bear Jew is the most graphically violent of Pitt's crew of Nazi-Hunters, but Roth provides one of the movie's "realest" moments when he (SPOILER ALERT!) kills Hitler during the film's climax. The look of sheer hatred in his eyes is one of the movie's most memorable images: For all the film's escapist fantasy and humor, this look reminds us--if only momentarily--of the true horror and evil behind the fictional events.
The other way that the marketing of "Basterds" is confusing is that the advertising would lead you to believe it is an action movie--"Kill Bill" with Nazis. In fact, with the exception of the climactic scene--a typical Tarantino grand guignol--the film is really more a series of one-act plays. Structured as a series of chapters, the film begins with what is essentially a dialogue between Hans Landa and a French farmer whom Landa suspects of sheltering Jews. The centerpiece of the movie takes place in a bar; the plot of this chapter literally hinges on dialogue--specifically, on the suspicious accent of an undercover "Basterd."
(Digression: We would love to get a report from a native German speaker about the suspicious accent; to us, all the German speakers sound basically the same. EOD)
(Additional Digression: Another interesting thing about the movie is how much of the dialogue takes place in languages other than English: German, French, and even mangled Italian. One wonders if it could have been submitted to the Academy for consideration as Best Foreign-Language Film. EOAD)
We enjoyed the movie, but we can't help but wonder if moviegoers felt betrayed when they bought a ticket to a Brad Pitt shoot-'em-up and were treated instead to suspenseful but chatty thriller.
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