Is Charlie Sheen really Winning?

Ok, I know the title is a bit cheesy, but I was initially just going to title it ‘Charlie Sheen’. So I figured this was a bit more interesting and appropriate.
Basically, the Dale just wants to give his two cents, as he hasn’t written a blogpost on his shiny new ipad yet….nor has he posted on this blog for almost a year.

So Charlie Sheen. What we need to point out first and foremost is that Sheen’s claim to fame is twofold. Before 2000, Sheen was known for his work in some seriously classic movies. Platoon, Wall Street, the Major League movies, Hot Shots, etc. By the year 2000, he’d likely made enough money to retire and sit on his ass playing golf like alot of other actors do at some point in their career, but no..not Charlie. Instead, he went into TV, and won a Golden Globe almost immediately for his role in Spin City. He then continued on to Two and a Half Men, which unlike most TV sitcoms, actually gained popularity halfway through its lifespan, decreasing in viewership from 2003 (its first year) to 2006 then increasing steadily from 2006-2009. Many people, including the Dale, didnt really hear much about it until the last 3 years or so, even though Sheen was consistently nominated for various awards for his work on the show right through 2003-2009. In 2010, he was the highest paid actor on television, making $1.8 million USD an episode. Let me repeat that…THE HIGHEST PAID ACTOR ON TELEVISION. For a fucking sitcom. As far as TV gigs go, a lead role in a sitcom is about as easy as it gets. No dramatic acting, no fake crying necessary….you just sit there and recite funny lines someone else has written for you.
So Sheen had it pretty nice. Almost 3 decades in the business, still an A List actor and being paid an extortionate amount of money for, arguably, the easiest job he’d ever had. But then, in late 2010, AFTER signing the contract which would make him the highest paid actor on television, the shitstorm ensues.
Trouble with the cops, drugs, etc…the standard meltdown we’ve come to expect from Hollywood. Nothing out of the ordinary. Until, Sheen decides to take a shot at his boss in February of this year. Never a good idea. But instead of rescinding his comments and getting down on his knees and begging for forgiveness, he decides that its funny. And that he doesnt need the work. So he starts with his whole “I’m a Warlock and everybody else is a Troll” bullshit, which at first, I’ll admit, was quite entertaining. I, like millions of others, was glued to his podcasts, but not because I agreed with what he was saying, moreso because its rare that a trainwreck like that gets past his PR people and into the public eye, and I wasnt about to miss out. It was unpredictable, exciting, and there was always the slight chance that something bad would happen (dont call me morbid, walk past a guy standing on the edge of a tall building without looking up, then you can judge).
But then, once you realized, even though he was doing copious amounts of drugs, that this guy was actually in control, it became boring very, very quickly.
I lost interest right about the time that he announced he was going on tour. The World of Warcraft dialogue, paired with his “out of control” demeanor began to feel very calculated. Like he’d realized he was on to something. There was a point where it seemed obvious that he’d realized he was out of work, and he was jumping on the “Charlie Sheen is a fucking nutcase” bandwagon just to make a buck. He used twitter to recruit thousands of followers and promote his ridiculous slogans, like “Winning”, “Tigerblood”, etc. Then came the merchandise, plastered with the aformentioned ridiculous slogans….the iphone app (can you say #shamelesssellout) and the stage shows, which was more of the same bullshit, but live. And now? He barely makes the news anymore. Its not spontaneous, its not dangerous, and its definitely not exciting. His 15 minutes of fame in pop culture is over.
So what now? The Dale now sees Charlie Sheen as no more than a stand up comedian with a shitty routine. And you should all know that stand up comedians, even the best of the best, dont make $1.8 million a show. Once his tour is over, all he’ll be left with is that haggard broad he refers to as his “goddess” (the one that was half decent, Bree Olsen, realized she was better off as a famous pornstar than a crackhead’s sex slave, and left his sorry ass), and a bank account full of money to blow up his nose. Or smoke in his pipe. Years of drug abuse have left him hobbling around like an 80year old man as he shamelessly, albeit desperately promotes himself, and a life of 0 credibility and no contacts in the industry is what stands ahead of him.
So is he “winning”? No. He’s a glorified douchebag who’s ruined his reputation. Enjoy your goddess…im sure she’s thoroughly enjoying your bank account you…Carlos Irwin.


