Today is not the ten year anniversary of the day that “All your base are belong to us”, a.k.a. “All Your Base” or “AYBABTU” or simply “AYB”, was released upon world. But it is the ten year anniversary of the day that the Flash video was first given to the masses. Refresher course after the fold. Also, don’t forget to check out a previous Dueling Analogs that used this meme as a premise.

[Via J-List side blog]

I originally wanted to find the actual site this comic was from and link to it back when I did my Bridget comic back in August. Unfortunately, I was never able to find it’s origination point and besides the only information on the comic itself is “© Spite 2007″. Google “spite comic” you get nothing close to finding it source. Update: Thanks to Adny, Adam and Kassidy I have learned that the artist of the webcomic goes by the name Kintall on devaintArt and this is a link to their portfolio. So when I decided to start cleaning the stuff off of my desktop today I felt that now would be as good of a time as ever to finally post this. If anyone one knows the people who actually created it and/or the website it originated from please mention it in the comment section below so I can give them the credit they deserve. Thanks everyone!

You know how Google sometimes “predicts” what you might be searching for by giving you a little drop down menu of suggested search queries? These suggestions, of course, are based on what other users frequently search. So I tried teasing out some gender differences. Look at the pictures below.

This shows Google’s remarkable power as a source of data on a range of human behaviors, emotions, and opinions. It gives us insights into what people might care the most about concerning a given topic. When people search a particular political leader, what are their main concerns? What are people secretly guilty about? For better or for worse, Google’s obsession with collecting and refining data has given us a window into each other’s fascinating and telling curiosities.

Dear Irrational, I recently met a great guy – let’s call him George – and now I can’t stop thinking about him. Though we’ve only been on a couple dinner dates, he’s officially won me over. Now here’s my problem: Smitten as I am, I’m ready to hop into bed with George this very minute, but I’m not sure that’s the best idea. After all, there must be some reason that all those books and magazines (not to mention my mother) champion the make-him-wait rule. But does it really work? I’ve never followed it in the past, but then, I can’t say I have the best dating track record either. What do you think? Should I play hard to get, or no? Help! Sincerely, Unsure —— Dear Unsure, Your mother is right: making the guy sweat a little (no, not like that) is in your best interest if you want to maximize the chances f a long term relationship. The reason lies in cognitive dissonance, which refers to what we do when our beliefs and actions misalign: Can’t change the cold, hard facts? Then change your beliefs! The classic experiment here comes from psychologists Leon Festinger and James Carlsmith, who had participants perform a boring task and then paid them either $20 or $1 to convince someone else that the task had been great fun. Everyone then rated the task, with the result that the $1 participants rated the task more positively than did the $20 crew. While the $20 group could explain away the dissonance between their action (“I told someone the task was riveting”) and their belief (“It actually bored me to tears”) via money (“I was paid to promote the task”), the $1 individuals could not because they could not justify misleading others for such a small amount of money– so they changed their initial belief (“I must really like the task, to have promoted it”) and they ended up rating the task more positively. To give you an example that is closer to our social life, look at fraternities: loyalty to frats increases with the amount of hazing, since pledges tell themselves, “I did a lot of embarrassing stuff for my frat – it must really matter to me.” So, going back to your dilemma, Unsure, cognitive dissonance suggests that if you really want a guy, you have to create a dissonance for him, so that he will say, “Wow, if I put in all this effort for the woman – I must love her.” This means that instead of putting out early, you have George pursue you. Instead of splitting the check, you let him pick up the entire tab. Instead of calling him up and suggesting dates, you leave the calling and planning up to him. In other words, make him work, and he will rationalize it by deciding he loves you. Good luck. Irrationally yours, Dan p.s please don’t tell George about my advice, and who gave it to you

The other night, during our usual bout of being completely unable to think of anything to do, Emmy suggested, “Let’s draw Bill Cosby.” So we each immediately went to work, unaware of what the other was doing. When we were finished, we exchanged Cosbies at the same time. Here is what my Cosby looked like:

And here is Emmy’s Cosby:

Of course we were both shocked. Two Cosbies, drawn independently of each other, had turned out to be almost identical! Had we tapped into some collective Cosby consciousness?
We decided to run an experiment. We formed our hypothesis: if we got several people to draw pictures of Bill Cosby, without seeing what each other drew, the majority of them would involve Cosby in a wacky sweater with Jell-o pudding. With that we (by which I mean you) got to work.

