Dreft Beer

I was going through my phone's photos and found this fun picture from a restaurant near my old apartment in Miami. See if you can spot the spelling error. I'll give you a hint - there's an orange explosion behind it.

In their defense, Dreft is actually a line of baby-friendly cleaning supplies, and it's arrogant for us to assume that they couldn't have also gotten into brewing.

Worst analogies ever

Ok, so it's been a little while since I've posted. I'm trying, ok? Shamelessly copied and pasted from a funny email my mom sent me, highlighting the worst analogies from stories submitted  in creative writing classes (if they wanted credit, they should have attached an MLA citation. Jeez.)

Some of these are actually really clever, whether by mistake or otherwise. Enjoy:

• He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

• They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.

• She caught your eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to dangle from screen doors and would fly up whenever you banged the door open again.

• The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.

• McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty Bag filled with vegetable soup.

• From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and "Jeopardy" comes on at 7 p.m. instead of 7:30.
• Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze.

• Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center.

• Bob was as perplexed as a hacker who means to access T:flw.quid55328.com\aaakk/ch@ung but gets T:\flw.quidaaakk/ch@ung by mistake.

• Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

• He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.

• The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

• Her date was pleasant enough, but she knew that if her life was a movie this guy would be buried in the credits as something like "Second Tall Man."

• Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

• The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the period after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can.

• John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

• The thunder was ominous-sounding, much like the sound of a thin sheet of metal being shaken backstage during the storm scene in a play.

• His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

• The red brick wall was the color of a brick-red Crayola crayon.
  

Writing tips from five people who can write way better than you (and how you can apply it to blog writing)

Mark Twain's Rules of Writing: there are few things more scorching

 than a Twain essay. James Feinmore Cooper got pwned in this one.

How you can apply it to blog writing: "A (blog) shall accomplish something and arrive somewhere," and "the (posts) of a (blog) shall be necessary parts of the (blog), and shall help develop it." In short, every blog needs a theme and every post needs to relate to that theme.

This is a writing blog. All the posts relate to writing. If your theme is any more complicated than that, chances are it's not very good.

Kurt Vonnegut's How to Write with Style: what a dude — at 115 years old, he was still touring college campuses and making female lit. majors swoon. How to Write with Style typifies his cool literary voice and provides true writing wisdom.

How you can apply it to blog writing: pity your readers. Don't use technical or unnecessarily complex vocabulary or references unless it relates to your theme (e.g., pwned—ok in a gaming blog, not ok in a writing blog). Limit paragraphs to a few sentences. State your point at the beginning of the post and stick to it.

And just because stream of consciousness is cathartic (note: stream of consciousness and cathartic—ok for a writing blog) doesn't mean it's being kind to your readership.

Ernest Hemingway's 5 rules for writing well (as told by copyblogger): I hated Hemingway short stories in high school. He's an acquired taste, for sure, but he's cited as one of the greatest writers of all time for a reason, and his writing tips are (intentionally or unintentionally) emulated by the most successful bloggers.

How you can apply it to blog writing: Use short sentences. They're more effective.

Jonathan Swift on style (as told by About.com): Jonathan Swift is the original Maddox and "A Modest Proposal" is the original smartass blog post, written 275 years before the internet.

How you can apply it to blog writing: Don't use cliches or common phrases, especially if they don't fit or you don't know exactly what it means. Nothing reads worse than 'fun and games,' 'fast and furious,' 'sick and tired,' 'short and sweet' or 'prim and proper.' 

 Say exactly what you mean—proper words in proper places—and if you don't know what you mean, then it's back to the drawing board.

George Orwell's six questions/six rules: Orwell's "1984" has inspired governmental paranoia, Janice Joplin and even 10 seasons of reality TV on CBS.  He must be doing something right to create one of the most timeless and disturbing literary themes of all time.

How you can apply it to blog writing: break any literary rule if it makes your writing sound ridiculous. 

Nobel Prize fight

I hate Horace Engdahl. The nobel judge of literature from Sweden announced a week before the award was to be given that American writers are too ignorant to compete for writing's top prize, effectively dashing in advance any hopes U.S. authors had of winning this year's award. And after the top U.S. literary authorities were predictably insulted and fired back, Engdahl did the most loathsome - and typically European - thing possible - he said he was surprised by the "violent" reaction from America and he didn't see what the big deal was about.

They ended up giving it to French writer Jean-Marie Gustave Le Clezio, who no doubt writes in a rigid, romantic style that suits Engdahl's narrow-minded definition of literature.