The Hot Girl on a Train Dilemma.

Ok, so here’s an interesting little situation I’d like to share with you faithful readers. Feel free to comment if you have any suggestions or solutions to my dilemma.

So the other day, I get on the train to go to work. I’m sitting there, minding my own beeswax, pumping some justin bieber on the ipod. When we get to the first stop, I look up and this absolutely ridiculously insanely attractive girl walks on and sits across from me. Now when i say absolutely ridiculously insanely attractive, I mean it. An easy 10. And let it be noted that she was a brunette 10. Not a blonde 10. The reason I specify is because I believe it is much easier to be a blonde 10 than a brunette 10. The brunette 10 is a rare breed, and a girl has to be stupidly hot to be a brunette 10 in the Dale’s book. Anyway. So she gets on. Brown hair, blue eyes, mid 20’s. I immediately turn off justin bieber. Just in case. So as I’m checking this broad out (quite subtly I might add, I’m not a creeper), She looks back at me, and doesnt look away. Dead on eye contact. At this point I still had my sunglasses on, So she couldnt see that I was looking right back at her, but my instant reaction was to look away. When i looked back, she looked back. I then took off my glasses to further my investigation of her intentions. Alas, when I looked at her, she looked right back.

So perfect. The stage was set. I have this gorgeous girl who is giving me all the appropriate human mating signals that the Dale has been biologically programmed to identify, evaluate and act on, but whats the next move? I sat there, thinking to myself…what the fuck do I do now? Great, nice little ego boost to get eye-fucked by some hot girl, but what can I do about it? I would like to explore this option further than just a little EF’n. (this is the point where all you meathead idiots reading this are like “hey bro no fuckin problem bro just start talkin to her bro, what are you a pussy?”)

girl on right: buddy, you look like a fucking easter egg. guy on left: fml..

No. I’m just sensible. Look at it this way. I am on a full train. NO ONE is talking. Everyone is just sitting there DYING for something interesting to happen. Something that they can look at without feeling uncomfortable that is more interesting than the floor or shitty insurance ads above the windows. I for one, would like nothing more than for some douchebag moron to entertain me by hitting on some girl way out of his league on the train. I was not prepared to be judged by 20 odd strangers while I attempt to do something that is already pretty stressful. The added pressure would inevitably lead to disaster.

Not to mention the position it puts the girl in…

Imagine suffering the stares of 20 odd people watching her get hit on, and  having to reply in some manner or another. It just wouldnt work. I thought of dropping my number on a piece of paper when I got off the train, then realized that would be really gay, and if she WAS the type of girl that would call a random stranger off a train, I wouldn’t want her anyway, regardless of how hot she is. So thats out of the question.

So we cant converse, therefore rendering me unable to extract any sort of useful contact information out of her, and I cant give her my contact information without a) losing my dignity b)looking like a total douchebag and c)acting like a greasy italian….so what do I do? The Dale, for one of the first times in his illustrious career, cannot find a solution to this problem.

So in the end, I got off the train when it came to my stop, we exchanged glances and a quick smile as I got off, and that was it. The end. What started as an exciting prospect became a frustrating and defeating predicament which left me feeling like the loser kid who was left out of the cool kids 6th birthday party at the Mcdonalds ball pit. I felt as though I had missed out on something, and there wasnt a whole lot to do with it. Maybe if I had met her some other place…any other place, hot train girl might have been the Dale’s new squeeze, but unfortunately, it wasn’t to be.

I guess thats it. There wasn’t really a point to this post, just figured I’d share a little thoughtsky I had, but I would love any feedback you guys have. Holler at a frog. I’ll be on a lilypad by the log. Dale out.

Gladiator Sandals are NOT hot.

Ok, I got one for you. Fuckin gladiator sandals. What is with you girls thinking these atrocious slave boots are even remotely attractive? I understand they’re trendy, but does that really mean you can overlook your own opinion and wear them? Or are all of you so brainwashed that you think you look cool running around with little arabian straps of leather entangled around your feet? I swear, all of a sudden now that the sun is out, wherever I go it looks like the broads just came back from an arabian market peddling their wares.

Do you not understand that people wore these 1000’s of years ago out of NECESSITY? They didn’t have sexy high heels or nike dunks (yea, girls look good in nike dunks.). They had some dirty haggard knife, some animal skin and some nails, and thats all they could come up with.

