Knock.  Knock.

I was six years old playing downstairs in my grandma’s house in Stillwater, OK.  My brother was upstairs watching TV … probably Robotech.  My mother and my grandma were out, either at class or work.  I sat there with my naive, little kid brain wondering what I should do.  I opened the door.

Standing there, with the screen door already open, were two Chinese men.  Two Chinese men that embodied every Asian stereotype ever conceived.  Thick glasses, mismatched suits in 100 degree weather, and pants that were three inches too short.  To make things worse, they both bowed upon my appearance.  I’m surprised they didn’t have a bowl of noodles and chopsticks as well.

Rather, they were holding Bibles and religious leaflets.  They ask me in English more broken than Gary Busy’s psyche to come inside and tell me about Jesus.

So … I let them in. [Read Column]

I want to talk to you about a Big, Blue Car.

No, this is not an attempt to thwart copyright infringement against the Wiggles.  I am not making a competitive entry into the child’s entertainment market.  I am instead talking about my grandma’s signature car, the mother of all cars.  The 1984 Chevrolet Caprice Classic. [Read Column]

A long awaited return to my Vs. column.  Where my internal geek fights it out with my suppressed nerd.  In past battles, we’ve seen Sho’Nuff v. Drunken Master.  We’ve seen Namor v. Raiden and Blanka v. Sabretooth.  Hell, we’ve even seen seen the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man v. Mongo the Gingerbread Giant.  Now for our next matching – we’re heading into two distopian visions of the future.  One is a galaxy ruled by an iron-fisted empire and a emperor fueled by black magic.  The other is a cosmic battlefield torn apart by never ending wars by the great interstellar Houses.  It’s Star Wars vs. Battletech.

It’s the Imperial All Terrain Armored Transport Walker vs. AS7-D Atlas Assault Mech.

[Read Column]

I mentioned once in this column that my only superpower was my indomitable colon, a colon with a particular kryptonite.  But that doesn’t mean that I don’t have an array of Batman like skills that make me rather exceptional … if still only an ordinary human.  Call it Peak Human if you will.  Oh yes, I will.  Like Captain American and the Super Soldier Formula.  Some of these skills include the ability to loudly pop my ankle at will (a gift from soccer) or phonetic belching.

There is one skill though that was forged through long hours of pain and suffering, but when it came to fruition was masterfully used in absolute and total domination.  Pillow fighting. [Read Column]

I did not vote for Barack Obama.  Am I an avid supporter of his ideals of reform, hope, and change?  Definitely.  I did not vote for Darth Grandpa.  Also known as John McCain.  I loved him as a candidate in 2000, when he was pushing heavily for campaign reform as what I like to call a ‘rational’ Republican.  In 2010, he seemed more keen to carry the party line as the GOP antagonist.  He also unleashed the rampant force of anti-intellectualism that I call Sarah Palin from her icy cave.  I did not vote.

In truth, I have never voted.

And its not because I’m disinterested in the future of the United States.  Its because the American democracy is not a democracy at all. [Read Column]