Now of course, science is unpredictable. As it turns out, our hypothesis was incorrect. Out of a total of 190 Cosbies, only 8 had both a sweater and Jell-o pudding. Baffling, right? That’s only 4.2%! What a shock! Here is the scientific data we collected: Cosbies wearing sweaters: 52 (out of 190) Cosbies with a Jell-O Product: 21 Cosbies spouting gibberish: 10 Cosbies with sweaters and Jell-o: 8 Cosbies with sweaters spouting gibberish: 4 Cosbies with sweaters and Jell-o and gibberish: 0, can you believe it? Cosbies that confused us: 19 Cosbies facing left with hands clasped which were clearly based on the first Google Image Search result for “Cosby”: 15 Here is a scientific-looking pie chart to show we mean business:

So that’s that! All of the entires have been unscreened and are now available for viewing. Please check them out, because some of them are really excellently done. Thank you to everyone who participated.

I am proud to announce the first 3 Freezerburns.com T-shirt designs. I hope you like them. You can purchase your shirts here.

ASK NATALIE

Q: Where I come from, everyone thinks I'm a whore. And they're pretty much right. My reputation has gone to shit. I do regret what I've done in the past. I was young and stupid. What do you do to fix a reputation like this? I'm in a happy relationship now and I'm planning on never whoring around again. Is my reputation totally down the drain or is there something I could do so people will know I've made a conscious effort to change myself?

A: First off, you're not a whore. You weren't making scratch. Perhaps you were behaving in a slutty manner, but calling yourself a whore is a bit much.

Moving on... It's not anyone else's business what you do in your spare time. If you are not fucking someone, it is not their business who you actually are fucking. As long as you are wrapping it up, and not fucking around on someone you're in a relationship with (or who is a relationship with someone else), who cares. Nobody is talking shit about the dudes you were sleeping with being whores, are they? Acting like people being nosy and judgemental bothers you only makes them keep doing it. Hold your head high and don't let what people say about you behind your back bother you, and they will stop once their shaming doesn't hit the mark.

If people give you shit, a simple "my sex life is none of your motherfucking business" works really well. Everyone knows it's not their business. If they get nosy and you act like you care, it makes them think you are seeking their approval. If you act in an ethical manner, and don't spread disease or destroy relationships, your reputation is squeaky clean.

You'd be surprised how little you get to tear shit up when you have an infant in the house. I have been having a hard time coming up with shit to blog about because I just haven't been getting out much, and my days have been filled with the neverending cycle of diaper-bottle-nap-play-diaper-bottle-nap-play-diaper-bottle-nap-play, day in and day out. I know at some point it will get easier, cause Nona will be old enough to do stuff, and I will be able to leave the house without loading myself up like a packhorse, but in the meantime, I am straight chilling at home. I get out to visit people, and do errands and stuff, but nothing involved cause that diaperbag shit is a bit much. I just feed the kid, change her pants, and make it a quick trip so I can get home before the next bottle/diaper. I am not complaining, I knew what I was getting into, it just doesn't feed into the whole blogging thing to well, cause it is super-difficult to make things sound fascinating.

Just about the only thing that is bugging me about this whole mom business is that I look like total shit all the time. First off, I gained about a million pounds, and being home all the time is not doing much for burning calories. Second, gaining a ton of weight, then having someone slice your abdominal muscles every which way makes things a bit more unattractive than they would be if it was just a situation where I ate too many M&Ms. I have no abdominal strength at all, and when I am standing around, I feel like I am just stacking all my weight on my spine and back, instead of getting any help holding myself up from my front. It will be fine once I find a way to fit working out into my diaper-bottle-nap-play-diaper-bottle-nap-play, and I will save my money to get a tummy tuck if that is what it comes to in a few years, but in the meantime, shit is pretty fat and droopy around these parts. I don't mean to take the shine off it, but you know I bring it to you guys all raw. SHIT IS ALL DROOPY, AND IT LOOKS LIKE A NUTSACK, OK? I said it. Now you know to make sure you are using your birth control until you never want to look good ever again. I heard an old wives' tale when I was still pregnant, that if you have a girl, she will steal your beauty, and I will be damned if those old wives weren't right.

That being said, Nona is pretty awesome! She is terminally chilled out, much like her mom. She will have days when she does not cry once, and she is pretty reliably sleeping until 8 every morning, without getting up overnight. She howls when she thinks something is funny, like aaAAH-OOOOOOOOOOOO! Like a young Pauly Shore. She is pretty shy, though. When I show her herself in the mirror, she burrows her face in my shoulder like she doesn't want that other baby to see her. She's a pretty likable kid.