So what the hell are you doing wearing such archaic arch support?  If you say “they’re fashionable”, I think its pretty safe to say their sold out. Everyone wears them. You arent some trendsetter. And whoever the ‘trendsetter’ is that decided to bring these back, well I hope that she drops something heavy on her foot. That’ll teach her.

So thats all. just a quick rant. keep in mind other sandals are fine, and even gladiator sandals with a heel are borderline ok,  but girls, please understand you just look like a retarded roman slave when you wear those stupid, ugly, flat soled shitkickers. they are NOT HOT. If you own a pair, I strongly recommend you throw them out or give them to a poor person (cause gladiator boots are better than nothing, right?…that was a joke, not me showing how charitable I am. I’m not.) If you plan to forego my advice, then just remember. You look like an idiot and not ONE guy who sees you thinks that you look good. Enjoy your peasant booties.

The meaning of the word “Sorry”.

Ok, this has been something that has pissed me off my entire life, and so I figured I’d share my feelings on the subject with all you little boys and girls today. What do you think? are you ready? yaaay!

So I’ll just start with an official definition of the word. According to ye ol’, Sorry is defined as ‘feeling regret, compunction, sympathy, pity, etc. ( to be sorry to leave one’s friends; to be sorry for a remark; to be sorry for someone in trouble.)”.

I’m sure you’ll all agree that this a reasonable definition, and thats probably because it IS a reasonable definition, but the point of the definition was to remind you what the actual word is supposed to mean.

Now lets move on to how its used in modern society. Sorry is a word people use when they have done something wrong, or something to upset someone else. Some people that say it really truly mean it, and i’m omitting those from my rant today (old grannies and nuns and etc). I’m going to focus on those people (and this probably includes alot of you), that use the word because you’ve been taught to use the word in a certain situations. The word coming out of your mouth is not representative of the feeling you have in your mind.

I'm sorry. it was me who ate all the chocolate pudding then shit it back in the bowl.

Wow, this is alot harder to explain in writing than I thought it would be.

How about I use my ex-girlfriend to put this into context. She will appreciate this rant more than anyone, because she knows firsthand what the Dale thinks of the word ‘Sorry”. Whenever ex-gf did something to upset the Dale, and the Dale expressed his discontent towards her, the immediate response would always be “sorry”. period. Thats all. simply the word “Sorry”.

This was never enough for the Dale. I felt as though, much like in any other context, she was just saying what she needed to say to continue the conversation. Just like the words ‘Thank you”. How often do you say “Thank you” and truly feel thankful? I’ll tell you, its not very often. You just say it because its the right thing to say.

You see, when we are kids, we are all trained to say sorry when we do something wrong. When we are kids and we DO follow direction and say sorry, we get rewarded. This is fine, and Pavlov’s theoretical framework is readily apparent in this context, but this conditioning process is also the heart of the problem. Why? Because when we are children and we say the word “Sorry”, it is a sufficient level of regret. You cant expect much more from a 5 yr old. But as you grow older, the word “Sorry” by itself does not justify an apology.

Many people  just do not understand this, and it drives me insane. When you are an adult, and you have done something wrong, you have the intellectual ability to explain your regret, and make the person understand what part of your actions you specifically regret and what impact it has had. So if I forget to call a friend and invite him out on a good night, then the next day he calls me upset about not being invited, there are two ways to deal with it:

1. “Sorry man, we’re going out tomorrow night if you’re down?”

2. “Shit, I feel awful….I got carried away getting ready, I had a dead baby roasting in the oven that I had to keep checking on and my grandma called me asking me for step-by-step  instructions on how to hotwire a tractor. I guess I was just flustered before I left and I completely forgot to call. I really feel bad  because it would have been awesome if you were there last night…sorry man. I know you’re pissed but don’t worry, we’ll make up for it in style tomorrow night if you’re down?”.

So those are the two approaches to an apology. The first does not bother to explain WHY he is sorry or apologetic, just simply states the word. Furthermore, he makes it EVEN WORSE by writing off the mistake as if going out tomorrow night will fix it. This is perhaps the worst way to apologize.