So our best move as Americans right now? Perhaps it's to point out that the U.S. has won more Nobel prizes in literature than Engdahl's native Sweden (8-6.5)? Or mention, as The New Yorker editor David Remnick did, the historic overlooking of Proust, Joyce and Nabokov for the prize, three huge gaffes in hindsight? Or maybe bring up the fact that by his own admission, one of the top Nobel judges is a bigot and allows his personal beliefs to affect his opinion of the literature he judges, severely damaging the credibility of the Nobel Prize for Literature?

What a butthole.

A veiled insult

"Men look strong, look powerful and capable, but on the inside they're insecure like everybody else."

--Gary Neuman (no, not that Gary Numan) from The Oprah Winfrey Show, as quoted by CNN.com

Gary Neuman is a lady's man. No, not the funny-SNL-sketch-turned-into-sub-par-feature-film type; he's more the Nicholas-Sparks-pee-sitting-down type. His new book, "Why Men Cheat," discusses the emotional needs of committed men and how infidelity can happen if those needs are not met, all the while coaching women on how to tell if their man is cheating and ways to get back at him (ok, so I don't know if it's actually in his book, but the article on CNN.com is linked to at least three different catch-your-man-in-the-act pieces. Plus the guy was on Oprah. That's -50 right there.)

Now look at the above quote. I'm no anthropologist, but aren't there only two types of people—men and women? Unless he's also addressing the transgendered or one of the other LGBTGIF's (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Thank God It's Friday), it's pretty clear what he's saying. Here, I'll even offset it in it's own paragraph and quote him:

"All women are insecure" --Gary Neuman

I'm no Susan B., but I'd be pretty insulted if I were a confident woman. Sure, go ahead and say it—there's no such thing as a confident woman—hahahahahahaha... hahahahaha... ha ha ha... heh, heh... but generalizing that all women as insecure is just as bad as saying all men cheat because they're secretly insecure. 

What does this have to do with writing (you know, the poorly emphasized theme of this blog?) Precision of language. Not political correctness—far from it, in fact—but using the exact words to convey your message.

What Gary should have said is "Men cheat because they are secretly insecure... actually, I don't really even know what I'm talking about. I actually just came to talk about your new book-of-the-month, Oprah. It's Nicholas Sparks, right?"

The worst song ever written

So we knew in '94 that Weezer would never make an album as good as the blue one (seriously, every song on that album is amazing. Easily one of the top 10 albums in the last 20 years.) but their steady  decline in album quality in favor of singles has peaked (or bottomed out) with this year's Red Album.

Sure, Pork 'n' Beans is catchy and the video is creative, but if you take a listen to the rest of the album, you'll notice most of the other songs are sub-par, both in lyrics and melody. And then you listen to Troublemaker. 

Have you ever heard how the phrase 'cellar door' is widely considered the most linguistically beautiful spoken phrase in English? Well, if you took the opposite of that and set it to music, it would sound an awful lot like Weezer's Troublemaker. Forced rhymes, non-sensical lyrics and grammar that would make e.e. cummings blush; this song's got them all.

Listen to the audio and follow along with the lyrics, so while listening to it and thinking, "Hmmm, I must have misunderstood what he said, those lyrics are just too stupid," you can check the lyrics and find that yes, in fact, lead singer Rivers Cuomo is saying exactly what you thought you heard.

Go ahead, I'll wait...

...

...

...

...ok, if you haven't double-Van Gough'ed yourself by now, let's break this down:

Put me in a special school

'Cause  I am such a fool

And I don't need a single book

To teach me how to read

Who needs stupid books?

They are for petty crooks

And I will learn by studying the lessons in my dreams

First off, school and  fool are in the words-you-must-never-rhyme-in-a-song-if-you-want-people-to-take-you-seriously column, right next to life and wife and air and don't care. So we haven't gotten past the first rhyming couplet and we're already kitsch. Great! 

Next, how might you propose learning to read without the use of books? Sure, one might pick up a magazine or newspaper, but basal readers like Dick and Jane are a lot easier for an illiterate to understand than Vanity Fair or The Wall Street Journal. Even USA Today is written for an 8th grade reading level, which clearly the songwriter has yet to achieve.

So books are for petty crooks? First of all, if you graphed the number of petty crime convictions in any demographic (x) and the number books read over any amount of time(y), the end result would always end up looking like the upper right-hand side of a circle. 

In any event, I've got a book that may interest you; it's called Songwriting for Dummies, and it's only $14.95 on Amazon! Might be a good investment with that royalty check.