Today, she got a surprise package in the mail from Chris, with shirts and pens and buttons. There is nothing Nona likes more than having cool fashions to wear, so she was pretty jazzed. Then she puked.

ASK NATALIE

Q: Where I come from, everyone thinks I'm a whore. And they're pretty much right. My reputation has gone to shit. I do regret what I've done in the past. I was young and stupid. What do you do to fix a reputation like this? I'm in a happy relationship now and I'm planning on never whoring around again. Is my reputation totally down the drain or is there something I could do so people will know I've made a conscious effort to change myself?

A: First off, you're not a whore. You weren't making scratch. Perhaps you were behaving in a slutty manner, but calling yourself a whore is a bit much.

Moving on... It's not anyone else's business what you do in your spare time. If you are not fucking someone, it is not their business who you actually are fucking. As long as you are wrapping it up, and not fucking around on someone you're in a relationship with (or who is a relationship with someone else), who cares. Nobody is talking shit about the dudes you were sleeping with being whores, are they? Acting like people being nosy and judgemental bothers you only makes them keep doing it. Hold your head high and don't let what people say about you behind your back bother you, and they will stop once their shaming doesn't hit the mark.

If people give you shit, a simple "my sex life is none of your motherfucking business" works really well. Everyone knows it's not their business. If they get nosy and you act like you care, it makes them think you are seeking their approval. If you act in an ethical manner, and don't spread disease or destroy relationships, your reputation is squeaky clean.

You'd be surprised how little you get to tear shit up when you have an infant in the house. I have been having a hard time coming up with shit to blog about because I just haven't been getting out much, and my days have been filled with the neverending cycle of diaper-bottle-nap-play-diaper-bottle-nap-play-diaper-bottle-nap-play, day in and day out. I know at some point it will get easier, cause Nona will be old enough to do stuff, and I will be able to leave the house without loading myself up like a packhorse, but in the meantime, I am straight chilling at home. I get out to visit people, and do errands and stuff, but nothing involved cause that diaperbag shit is a bit much. I just feed the kid, change her pants, and make it a quick trip so I can get home before the next bottle/diaper. I am not complaining, I knew what I was getting into, it just doesn't feed into the whole blogging thing to well, cause it is super-difficult to make things sound fascinating.

Just about the only thing that is bugging me about this whole mom business is that I look like total shit all the time. First off, I gained about a million pounds, and being home all the time is not doing much for burning calories. Second, gaining a ton of weight, then having someone slice your abdominal muscles every which way makes things a bit more unattractive than they would be if it was just a situation where I ate too many M&Ms. I have no abdominal strength at all, and when I am standing around, I feel like I am just stacking all my weight on my spine and back, instead of getting any help holding myself up from my front. It will be fine once I find a way to fit working out into my diaper-bottle-nap-play-diaper-bottle-nap-play, and I will save my money to get a tummy tuck if that is what it comes to in a few years, but in the meantime, shit is pretty fat and droopy around these parts. I don't mean to take the shine off it, but you know I bring it to you guys all raw. SHIT IS ALL DROOPY, AND IT LOOKS LIKE A NUTSACK, OK? I said it. Now you know to make sure you are using your birth control until you never want to look good ever again. I heard an old wives' tale when I was still pregnant, that if you have a girl, she will steal your beauty, and I will be damned if those old wives weren't right.

That being said, Nona is pretty awesome! She is terminally chilled out, much like her mom. She will have days when she does not cry once, and she is pretty reliably sleeping until 8 every morning, without getting up overnight. She howls when she thinks something is funny, like aaAAH-OOOOOOOOOOOO! Like a young Pauly Shore. She is pretty shy, though. When I show her herself in the mirror, she burrows her face in my shoulder like she doesn't want that other baby to see her. She's a pretty likable kid.

Today, she got a surprise package in the mail from Chris, with shirts and pens and buttons. There is nothing Nona likes more than having cool fashions to wear, so she was pretty jazzed. Then she puked.

Well, its been awhile, but I'm going to have to dust off the "Japan's weird, did you know that?" file. Not that the insanity ever stops, mind you, but at some point you just get accustomed to it. Like, it happens and you're just like "eh, been there done that". The bar is effectively raised, so it will take some awesomely jaw-dropping shit to really make you pause and go "wow...that's fucked up".

