As I was leaving the grocery store, I walked past the little bank embedded in the front wall. To give it that homey, “We’re the faceless corporate behemoth that cares!” vibe, sometimes they put out a whiteboard with a handwritten message.
This was the whiteboard message today:
(Author’s note: For those unfamiliar with the terms, a “Christmas list” is a list of all the gifts a child (or adult) wants Santa to bring them. A “bucket list” a to-do list of all the experiences a person wants to achieve before they “kick the bucket” (i.e. die). A “Christmas Bucket List”, by extrapolation, is a list of all the things and experiences a person wants have before they die on December 25th.)
I’m still trying to wrap my head around some of these items. As I write this, today is October 29th. Christmas is 8 weeks away. If I found out I had two months to live, here are some of the painful conversations I would have with my friends and loved ones:
(Uncharacteristically Appropriate Disclaimer: This post contains graphic references to advertising graphics for actual goods and/or services that exist and may still be available. I don’t make them. I don’t use them, and I don’t recommend them. My role is to mock them.)
Parental Advisory: The following post contains images of cookies, penguins, and deceased popcorn magnates that may be too intense for young bargain hunters.
As Halloween approaches, the stores take a brief break from the 30th week of Ordinary Christmas Shopping Time to roll out all the black and orange decorations that don’t really say “Christmas”.
About a week ago, my brain’s Noticing Subsystem was alerted to a local commercial advertising “Spooky Savings” on some product or another. I don’t remember what it was, but I vaguely remember that it was some ordinary product, rather than something Halloween-related (costumes, candy, etc.) What I do remember was the phrase, “Spooky Savings”.
Let’s take a step back. The term “spooky”, according to some random Internet website, means “eerie, scary; like or befitting a spook”. Like any sane person, when I think of things that are spooky, my first thoughts are, of course, haunted amusement parks patrolled by dinosaurs (above), and Scooby-Doo (below).
So of course, when I searched for the term “spooky savings”, I expected to find things that were eerie, scary, and like or befitting a spook. (Disclaimer: No, I didn’t.) This is some of what I found:
At approximately 1230 hours on Tuesday, October 14th, sensors at the National Irresponsible Research Laboratory in Chicago reported an Expected Apocalypse Event involving a lethal biological agent. The incident has been traced to a lone researcher who accidentally shattered a vial of zombie virus while eating his lunch. Per standard procedure, the laboratory was instantly sealed from all outside contact, and the laboratory automated sensor system immediately began analyzing the environment for any pathogens.
Upon verification of exposure by automated and manual systems, the CDC triggered Phase One of its SHAD Protocol. As a Phase One risk factor, the exposed researcher was immediately Shot in the Head And Decapitated by the cleanroom’s Containment Drone. The contents of the room were subsequently incinerated at a temperature of 2000°F, followed by radiation exposure sufficient to make the surrounding area lethal to all forms of life for the next 500 years.
U.S. hospitals can safely manage a patient with the zombie plague by following our recommended infection-control procedures. It’s important that we do not let fear of the undead overtake our reasoned approach to any zombie apocalypse. There is zero danger to the U.S. public from these two zombies or the zombie plague in general. People who are zombies are not walking around on the street. They are very, very dead and pretty much confined to a hospital. Zombies do not pose a significant risk to the U.S. public. Keep in mind that zombie plague is not something that is easily transmitted. That’s why, generally, outbreaks dissipate. But the key is identifying, quarantining, and isolating those who contract it and making sure practices are in place that avoid transmission, such as not biting or getting bitten by a zombie.
In seasonal apocalyptic cheer news, leaders of Minnesota’s drunken zombie Santa community are calling for calm after one of their members paid an early visit to a St. Paul family.
The Santa, whose name is being withheld because he had been too dead to remember it and too drunk to pronounce it, was cited for premature breaking and entering by an undead intoxicated person, and hunting teenagers out of season.
I was at Starbucks this morning, and there was a sign up on the board for their new hand-made sodas (some assembly required). I’m not sure exactly what the appeal of making sodas to order could be — it’s not as if the carbon dioxide (now with TWICE the oxygen of regular carbon monoxide!) can go bad. And it’s not as if the baristi (baristovians? baristites?) have nothing better to do with their days than lovingly hand-craft something that sits on the grocery store shelf for weeks at a time. But I have surprisingly little hands-on experience running a coffee empire, so I’m sure there’s some logic involved. (Disclaimer: I’m not so sure there’s some logic involved.)
But with all the possible advertising hooks Starbucks could come up with (“Twice the Oxygen of Carbon Monoxide — 50% Less Lethal!” or “More Fun to Watch Being Made than Sausage!” would be my suggestions), the Starbucks near my house chose this one:
Made Right Before Your Eyes!
I find this very off-putting. My eyes were made in 1961, lovingly hand-crafted from only the finest rods and cones. (Disclaimer: some of them have gone bad.) I’m not sure I want to drink soda made right before that. Wine or cheese is one thing. (Disclaimer: Wine and cheese are two things, unless you put port wine in your cheese. Never put Camembert in your merlot.) But 53-year old soda has probably gone flat by now. Although I feel bad about the Starbucks Corporation storing soda pop for over half a century, without even asking me if I wanted it. (Disclaimer: I probably would have ordered 7-year old root beer when I was 6, if Starbucks had had the foresight to be founded in 1967.)
(Author’s Note: This is the kind of stuff my brain pulls on me all the time. I often wonder how the rest of humanity functions.)
In violent rhetorical question news, experts at the Massive Internal Trauma (MIT) Technology Review are asking, “Industrial robots should be able to hurt their human coworkers, right? Who’s with me on this?”
Setting limits on the level of pain a robot may “accidentally” inflict on a human is a crucial goal, according to the Automatons for Flaying, Ligatures, and Crushing Internal Organs (AFL-CIO), the nation’s largest machine union. Existing guidance from regulators assumes that robots operate only when humans aren’t nearby, drastically reducing their opportunity to inflict pain on humans.