On to the next verse:

So turn off the TV

'Cause that's what others see

And movies are as bad as eating chocolate ice cream

They only sicken me

Don't let me play football

I'll sack the quarterback and jack the brother of the ball

I'll ignore the first two lines because they might hold up in an average song, but we the listeners are then greeted with the worst analogy of all time. Movies are as bad as eating chocolate ice cream? What? How can you compare those two things? First of all, eating chocolate ice cream is wonderful, and I am therefore forced to deduce that movies are great as well. But then you go on to explain that they both sicken you. How can you compare eating something that actually enters your body and chemically interacts with your digestive system with the potential to make you physically ill (even though it's chocolate ice cream; is there anything that settles your stomach more?) with watching a movie that doesn't chemically interact with your body at all? Also, being struck ill by such a broad category as movies? There's quite a bit of difference between Citizen Kane and Gigli. Movies cover a lot of topics and chances are if you have any interests or hobbies at all, especially troublemaking, then there's probably a movie out there for you.

Presumably in an attempt to cover up the previous lyrics, the song suddenly switches topics to sports. Now he is correct that sacking the quarterback is something that happens in football (kudos!), but jack(ing) the brother of the ball is not a legal play in any of the playbooks I consulted while researching this article. From the description I would imagine it means stealing a basketball, which according to my research has nothing to do with football.

Still with me? You brave soul. On to the chorus:

I'm a troublemaker

Never been a faker

Doing things my own way

And never giving up

I'm a troublemaker

Not a double-taker

I don't have the patience to keep it on the up

I'll even spot you the unimaginative rhymes for troublemaker, but you definitely can't rhyme up with up (see also: words-you-must-never-rhyme-in-a-song-if-you-want-people-to-take-you-seriously) and the logical paradox of never giving up and not having the patience to keep it on the up blows my mind. Please note that they repeat this three more times in the song, but I will not be revisiting it for fear of elbow-dropping my computer screen. Next verse:

I picked up a guitar

What does it signify?

I'm gonna play some heavy metal riffs and you will die

You wanted arts and crafts

How's this for arts and crafts?

Wa-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh (that's right)

It looks like Cuomo subscribes to Patton Oswalt's theory of '80s metal and its ability to blow people away, so I'll give him a point for good taste in stand-up comics. But I'm going to have to deduct five points for rhyming the same word again (crafts) and copping out of a final line by using the sound effect that the six million dollar man makes when he's doing something superhuman.

I'm growing out my hair

I'm moving out to Cherokee

I'm gonna be a rock star and you will go to bed with me

'Cause I can't work a job

Like any other slob

Punching in and punching out and sucking up to Bob

I certainly understand the part about wanting to be a rock star for the girls, but since the band is from Los Angeles, they might have a wider selection of women at home than if they move to Cherokee, which has only 10-15 residents and is considered a ghost town.

Then comes the matter of the mysterious Bob. Who is he? Where does he work? What do his friends think about him getting mentioned in a Weezer song? Is he, too, a slob like his co-workers? Looks like we'll never know since the verse is over. Next:

Marrying a bitch

Having seven kids

Giving up and growing old 

And hoping there's a God

Why would you marry a woman you think is a bitch? And then why on earth would you have seven children with her? I mean, Los Angeles has to have more divorce lawyers than women. 

I'm gonna be a star

And people will crane necks

To get a glimpse of me and see if I'm having sex

And studying my moves

To try to understand

Why I am so unlike the singers in the other bands

So now the rhyme scheme changes up from aabccb to abbcdd? Whatever. And unless you're doing it in public, people shouldn't be able to see you having sex. Plus unless it's with her, your bitch wife would probably won't approve.

It's such a mystery

As anyone can see

There isn't anybody else exactly quite like me

And when it's party time

Like 1999

I'll party by myself because I'm such a special guy

Pointing out the fact that time, nine and guy don't rhyme is a bit like worrying about a blood stain after getting shot. And I suppose pointing out that biologically, there isn't anybody exactly like anybody else is also like shooting a dead horse. But I definitely have to point out that party(ing) by myself is an obvious masturbatory euphemism, which concisely wraps up my sentiments on this song.

I can't blame Weezer for this aural holocaust since by focusing on writing hit singles, they have to get the 40-year-old balding suits with ponytails to fill in the other nine tracks. But this song definitely serves as a warning for quality control on albums. 

I mean, it's your name on this shit.