So I was dragged shopping somewhere again by my wife. But it was okay this time - my brother-in-law was also there, and despite being male he actually LIKES shopping. So the wife was able to get the male input of "oh, that's cute!" or "I don't think that suits you" that she desperately craves for* without having to torture me to do it. Given a stay of execution, I was allowed to go off and sit down wherever I should find a place to sit.

*Despite wanting to drag me along shopping and ask my opinion on stuff, when I do give an opinion she never listens to me. I think I've ranted about this before though.

I wandered off and eventually found a bench in what appeared to be a kids section. In front of the bench were those dispenser machines that spit out some cheap $1 toy in a bubble. At first I didn't really pay attention to them. It was your standard fare - Gundam, something with little girls who have oversized breasts and magical powers, and I dunno, maybe something Disney.

However, I happened to be sitting right in front of a rather peculiar one. It struck me as odd at first, because the animation was so...well...simple. Just this green-pea-looking dude among all the Gundams and lolita bishoujos. It looked like something any 5-year old could draw.

But upon closer inspection, I found that this was peculiar for an entirely different reason. Haven't figured it out yet? Well here, take a closer look.

Still clueless? Well, I guess that's understandable. I mean, when looking at an animated character marketed to kids, the last thing one would expect to find is a raging fuckin' boner.

Look at him. Look at how happy he is about that shit. I can almost hear the voice of Stuart from MadTV. "Lookit at what I can do!"

So the character is named Mari Mokkori. This being a bit of word play - "marimo" being the word for green algea clusters of which Hokkaido apparently has plenty (thus the character's green disposition), and "mokkori" being slang for "boner". I'd never heard of the word "mokkori" before, apparently I haven't been hanging out in the right circles or something. But this almost certainly begs the question - who was the genious who thought "hey, why don't we make a green algea character who also sports a nifty hard-on?" It seems like a bad punchline, but not only is this real...its a popular and highly marketable children's character in Japan. The guy who thought to combine aquatic flora and male erections and market that to children is probably rolling in mad bank right now. Just let the reality of THAT sink in for a few moments, and when you come back I'll have tissues for you to cry in.

When my wife and brother IL came back, I pointed out my new discovery, only to find them not even remotely fazed. Brother IL had recently been to Hokkaido, and he tells me that the character is extremely popular there. My brother-IL also tells me that in Hokkaido, Mari Mokkori has his own theme song. He even sang a few bars for me, at which point I think I lost the final shreds of hope I had for humanity.

Almost in desperation, I try to point out the absurdity of the situation.

Me: But, look where we are! This is the KIDS section! Isn't this highly inappropriate to market to children?! Bro: Nah, it's okay, right? Kids are too young to understand this stuff. Its harmless. Me: Isn't this the country where guys can get $40 blow-jobs from sex shops in the middle of the city, and where train lines had to institute "women-only" cars because the groping problem got out of hand? Bro: ....Oh yeah, huh?

I, of course, had to buy two of the cheap toys. They turned out to be rubber balls. So now I can bounce around a rubber ball in my house featuring a seaweed with a boner. Nice.

Later at home, I was still kind of stunned about the whole thing, so my wife tried to point out that Japan isn't the only country guilty of oddities.

Her: Okay, yeah, he's erect and all, but that one American toy is worse I think. Me: ...What could possibly be worse. Her: You know, you showed me the video on YouTube...that bukkake gun or whatever it was.

She is, of course, referring to The Oozinator.

Me: ...Oh. Oh! But I dunno, that wasn't intentional. I don't think they realized what they were doing. Her: A kid furiously pumping a long shaft until thick, sticky gobs of white goo shoot out from the tip? How could they not know? Me: ...Oh yeah, huh? Come to think of it though, its amazing this toy didn't catch on in Japan. Her: I think most Japanese guys would think, "If I'm going to be covering someone in sticky white goo, why do I need to use this gun?"

So there you have it. A brand new entry for the "Japan's weird, did you know that?" file. On one hand, I kind of like that Japan isn't nearly as uptight about all things sex as America is. On the other hand, its still a green little algea boy with a boner. I can't imagine having my little daughter one day rush home to show me the drawing of her favorite character - Mari Mokkori. "Look daddy, I made mine brown just like you, and I made sure to draw his erection a little bigger too!" And people keep asking me why I don't want to raise kids here.