Driving to work the other day and I pulled up behind a car plastered with patriotic bumper stickers. “Proud to be an American!” one proclaimed. “These colors don’t run!” asserted another. There was a standalone American flag, a 9/11 remembrance sticker, and several others, all announcing a love for and pride in anything American.

The car was a Nissan.

I always like a little hypocrisy in the morning; makes the day go faster.

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My memory is shot. I say that, not because of the things I forget (which are legion), but because of the things I remember. For instance, all day today, for no discernible reason, do you know what I’ve had running through my head? The Cheese Song they used to run on ABC Saturday morning cartoons. No reason for it. It’s just there, repeating over and over again. I couldn’t tell you my mother’s birthday right this second but, with absolutely no coaxing, I can recite “When I’m dancing a hoe-down/and my boots kinda slow down/or any time I’m weak in the knees.”

Why the hell do I still remember this? What possible good will it do me? I can’t remember how to properly find the area of a circle (something about pi-r-squared, but damned if I know what that means), but I can hear that freakish little whatever-hell-he-was croaking about “hankering fer a hunk a’ cheese” like he was on TV right now. And don’t judge me; you’re the same. Don’t believe me? Try this little test: Quick, without looking, without thinking about it, what’s the capital of North Dakota? Now, also without looking, name the six Brady kids. Which question was easier? I’m willing to bet the one with the six answers rolled off your brain with nary a pause (Marcia, Jan, Cindy, Bobby, Peter, Greg) while the lone answer (Bismarck) you had to really dig for and may not have gotten at all.

TV doesn’t rot your brain; it just fills it up.

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So, is Dr. Doom an actual doctor? I know he studied with Reed Richards for a while, but then he kinda blew his face off in an accident, which is going to affect your studies. So did he ever finish his doctorate, or is the title of “Doctor” merely honorary? What about Dr. Strange? What is he a doctor of, exactly?

And what about the folks who seem to be doctors but aren’t called doctor? Tony Stark seems like he should be sporting a couple of Ph.D’s but no one ever calls him Dr. Stark. Same with Reed Richards. And Professor Xavier: doctor or not?

Yes, this is where my mind goes when my weekends are kind of slow.

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So, a guy goes in for surgery, and the doctors scrub up to sterilize themselves. Everyone involved in the procedure dons masks, gloves, those little shower caps, all to keep from spreading germs in the operating room. And yet, they let the sick guy just go on in. No scrubbing, no mask, I’m not even sure if they put a shower cap on him. So he’s already sick and now he’s breathing germs all over their pristine O.R. Sure he’s not actually jamming his hands into his own gut, but he’s got to be spraying some filth around and it seems likely that some of it’s going to wind up in that gaping hole in his chest.

I dunno, it just seems like they’re missing a pretty big gap in their security system.

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I heard that phrase on the news the other day: So-and-so was “a victim of a senseless crime.” And you know, I don’t think that’s true. By and large, I’m not sure there are that many senseless crimes, no matter how bizarre. Just because it doesn’t make sense to us doesn’t make it senseless. Think about it, if someone chops up some co-eds, eats their eyes, and wears their entrails like a hat, I have to imagine it made sense to the guy at the time. We may not understand it, but the dude definitely had a reason. That’s not really a spur of the moment kind of thing.

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