The second explains the circumstances that led up to the mistake, explains the state of mind that caused the mistake, and the state of mind that the mistake caused once realized. He then presents an offering of peace, saying that he is willing to make up for his mistake the next time they go out. THAT…ladies and gentlemen…is a heartfelt apology.

And this is what the Dale likes and tries to do himself when he is in the wrong. I try to ensure that the person I am apologizing to knows I regret my actions by giving a little bit of insight into the mistake. It doesn’t take long, and its so much more valuable than a simple “sorry”.

In my world, saying the word sorry alone without any accompanying explanation is just a person’s way of getting out of a corner when they have nothing else to say. If you cant back up your apology with some insight, then it means that you arent really apologetic at all. You are just doing what you have done your whole life to get you out of trouble.  I should note that this is the reason I give alot of people the benefit of the doubt. Those simple sorry sayers arent 100% at fault for not knowing how to apologize, as “sorry” alone has been sufficient throughout the majority of their lives. But the transition from a juvenile apology to an adult apology is an important one, and if you havent already, you need to get on that.

In greek, we have a saying: “Na sheso to sorry”. This basically translates into “I shit on your sorry”. The Dale basically shits on every sorry that doesn’t have an explanation. Boys and girls, please understand that the word Sorry alone just isnt enough to make someone believe that you’re sorry anymore. When you apologize to someone make sure you convince them that you’re sorry. It doesnt take long, it makes a huge difference, and you dont sound like an ignorant fuck.

So basically, I will conclude by saying  keep this in mind, and keep fucking that chicken!

Why the world needs Anime.

Ill start by quickly saying that if you’ve come across this page in hopes of reading about why anime is the most amazing thing on earth, you can fuck off right now. This is not written for you people. This is written for everyone else, those who are absolutely mindfucked as to how anime can be as popular as it is. The Dale, as always, has an opinion on the matter. So here we go.

I live next to a convention center. Often on weekends there are expositions, and the neighbourhood is filled with visitors and exhibitors walking around, shopping, taking in the sights etc etc etc. This is all fine and dandy, but its a very special time for me when the Anime convention comes to town. Now just imagine,  hundreds (literally hundreds) of pasty, gross white kids dressed up in handmade costumes (that you just know they’ve spent most of the year creating for this very day), walking around proud as fucking peacocks, strutting their stuff. I can sit at the window and watch this all day.

Anyway, as I was observing the anime freaks in their natural habitat (dressed up like assholes at an asshole convention), I realized there was a sense of confidence in these individuals that was not readily apparent in other circumstances. When you see an anime freak walking down the street or sitting on a train, they are usually looking down at the ground, daydreaming about Sailor Moon sitting on their face. But anime freaks at an anime convention seem to be a whole other animal. When they congregate in their masses, dressed up in their (exhaustively detailed) battle gear, these anime freaks act like they own the joint. They walk around laughing, quoting their favourite anime lines, complimenting each others costumes and comparing the size of their paper mache/cardboard weapons. They even swerve on anime freak girls!!! I heard some painfully pathetic (yet likely effective)  swerving going on when I was walking past groups of these fuckers.

Then it hit me. This little anime convention ecosystem is essential to OUR survival. The conventions serve as not only meeting places for like minded inviduals, but meeting places where these individuals can be whoever they want to be.  For example, Johnny is a 23 yr old introvert. Never talked to a girl in his life. Masturbates bi-hourly on a daily basis. Tortures small animals the rest of the time. Cant make friends, cant be normal, nothing. Then Johnny comes across an anime forum online. He joins the forum, acts on recommendation from other members and  and starts watching anime. Then Johhny goes to the anime convention dressed as some ripped, ninja-looking motherfucker from one of his favourite anime shows. Johnny is no longer Johnny. Johnny is ripped, ninja-looking motherfucker dude. His confidence is through the roof, he’s swerving on anime broads left right and center and boom! he ends up having some sort of weird, 7 second, fully clothed sexual experience. Johnny is no longer a virgin. Johnny might even have found a girlfriend. (Keep in mind this girlfriend would be an anime freak as well, likely in the exact same position as Johnny before the convention). Then these two freaks are well on their way to spawning a new generation of baby freaks.

