11. A twelv​e year old girl has a baby,​​​ shoul​d she keep it?
This is kind of a silly question. I mean, who would give a 12-year-old girl a baby? Talk about a spoiled kid. My 9-year-old cousin, he’s always asking for candy and toys and everything else whenever I’m watching him. Sometimes I’ll get something for him, but most of the time I just have to say “No.” And he always says, “Why?” And I say, “Because we’re not going to get that this time.” The answer doesn’t satisfy him, but that’s how it goes. It’s the only way he’ll learn. If he asked me for a baby, I’d tell him “No.” He’d ask why and I’d say “Because we’re not getting a baby today.” I think that’s the only reasonable response. Gee whiz.

But that’s not the question. The question supposes this spoiled brat already has the baby, and should she keep it. Supposing, as I am (correctly), that this girl is spoiled, she’s probably going to lose interest in it within a couple weeks and will start asking for an iPhone or something. So, I would say no, she shouldn’t keep it. She should donate it to the Salvation Army or something. There are a lot of less fortunate kids out there who really want a baby and would appreciate it a lot more than that little brat.

12. Shoul​d the alcoh​ol age be lower​ed to eight​een?​​​
On the surface, I see where this question is coming from: An 18-year-old is old enough to fight in a war for his country but not to get wasted for his country? It’s like a logical contradiction or something. But only on the surface. You see, medical science and observation has determined 21 to be the suitable age for people to handle drinking alcohol. Of course we all know that many people over 21 drink alcohol and act like idiots, which means there are many people under 21 who could drink it and not act like idiots (actually, it does not necessarily mean this—it’s a logical fallacy—however, for the sake of argument, I think we can agree that there are some people under 21 who can handle their booze). But this is where we find beauty in the arbitrary. We do not have the resources as a society to individually evaluate every single person every year, beginning at age 16, to see if they should be allowed to drink (and we can’t rely on parents to monitor this, either: I saw a recent election commercial—with convincing sound effects!—that said some parents will stick bamboo shoots under their teenage daughter’s fingernails if she gets pregnant… Parents are assholes!). We don’t have the means to evaluate this, nor to enforce it. Therefore, the arbitrary selection of age 21 for alcohol consumption (and it is arbitrary; no one can dispute this) allows a healthy presumption that one will be able to handle it, at least physically. Inevitably there will be exceptions, but practicality demands this method. The arbitrary age might be lowered to 18, but given the prevalence of alcohol abuse and addiction—as well as the greater likelihood of negative physical effects—my question you is, why?¹

13. Shoul​d the war in Iraq be calle​d off?
Seems like it would be hard to get ahold of. I’m not even sure if we have the phone number. But, for the sake of argument, let’s say we do. It’s always a disappointment to a lot of people when big events are called off. Usually people have already scheduled things around it and it’s a such a hassle to try to get your money back. So I’d say calling it off would be too drastic. If they need to take something like a rain delay or whatever, that’d probably be OK. I mean, not only is war hard to do in the rain, but it’s less enjoyable too. So I’d be OK with that. But “calling off”? Nah. And, like I said, the line would probably be busy anyway.

14. Assis​ted suici​de is illeg​al do you agree​?​​​
I agree. At least I’m pretty sure it is in most places. Possibly not in Vermont or Euthanasiachussetts. But generally speaking, I agree: it’s illegal.

15. Do you belie​ve in spank​ing your child​ren?​​​
I assume you mean parents spanking their children, since I don’t have any legitimate children, personally.

Let me tell you a story. When I was growing up, I didn’t get spanked. I’d hear about it, on TV and stuff, but my family just didn’t believe in spanking. We didn’t look down on others who did believe in it (although sometimes my aunt would make snide remarks about parents who believed in spanking their older children: “Don’t they read the newspaper?”, etc.). So that was just the way I was brought up.

But then something happened. My parents got divorced, and my dad remarried. And the woman he married had a son around my age. And they did believe in spanking children. I guess my dad was still trying to make a good impression, so he told me I had to pretend to believe in spanking. This annoyed me because I had never believed in it before, and I wasn’t planning on it. And my poor sister—she was probably 6 or 7 at the time—she was so confused. She said she did believe in spanking, and even tried to convince me to believe too. It was a mess. I vowed to never ever believe in spanking children.

Then, late one winter night, a noise woke me. I crept downstairs to see what all the scuffling was about. I realized it was coming from outside, in front of our house. On my hands and knees, I peeled back the curtain, just enough to take a peek. There, out in the bitter cold, I saw it. A huge man in red sweatpants and one of those jackets with the wooly collars and a red beanie. He was holding something. A bag of trash, maybe. But wait, what was this? There was someone else with him. A little boy, not much younger than I was. The man seemed to be having a stern conversation with the boy. Then the little boy gave him some sass. You know: sass. That’s when the big guy, who I guess was the kid’s dad, set down his big trash bag. He tucked an arm under the kid’s belly so his butt was in the air, and gave it two swift smacks. I could see the kid’s foggy breath as he gasped. I tumbled back from the window, the curtain drifted closed, and I whispered, “I do believe…”

From that night on, whenever some ivory tower egghead gets on his soapbox and says, in his egghead accent, “As a compassionate person with a PhD., I simply do not believe in the spanking of children”—well, I just sit quietly and smile to myself. Because I know the truth. I saw it with my own eyes…

OK, that’s all for now. The fourth and final part will be upon you shortly.