The most grammatically offensive sports team names

They’ve finally got a name for their NBA franchise in OKC—the horribly generic and grammatically suspect Oklahoma City Thunder. While myriad online lists chronicle the funniest, worst and most unique sports team names, let's explore the grammarian's least favorite athletic monikers:

Any singular team name—in addition to sounding like they play in a sub-par league like the WNBA, NBDL, AFL or MLS, the singular team name confuses the subject-verb agreement when referring to sports clubs. It makes grammatical sense (but not logical sense) to say “the Atlanta Hawks are the best team in the NBA,” but confusion abounds when the Utah Jazz have a shot at the Western Conference Championship.

Note: It looks like the 2008 AP Stylebook now defines this rule for singular team and band names. I’m still working on 2003. Sorry.

Columbus Blue Jackets—a bluejacket is another name for an enlisted man or woman in the U.S. or British Navy, but it's one word. It looks like a stab at the Red/White Sox clothing formula, but people in Columbus definitely don’t have enough of the circular reasoning of Red Sox fans to justify such a silly name.

San Francisco 49ers/Philadelphia 76ers— come on folks, this is Comp 100. Years abbreviated with the last two numbers start with commas. ‘49ers and ‘76ers, please.

Presbyterian College Blue Hose— this South Carolina school should be fined by whatever conference they’re in for such an ambiguous name. Is it singular, as in “I used a blue hose to fill my water balloons,” or plural, like “I have a run in my blue hose.”

 Apparently the latter—according to the school’s athletic site—which was changed from the Presbyterian Blue Stockings in the 1950s, presumably because it sounded too masculine.

 

Harvard Crimson—while several other universities use similar color name formulas, the folks at Harvard should know better. At least Alabama is a Crimson something. And that’s in Alabama.

 

Montreal Canadiens—I’m aware that everyone in Montreal thinks French is a superior language, but your hockey team plays in an American league. It’s not like they call them Los Cargadores de San Diego or El Calor de Miami, even though more people in both cities would understand. Just help us out and spell it C-A-N-A-D-I-A-N-S. Thanks.

 

The Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim—wait, what? Where is their stadium? Anaheim? Then why aren’t they the Anaheim Angels? Because the new owner wanted more fans from LA to buy tickets? Then why don’t they just call them the Los Angeles Angels? Or a region or state like the Florida Marlins, Carolina Panthers, Golden State Warriors, New England Patriots, Minnesota Vikings, Tennessee Titans, Arizona Cardinals, Indiana Pacers, Minnesota Timberwolves, New Jersey Nets, Utah Jazz, Arizona Diamondbacks, Colorado Rockies, Minnesota Twins, Texas Rangers, Carolina Hurricanes, New Jersey Devils, Florida Panthers or the Colorado Avalanche? Because it’s dangerous, outside-the-box thinking, you say? Oh.

 

The Toronto Maple Leafs—the plural of leaf is leaves. Damn Canadiens.

Harlequin Times

So it's not like they're reporting on foreign policy or the presidential race, but this AJC story today about a dog who saves a man's life reads more like a Harlequin romance novel than a news article.

Among the many journalistic offenses are the lack of quoted sources corroborating the telling of events, the forced use of inaccurate adjectives, the unnecessary building of drama through use of excessively short sentences and paragraphs and the lack of a date telling when this actually happened.

Here are some delightful excerpts:

"...but Charley kept pacing back and forth, back and forth. Barking. Frances Gippert had never seen her canine friend like this. His bark reminded her of a baby's distressed cry."

"Gippert spotted a man lying among the shrubs, back against the hot ground, semiconscious." You sure the ground was hot? Were you there? Usually ground next to shrubs is grassy and cool.

(offset as its own paragraph) "Tell him I love him, Bill told her. Tell him to hang on."

"By then, she could hear sirens in the distance. Help was on the way."

Maybe if they covered foreign policy like this, more people would read the paper instead of skipping to the sodoku or sports page.

This license plate is not only redundant, it's also redundant

Found on the car I parked next to on 9th Street in Midtown Atlanta. I know the song lyric "Our God is an Awesome God," but when you remove the possessive, shouldn't it turn into "God is Awesome?" I can only assume the red splatter is the blood of creationists they ran over on the way home.

New theme

After taking inventory of things that I 1. care about, 2. know about and 3, see a need for, I've decided to steer the theme of this blog toward writing. 

I know what you're thinking: Another blog encouraging bad writers to write and get their bad writing published. Far from the truth. I am far more interested in turns of phrase, wit, diction, words, brevity, recognizing good writing and lambasting bad prose. Most messages on earth are communicated through words, and most of those messages need serious editing. Enter Jonathan. He's here to help.

If you want to review my credentials, check out my resume or writing samples. 