Basically what im trying to say is that there seems to be alot more behind the popularity of anime than you’d initially think. People dont love it because its just THAT good (unlike Justin Bieber’s music). They love it because it gives them a sense of belonging. Anime is like a standardized interest for losers. If you’re a loser, can’t make friends if your life depended on it….get into anime. You will likely end up building confidence, making friends, getting laid and singing the Glee version of Midnight Train with another 20 or 30 freaks outside your hotel at night after an anime convention.

By now you might be saying ‘but wait, don’t we hate anime freaks? why would we benefit from them congregating and reproducing? why are these loser conventions essential to OUR survival?’. The answer, my friends, is simple. If these people did NOT have anime, and they did NOT have the conventions and costumes to boost their confidence and enhance their social lives, the stress from living amongst us normal people would likely turn many of them into sociopaths who would shoot up our schools and our workplaces and rape our women.

So thank you Japan, for sending us your weird, fucked up version of cartoons. The Dale is convinced that anime’s existence saves hundreds if not thousands of lives everyday. Think twice before you shoot down anime next time people, because some things, no matter how awful they are, are necessary for universal balance and harmony. Like abortion.

Hey Dale…where the f$%# have you been?

Hey dudes and dudettes. I apologize for the lack of postings over the past couple of months. School and work seem to have overrun my life. I have very little time to call spare time. But in two weeks, I will be free and clear from school (for a while), and I promise to start posting on the regular again. If anyone has any tips or potential blog post ideas, either send me a msg on facebook (if you know who the dale is), or email me here.

See you in a couple of weeks time, and until then, keep fucking that chicken!

Tiger Would pt 2.

ok so I just watched Tiger Woods’ press conference. If you missed it, its basically him saying exactly what you’d expect him to, apologizing to everyone (and trying to be as sincere as possible by creepily staring into the camera), asking the press to respect his privacy, and letting us know he’s going back into therapy. It then ends with him hugging each of the people in the front row (His mom and his wife’s mom being two of those people). So on the surface, it looked like Tiger was following the respectful, mature path of dealing with his “problem”.

But Dale sees right through that bullshit. What I saw was a guy who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar (or several cookie jars for that matter), sheepishly taking the easy way out. By admitting that railing every waitress/club promoter/aspiring model in sight  was a result of a sex addiction, all seems to be well and good.

Although I get that the first step to successful recovery is admitting that you have a problem, I really don’t think this is what Tiger was doing. I honestly do not think he sincerely thinks what he did was wrong. And that’s because (biologically), it isn’t.

We men are genetically programmed to be polygamists, yet society’s norms have essentially cockblocked us from fulfilling what we were meant to do. Marriage and monogamy is a sociological phenomenon, and this is really the only reason why we consider Tiger’s behaviour as being offensive. If he did this in an islamic state, it would be a completely different scenario. Women, on the other hand, are genetically predisposed to monogamy, as they are programmed to find a suitable mate that can take care of them and their young, and stick with that mate. (don’t bitch at me for being sexist, read the goddamn literature for yourself).

So Tiger has to go through two months of rehab in order to save his marriage, after slaying everything with a hole and a heartbeat for the last half decade. Big deal. He’s a perfectly intelligent person who has realized that sex addiction is his golden ticket out of the dog house. But how can all you people be dumb enough to believe that? If they found a computer filled with terabytes of porn pictures, or he spent 7-8 hours a day in front of a computer with his twig n berries out looking at porn, then ok…sex addiction. But being the highest paid athlete in the world and cashing in on the benefits? The Dale thinks that is the farthest thing from sex addiction. I think that’s the result of having a boring wife at home, liking hot women, and having these hot women falling all over you because of your status. Sounds pretty fucking normal to me. To be in that position and have the willpower to say no is not admirable, its stupid. You only live once.

So the Dale says: Good on Tiger for finding a solution to the problem, and shame on all the rest of you for believing that tagging the word “addiction” onto the back of anything makes it forgivable.

If that’s the case, then Dale has a Hating fat girls addiction. Don’t be mad……I’m addicted.

Addicted to Facebook? Don’t try ChatRoulette…

Ok EMERGENCY POST TIME, I wasnt planning on posting anything tonight but my fellow Dalehead, Mr. RM Franks, has just alerted me of the existence of something that might very well take over facebook once it gets rolling, and I figured we better tell you about it before it blows up (Dale likes to be ahead of the game).

