Today’s Moron: Greg Gutfeld

Dear Greg Gutfeld:

I know you’re supposed to be some kind of comedian, and I know your journalistic experience consists of working at Maxim magazine. And you have a show on Fox Stupid News in which you and some other winners poke fun at pop culture icons and discuss the news in a fun, light way. I get that. I do that myself. It’s called satire, and it’s an integral part of the media — in fact, it has been for as long as there’s been media.

But you went too far the other night, Greg, you stupid no-bag. Because you made fun of Canada’s military. You cast some real aspersions on the fighting forces of my country just as four more were dying in combat.

Did you and your pack of moronic puppies really not know that Canadians are on the ground, fighting, in the hottest hot zones in Afghanistan? Did you not know our soldiers are dying over there alongside American troops? Do you not understand that you can poke fun all you want, but you do not ever belittle an army at war?

Oh, wait, you apologized today: “However, I realize that my words may have been misunderstood. It was not my intent to disrespect the brave men, women and families of the Canadian military, and for that I apologize.”

Nobody misunderstood you, stupid. You said what you said, and your lame apology, which came only after our government insisted on it, makes it worse. Wait, no, you made it worse: you went on Twitter and wrote this: “My apologies to the Canadian military, they probably could at least beat the Belgians.” Yeah, that’s the way, Gutflap. Insult another country’s military — and the Belgians are capable of serious asskickery, let me tell you — while you’re “apologizing.”

Your attitude toward this is an insult. You really want to apologize? Email me: weathereye@post.com. I’ll put you in touch with my aunt and uncle, who lost a son over there, a Canadian soldier, and you can tell them how you were “misunderstood.”

Tell you what, Gutless: Pack an extra jockstrap, ship out to Kandahar and spend a week with some Canadians as they dodge rifle fire. Feel their dread, a dread that never leaves their hearts, as the threat of a random suicide bomb hangs in the air like poison gas. Feel their pain, their anguish, as they lie injured, their comrades dying around them. Give that a try, buddy, then go back on your stupid show and crack jokes about Canadian soldiers.

Weather Station 3 Reborn

Weather Station 3 has moved to a new home. My previous host, Clickcaster, has been nothing but trouble for the past few weeks. Sometimes it wouldn’t let me upload. Other times, it would upload my files, but I couldn’t post them. And then the whole site went down for “48 hours of maintenance” that lasted six days. I guess I should have figured it out when I noticed the “Featured Podcast of the Week” has been the same one since I signed on five months ago.

Anyway, I’ve gone with Libsyn, at the recommendation of Richard Smith of the Simply Syndicated podcast network. So far, so good. It isn’t as easy to use as some other sites out there — there’s more HTML to learn, which is cool, because that’s something I want to learn more of — but it’s fast, it’s clean and the price is right. I also like the scaleable archiving features … no more running out of storage space!

I’m not listed on iTunes yet; that’ll be another week or two, I think. For now, you can copy and paste the new RSS feed from the button on the page into the “subscribe” box (under Advanced in iTunes) and that’ll lock the new feed in.

This is a new start for my humble little podcast. I hope you check it out.

Weather Station 3 is here.

The old feed will still be available for a while down at the lower right side of this page. Eventually, those old shows will be archived somewhere else, except for the ones I recorded before I upgraded my equipment. Nobody needs to hear those.

A Joke For You

A little boy walks into the kitchen to find his mother. “Mommy,” he says, “when I grow up, I want to be a photographer.”

Mommy laughs. “Well, son, you can’t do both.”

Thanks. I’m here all week.

Solar Storm 2012

Will things go “poof” in 2012? Some scientists say so. And so do people who believe in the Mayan calendar crap. And also people who think Sarah Palin’s going to run for president.

Anyway, I’m going to send you on a little trip. First, read this article. It’s long, yes, but enlightening. Then come back here.

We first heard about this on CBC radio in January. It really caught my kids’ attention; we were in the van when the report aired, and they understood enough to ask me what would happen if we had no more electricity. We bounced ideas back and forth for a while, and generally came to a consensus: we would be okay.

This is because we are fairly outdoorsy people. I was not always the imaginary digital personality you know and love; there was a time when I could go days without ever going indoors. Rivers and lakes, mountains and forests, canoes, kayaks, mountain bikes and hiking boots … that was my life.

I don’t want to brag, but if I were suddenly stranded somewhere — a boreal forest, a parched desert, an island with a smoke monster on it — I would survive just fine. I have those skills, thanks to a good solid Canadian wilderness upbringing.

So if the world gets knocked back to the 18th century, this family would make do. I can build a cabin, catch fish, hunt and trap wild game. I can even rummage through post-apocalyptic abandoned grocery stores for that last can of beans. The kids mentioned farming, and that’s something else we could handle.

But then the kids started thinking about the things they love that run on electric power. No Nintendo DS. No TV. No iPods. No telephones. This got them worried.

And then my oldest son won the day: “We could do like in the olden days. Tell stories and make our own books.”

My daughter chimed in with: “We could do plays for other families, and Daddy can play his guitar.” (In a nightmarish post-apocalyptic wasteland future, my guitar playing will become the most feared thing on the planet.)

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately because of something I watched on TV recently; the relationship between people and technology was a major theme. It made me ask myself whether my increasingly cyberistic lifestyle was shifting me away from my love of the wild.

But it hasn’t. I still spend a lot of time outdoors. I live a few yards away from an access point to the Trans-Canada Trail, and there are more lakes and rivers within walking distance than there are fast-food outlets. And we take advantage of that.

Would I want to live wild forever? Maybe. There are days when that’s a tempting proposition. Of course, if it were forced on us, I would adapt. I would miss technology for the first little while, I guess. I’d miss podcasting, and emailing, and blogging, and looking at pictures of badly spelled Korean restaurant signs. But I think it would wear off. In the grand scheme of human history, things that plug in have been around for just a tiny, tiny fraction. And there’s something within all of us that’s willing to let those things go, pick up an axe, and start choosing trees to build the perfect little cabin.

In the meantime, I’ve got three more years to keep hanging out with my imaginary friends. And if the big solar storm happens? I know one guy who’ll be saying “I told you so.”