This is what a $28 haircut looks like

Ok, let me back up. I am going to my cousin's wedding this weekend. I needed a haircut, so I went to the one near the drug store as I was getting a prescription refill. It had the name Salon in the title, which should have been my first clue. As I walked in, there were no posted prices, which of course should have been the second clue. They asked me if I had an appointment. Clue #3. 

I said no, but they whisked me away anyway and ended up in the back chair with an older lady named Ann. She starts in with the clippers and some small talk, while I try to keep up. I look at the counter. There's a little vial, no more than a couple of ounces, laying on its side with its bottom facing me exposing the price tag. $16. Holy shit. Then it hits me. This haircut is going to cost me.

I get myself mentally prepared for the payout as Ann canvasses my head five times with various scissors, clippers and other implements. She tries to get me in the shampoo room. Not happening. 

I am actually relieved when the guy at the front only asks for $28, as all I could think of in the chair was John Edward's $400 pompadour and that Midtown Atlanta seems like the type of place where that might fly.

The kicker? It's a really good haircut. One of the best I've ever gotten. Once I'm back in the workforce, this might have to be an occasional luxury.

AAAAAAAHHHHH!!!

Jonathan: The Complete Works 2002-08

In response to several writing sample requests I have received over my most recent job hunt, I have linked to nearly everything I have ever written on the website. Still lacking are most of my press releases that never made it online, a few works from Hawks.com, freelanced stories from the Cary News and all of 2003 from the Chautauquan Daily. But if you still can't tell if you like my writing after reviewing all the posted articles, you probably can't read.

Shaq posterization by former teammate?

Photo from Espn.com's lead story today.

First thoughts: Hey, isn't that Dwyane Wade dunking on Big Diesel, bloated from an inactive off-season in PHX and too many trips to Whataburger? He's really let himself go since the trade. And what the Hell is he doing playing for Greece? I can't believe I spent $14.99 on Shaq Diesel.

No, you say? That's actually Sofoklis Schortsanitis, whose nickname is Baby Shaq? Oh. I guess I should call the MBPD and get him reinstated. 

Googling all over myself

I submitted my website to google a few days ago, and I'm already #1 when you search my name in quotes. I'm still not 100 percent sure how SEO works, but I'm hoping to corner the market on my first and last name individually, and put Jonathan Karl out of business.

Why I love the AJC

Whoever is scanning the AP wire for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution's international news desk should be commended for running this gem on the website Monday. Russian invasion of Georgia? Yawn. Worsening human rights crisis in Darfur? Bor-ing. US tourists hacked to death with a machete in Guatemala? Getting warmer...

Wait, a 700-pound man was forklifted to a lake in Northern Mexico Sunday, where he "snacked on fish and vegetables and joked with a local boat operator?" Now that's news!

New Business Cards

I would so hire me.

Jim Crow's Tavern

Joe Barry Carroll, a former NBA All-Star with the Hawks, filed a Federal lawsuit Wednesday because he and his friend were asked to leave the Tavern at Phipps  because they declined the staff's request to give up their seats at the bar to two women. It's the South—not that big of a deal, right?

Now insert race: Carroll and his friend are black, and the two women were white. According to the lawsuit, there were several white males sitting at the bar, but none were asked to give up their seats for the ladies, while staff members repeatedly targeted the two black males to stand up after they declined.

Sounds abhorrent. But racism, like rape, is sometimes a tough crime to prove. You need to know intent and if nobody throws out a slur, it's hard to differentiate between two African-American men who were unfairly targeted to stand up for white women and then removed or two buttholes who wouldn't abide by restaurant policy. And since the incident happened two years ago, witnesses' accounts may not be quite as sharp.

If Carroll and his friend were discriminated against because of his color, they justly deserve as much money as the courts allow. And forcing anyone to give up their seats after they decline is just bad business. But yelling "racists!" can be as problematic as yelling "rapists!"— just ask Mike Nifong.

Let's just get to know each other first...

Who are you?

My name is Jonathan, and I live in Midtown Atlanta. I'm currently looking for full-time PR work in the greater Atlanta area.

What's this all about?

This blog is pretty much a continuation of one I hosted on my own site for a few months, but realized that to do all of the cool things like RSS, posting multimedia and getting readers, I was going to have to either take a web course or get on Blogger. And I saved $495 by switching to Blogger!

What can I expect to read about here?

This will be primarily focused on sports, culture, news and other goings-on in Atlanta, with a little wiggle room for assorted tomfoolery.

So Jonathan?

Yes?

Nevermind.

No, what?

Well, it's just that... if you're looking for a job, shouldn't you be job hunting on a weekday? 

Umm...