Chatroulette is a new website that is incredibly simple, yet has the potential to be INSANELY addictive. Basically, the website instantly throws you into a webcam chat with a completely random stranger. Like, I mean instantly. You literally go to the website,, and hit play. boom. Some complete stranger looking at you while you look at him/her (usually him).  But the best part is your ability to hit the “Next” button and be instantly transported into another webcam chat with a different stranger.

I think I’ll leave it in RM Franks’ words, quoted directly from the bbm message I received.

“Man. R u by a comp??? Ur worlds about to change”.

The concept is really clever and intriguing, leaving you in suspense of who you may see next, but the actual experience is somewhat awkward and uncomfortable. I mean, flipping through people’s webcams and skipping guys beating off what you don’t want to see is perfectly fine, but if you come across an interesting looking person or someone you might actually want to start a conversation with, there is an awkward moment where neither of you know what to say, and then you end up escaping the awkward moment by hitting “Next”, forever condemning your chances of talking to that person.

Also, as you can imagine with something that involves webcams, there are the morons who sit there ass naked on their computer chairs with their little dinks in their hands hopelessly pressing F9 (Shortcut for “Next”), anticipating the dream meeting between them (and their danks) and some drop dead gorgeous girl ready to strip off at the sight of said dank. But these hopeless individuals can be shooed away easily with the F9 key. That being said, if you’re incredibly uncomfortable with your sexuality offended by same sex genitalia, then don’t go on here. Because you will see it. Alot.

You will see lots of guys in general to be honest. So for all you nimrods thinking you’re going to jump on chatroulette and become a webcam casanova, forget it. You will likely get rejected (aka disconnected from) by most girls you see.

Which brings me on to my next point. It’s a bit of a shot to the ego when a member of the opposite sex “Next’s” you, as it implies you aren’t exactly good enough to catch his or her attention. Likewise, I felt kind of bad Nexting ugly girls, but seriously….what are ugly girls good for? Not a whole hell of alot if the Dale says so hisself. But anyway, if you arent comfortable with your sexuality have low self esteem, then don’t go on this site.

So now you’ve been told. You’ve been told and you have been warned. But if you have read this far and are still interested (which I know every single one of you is), then hit up the site and check it out. At the time I was on, there were 24,000 people online (might seem like alot, but there are hundreds of thousands of people on Modern Warfare 2 at any given time of any given day). I believe this number is likely to skyrocket as it gains popularity.

But as always (shoutout to RM Franks), the Dale told you first! Now what are you still doing here? Go talk to a stranger!

The Dale’s thoughts on Psychology’s dilemma…

So the Dale just got back from a class about the legislation and ethical guidelines of clinical trials in psychology. Stupidly boring lecture, but there is one thing that struck me about the profession I have chosen to pursue. We are our own worst enemy.
While my poor lecturer sifted through more than half a century of administrative red tape and attempted to cram it into a two and a half hour lecture, it must have dawned on him how goddamn boring and useless this lecture was likely to be to us students. But he was wrong. I came to the very important realization, as a result of his academic rambling, that the legislation and ethical guidelines associated with carrying out psychological experiments on people is the very reason we don’t know more about how our minds work.

I see a guy with a gasmask who is pregnant with a dead baby and has a form of both male and female genitalia with little nubbins for arms. You?

You have millions of individuals across the world that have dedicated their professional lives to researching the human mind in an attempt to find solutions to illnesses such as Alzheimers. Then you have a whole different body of people who have dedicated their professional lives to bottlenecking this procedure by way of rules and regulations. And here’s the kicker…both bodies maintain the same goal. To improve the wellbeing of our society.

So how can these two clash heads on a professional basis yet be in moral harmony? The Dale believes the rift has it’s roots in the uncertainty of what exactly is “best for the people”. Do we give psychologists a golden ticket to do whatever is experimentally necessary to learn more, resulting in potential long term gain? Or do we address human rights over and above anything else, “saving” people from being deceived in a deception trial or placebo’d in a placebo trial?

