Day: June 23 2010

The movie “Conan the Barbarian” taught me the following things about interpersonal relationships and foreign policy:

1. Steel is very important.  It is more important than air, earth, the sun, or mastery of the language you speak.
2. No amount of body painted camouflage will hide a 7’3, 300lb man with a 12 ft sword.  Especially when he runs around going, “Arrrrrghhhhh!”
3. If you can shoot a snake at someone with a bow and arrow… using the snake as the arrow… well that’s awesome… like “I was the voice of Darth Vader” awesome.
4. If you drink too much, don’t eat soup.  Pass out-suffocation risk!
5. Giant snakes prefer their human sacrifices to be naked and attractive ladies.  Ugly girls in heavy coats need not apply.
6. Snake Cult people have a horrible diet consisting mainly of green pudding and body parts.  Gross.  They also appear to be perpetually stoned.
7. James Earl Jones is a bully.
8. Hey California, that’s your governor in the loin cloth, drunk, punching that horse… just fyi.
9. Drawing complex crossword puzzles on people will bring them back from the dead.  If you’re the main character.  Everyone else gets hosed.
10. Wigs looked fake even in Barbarian times.
11. Having a cult has it’s benefits.  Sure, the protagonist wants to kill you but if you tell someone to jump off a cliff they’ll do it, boy howdy.  You also get all the free no-lye relaxer you want.
12. If Max Von Sydow had played Ming the Merciless in this movie, it would have made no sense… but I’d have watched it.
13. Crom is just Morc spelled backwards.  Barbarians were secretly worshiping aliens who looked like Robin Williams.
14. How come at the end of this movie Conan’s all old and has become king but at the beginning of the sequel he’s back to being a peon at 27 again?  I guess “Conan the Senior Citizen” isn’t good film.
15. If a Barbarian propositions you… no good will come of it.

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*Legal Note: Everything in this post is a lie.  I’ve made it up in the spirit of the 4th and under no circumstances have I ever been, or currently am, in possession of any illegal fireworks.  Nor have I ever illegally discharged or transported fireworks in the states of South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland or Pennsylvania. * 

I like fireworks.  I really do.  One of my fondest childhood memories is that of running through the woods at night playing “war” with BB guns and bottle rockets. I wasn’t as over the top as these guys below, but… well… dangerous or not, shooting fireworks at people is fun. Yes, I know. Bad. I’m not sure how I’ve lived as long as I have… but. Fun. Try it.

If you get bored… skip ahead to about the 4.20 mark.  Hope you like KISS.

It’s getting to be that time of year where blowing things up is marginally permissible.  In the state in which I live, Virginia (not paranoia), fireworks are legal as long as they don’t leave the ground or explode.  That pretty much eliminates all the fireworks worth having.  You’re stuck with fountains, sparklers, smoke bombs, and snakes.  Each of those has its own “fun” factor to it, but when you light a firework most people really want to see something fly around and then explode and lighting a fountain and throwing it doesn’t make up for the lack of selfpropelled goodness of a mortar shell or bottle rocket.  When I was younger, I would load up on fireworks during family trips to Myrtle Beach, SC.  I had a limited budget so I was stuck purchasing mainly firecrackers, jumping jacks and bottle rockets.  Not that those aren’t fun.  They were just small scale.

As an adult with a job, I was able to increase my firepower.

Fortunately for me, a mere 2.5 hour drive away is the state of Pennsylvania, where one can buy all the fun fireworks one can imagine.  (As long as you’re not a citizen of Pennsylvania.  Due to weird legal loophole you can sell fireworks in PA only to people who don’t live there.)  Phantom Fireworks has a store about the size of most grocery stores packed to the gills with boom sticks and whistley flying bits.  Not to mention my favorites, the 500 gram mortars. (500 grams is the largest amount of explosive material in a single device that you can sell to someone in the US without the ATF getting involved.  Of course, tape and extension fuses can make #500 turn into #1000-#1500 pretty easily.  Feel free to ask anyone who witnessed the white phosphorous shell I made that exploded at 30 feet off the ground instead of 300 at last years 4th of July party.  Everyone on the deck suffered temporary blindness.  Relax, I said temporary.)

So this year’s going to be a bit more low-key for the 4th.  No mega large booms in the yard.  I’ve got a few special mortar shells and boom sticks that I’ve saved from previous extravaganzas for certain special occassions (like tossing at punters on I-66).  Come to think of it… what a fun evening commute that would be.

So… I forgot the point of all of this.

Oh yeah.  Fireworks are fun and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.  I encourage everyone to go out and either blow something up yourselves or watch a pro do it.  (I bet my blog just made the Terrorist Watch List again.)  Try to stay away from the Washington DC mall area if you go see them though.  It’s hot, it’s gross, and it’s gross.  It’s also crowded and that’s no fun.  Better to set off some sparklers and watch cousin Bubba blow off his toe than to sit on the Metro with 4 million sweaty grossniks.  Seriously it is.  If you live in a state that allows cool fireworks, all the more reason to do it yourself.  Let your kids play too.  Don’t be that adult who won’t let kids play because they’re too busy entertaining their own inner child.  Let the kid light the fuse.  They’ll run away before it blows up… nothing to worry about.  And if they don’t run… the burning phosphorous wake up call will be good for them.  What’s the worst that could happen?

Also, I’m legally banned from having custody of children under the age of 47 in most of the eastern United States.

Jerks.

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