The latter example is what made me write this post in the first place. A placebo trial, for those that don’t already know, is when one group (the experimental group) takes a drug, while the other group (the control group) takes a sugar pill or some other sort of “drugless” alternative, then the effects are recorded for both groups and compared. Of course, if a drug has a real effect, it will be seen in the experimental group but not the control. This type of study is monumental in understanding the positive and negative aspects of new drugs. But no. Apparently, giving someone a goddamn sugar pill and telling them it is a drug is apparently considered inhumane. The Declaration of Helsinki written up in 1999, is basically a document stating how evil placebo trials are, and how deceptive it is to tell someone you are giving them something and give them something else. Even if that something else is DESIGNED TO DO NOTHING. So because of ridiculous “Declarations” like this one, rules are put into place which essentially ruin the whole concept behind an experiment. Now, if you want to run a placebo trial, as a psychologist, you must tell each participant, no matter which group,  that there is a chance of them getting a sugar pill instead of the drug. This effectively ruins the whole concept of a placebo trial and leads to data that is likely damaged as a result of participants knowing essential information that they would not be privy to in a pure, unadulterated trial.

So. How the hell do you get around this dilemma? You obviously can’t give psychologists free reign to do what they please, as we would end up with generations of horribly disfigured frankenstein children with mental capacities equal to that of a dry roasted peanut who feel the urge to murder rape and pillage on a regular basis. But if we continue to let governing bodies come up with stupid shit like the Declaration of Helsinki, psychologists cannot do their job. Plain and simple.

The dale suggests that an international psychologocial association might be a step in the right direction, as they could make decisions based on the good of the international field, rather than having little clans of psychologists from different countries trying to one up each other. Also, leniency NEEDS to be applied to trials like a placebo trial. Consequences must be considered in depth in order to deem something unacceptable. I could write about this for hours, and I’m really trying my best to give you a summary of what I want to say, but if you read the Dale on a reg. bas. then you know that I ramble more than a preacher with Tourrette’s. Anyway. things that can’t kill or seriously injure someone (like a placebo) should not need to be disclosed. Proposals should be easier to pass and leniency should be granted in favour of the psychologist rather than the participant. Basically the potential benefit of the experiment should be compared to the actual harm done to the participant, and this is how ethical and legislative decisions should be made. If giving a bunch of people a sugar pill in order to prove that a new cancer drug is effective in instantaneously curing cancer, then no one, including those nosy Finnish fucks should intervene.

Offseason Begins: Brett Favre Watch

By RM Franks

It’s that miserable time of year again.

The weather is consistently awful; students are right in the vortex of the black hole that is their academic life; the first round of American Idol is wrapping up (effectively putting an end to monumental “pants on the ground” type performances; valentine’s day is just around the corner to remind us yet again how devastating chocolate can be to our waistlines; and The Blindside starring Sandra Bullock and Tim McGraw received a Best Picture nomination for this year’s Oscars. Wow.

I was also snubbed for Miss Congeniality 2: Armed and Fabulous

Not miserable yet? The NFL season is over. The Vikings did not win the Superbowl or the NFC. In fact they lost it in heartbreaking fashion. Wow? More like, duh.

But just as Chumbawumba says, “I get knocked down, but I get up again”, and despite the fact Viking Nation is still in mourning, the show must go on. Off-season activities and acquisitions can be just as crucial to a team’s success as on-field performance, and the Vikings are entering an enormous off-season, one in which several key players must decide if they want to come back to Minnesota. One player’s decision however is sure to attract more attention than any other’s (just as it has in the past). His name? Oh, uh, that number 4, the salt and pepper haired, gun-slingin, pill-poppin, Budweiser-sippin, just-havin-fun-out-there guy. What’s his name again?

It’s Favre. Brett Favre. And he’ll have his brewski shaken, not stirred.

Ah Kin Steel Play

The past two NFL off-seasons have been riddled with sleazy Brett Favre affairs fit for a chapter in the Tiger Woods biography. Let us reminisce.

After the 2007 NFC championship defeat to the Giants, Brett Favre left his longtime lover Mrs. Packer with whom he shared one of the most illustrious NFL careers (including two romantic Superbowl dates, one of which ended with a ring). The breakup killed Brett. He cried his eyes out but ultimately decided it was the best thing to do for both of them and he gave Ms. Packer the old, “You’ve been great, it’s not you it’s me” speech. Although devastated herself, Ms. Packer decided to move on.

A few uneventful months passed including training-camp, the time every NFL player admittedly dreads the most about their job, and surprise, Brett decided he wanted to come back. Without the obstacle of camp in the way, it was like Mrs. Packer had shed a few pounds, and suddenly seemed more appealing. “Ah kin steel play, Ah wona play, and bottom lan, Ah git ta do whatever Ah wont” Brett thought. But Ms. Packer had already given her heart to another man, the younger, quicker Aaron Rogers. She didn’t want anything to do with Brett and all of his baggage, and after all, Aaron Rogers was notorious for turning ‘tight ends’ into ‘wide receivers’.

So Brett decided to do what any reasonable man having a mid-life crisis over his “usefulness” would do: get drunk and go to New York! It was in the Big Apple that Brett found romance for the second time in the form of the Jets. Lady Liberty had been so abused in her long-term relationship with Chad Pennington that she was evidently fed up. It was time to try sleeping around for a season, experiment with older men, knowing that the best result would be a fun year but definitely nothing serious or long-term. Brett swept her off her feet with his mid-western charm and the promise that he was in it for the right reasons. The rest was history (and still is I suppose). However after a turbulent season, New Yorkers inevitably learned that Brett was a two-timing pig who only came to their troubled franchise because of how she looked during beach season, not her real personality. Thus, when Lady Liberty showed her true colors, Favre once again jetted into retirement (pun intended). Dedicated to family life, hunting, and coaching high-school football, Brett vowed he was done messing around for good.

Suddenly, something I call “the Jessica Biel effect” came into play. The Jessica Biel effect is essentially when a team so smoking hot comes around you just cannot say no. They’re simply that attractive, and that’s what the Minnesota Vikings were to Brett Favre. They were Jessica Biel.

Minnesota could offer Favre an offensive line that could protect him with confidence, one of the top two running-backs in the league to hand the ball off to, and overall a team that  could realistically win a Superbowl (not to mention 12 million dollars a year and the comfort of playing in a dome). Not surprisingly, Favre accepted. He and Jessica Biel immediately hit it off and he was putting it deep into her end-zone multiple times a week. The relationship was everything they thought it could be and more. Brett enjoyed a career season and Viking Nation enjoyed Brett. Despite the fact the season ended in gut-wrenching disappointment, anyone who watched this past NFC championship game knows that Favre played a good game and they lost that night as a team. Most of the blame should probably be placed on the rest of the squad’s fumbling problems.

Regardless, now comes the issue, the essence of this report. What to do now? What will Brett Favre decide to do after the best statistical season of his career? Let’s continue with the Jessica Biel metaphor to more closely examine. Sure, they had a fight. They let the New Orleans Saints come between them and they lost their tempers. But unlike in past relationships, it simply does not make sense for them to breakup for good. They need each other too much. After Favre left the Packers, they had a stud to turn the franchise over to. After his season with the Jets, it as well made sense for the team to release Favre as they had a young team, a new coach coming in, and an opportunity to draft a new quarterback and try to rebuild their franchise the right way, from inside out.

But the Vikings? If Favre leaves, they’ll be in the exact same situation they were a year ago: a team ripe with talent at every skill-position and no quarterback to fulfill their potential. Sure, they could draft one, but its not like they have a high draft pick. They could let Tarvaris Jackson takeover like Green Bay did with Rogers, but the difference there is that Tarvaris has already had an opportunity to start, and in case you don’t remember, he did not capitalize on it. Favre completely re-ignited the Viking franchise and had fans more excited than they were in the Randy Moss / Cris Carter days. Both the team and city of Minneapolis unarguably benefit from Brett Favre’s presence.

But the fact remains: Brett Favre is forty years old. Not 37, not 39, forty. The oldest quarterback to ever start a game in the NFL was Vinnie Testaverde at age 41, and that was an emergency call-up for one game. Favre would have to endure a whole season of sacks and hits as a guy in his forties.  Judging by that NFC championship game however, he could do it. (While I’ve never been a huge Favre advocate, his toughness in that game was astounding. Any other NFL quarterback likely would have been done by halftime.)

Brett, you have had three consecutive seasons end in heartbreak. If you quit now, your career will effectively end in heartbreak. This is the year it would actually make sense to come back. You’ve got a team who is easily a contender, 13 million dollars waiting for you, a whole lot of hungry Viking fans, and everyone knows you can still play at a high level.

Never in my life did I think I would utter these words (but then again, never in my life did I ever think Favre would be a Viking): Brett Favre, please come back.