1. Sorry, that was a real answer. I’ll try to joke harder in the next one.

For example, this racist, duckist drawing I sent to Caitlin for Facebooking the crap out of my URL:

If you’ve already done your part, comment at me or email me (conlan at thisisconlan.com). Or even twitter me, if you’re cool enough. Just let me know and I’ll get your awesomeness in the mail (e). If you haven’t already done your part, do it. This is a limited-time offer. In this economy, an offer like this can’t go on forever, so get to it!

Also, keep your internet dial right here for more thrills, controversy, and special (not literally) announcements in the coming days.

In the meantime please enjoy this old piece I wrote on an old blog about graduating from college, back when I graduated from college.

On recieving a B.A. and one’s subsequent profusion of wealth, sex appeal, and moral authority

A lot of people have been asking me, they’ve been saying, “Conlan, what’s it like now that you’re a college graduate? Are you universally respected and lusted after by beautiful and/or superhot women? Do countless employers lay jobs at your feet like sacrificial lambs? Have car thieves finally stopped stealing your car (three times) out of sheer awe for that piece of paper on your wall?”

And I’ve got to stop them there.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I say. “Hold on there.” The only piece of paper on my wall is a rejection form letter from Boulevard Magazine that I hang there to remind me what a loser I am. My diploma is somewhere around here; I think I shoved it in my bookcase somewhere. I’m sure I’ll find it when I move.

As for all that other stuff, yes. It’s kind of—though not exactly—like that.

For example, when I say hi to an attractive female—whereas in the past she would glare at me with suspicion then shuffle off mumbling words like “freak” or “[inaudible]hole”—now when I see an attractive woman, I say, “Hi, I have a bachelor’s degree,” and the response is quite different. She’ll usually glare at me with derision then shuffle off mumbling things like “loser” or “ass[inaudible].” I think it’s the subtle differences that matter most.

As for jobs, well, what can I say? Having a B.A. definitely looks impressive on my resume, right above “No relevant work experience or other compelling reason to hire me.” It probably wouldn’t look so impressive, except I used a really cool font, Comic Sans, at 36 pt. And that’ll impress anybody with half a sense of awesome. I haven’t heard back from any potential employers yet (except the ones that said no), but I will definitely keep you guys updated on that.

Finally, I think I can safely say that the car thieves have developed a healthy esteem for our country’s educational system, and aren’t planning on borrowing my car for a fourth time any time soon. At least not until August or so.

The important thing to remember about college degrees is, even if it doesn’t make me important, sexy, and popular, it does make a better human being than people who don’t have one. And that, my friends, is what education is all about.

The reason this was particularly hilarious is because some dummy (who obviously never graduated from college) completely missed the obvious satire and took it as a personal attack. He commented that I was “arrogant” for thinking that I was a better person than he was, and proceeded to whine in the unappealing way that uneducated people do. What an idiot. He’s probably on Welfare or dead in a gutter by now. Hopefully both.

So this gave me an idea. Some people have friends, right? So what if those people told their friends to read my blog? That’d be pretty cool, huh? But why would anyone go to all the trouble of telling someone something? How about: to get a special “thank you” gift? That’s how PBS rolls, and what’s good enough for Jim Lehrer is good enough for me.

So, I formally present to you:

Here’s how it works: You tell three (3) of your friends who aren’t yet familiar with the brilliance of This is Conlan to check it out. You can just send them to http://www.thisisconlan.com, or, if you’re really nice, you can use the “browse” button or search field at the top (or dig through the archives) to find some of your favorite posts and link directly to those—for that personal touch. Maybe they will become regular readers, maybe they won’t. But the point is, you tried.

Here’s a sample email you could send:

Dear Someone I Never Heard Of,

Go see this blog: [LINK]. I think it’s [funny, stupid, has pretty colors, whatever]. Check it out because I want a prize.

Sincerely,
Someone Else

“Sounds easy enough,” you say. “But this is America, see? Yeah, and I ain’t gonna do nothin’ for nothin’, ya follow me? What’re the goods?” Well, my 40s-gangster-movie-poorly-impersonating friend, I will tell you.

Everyone who refers three or more people to my site will receive one (1) electronic version of an original hand-drawn piece of art by me, Conlan.

For example, Dominique James, some chick who I met once, has referred multiple people to my site, some of whom even linked to me without my knowing! That’s pretty good public relations. For her unwavering support, I am presenting Dominique with this personal, hand-crafted image:

Not a bad deal, right?

“But Conlan,” you say. “This is America. How will you keep track of these referrals?”

What happened to your accent? I’m glad you asked. This is America, and there are no truer, bluer, American pure-o’-hearts than all of you who read my blog. I am comfortable with a little thing I like to call, The Honor System. If you refer three people, and you’re reasonably satisfied that they at least took a look, let me know. Email conlan at thisisconlan.com or leave a comment with your email address (it won’t be displayed), and I will send you your very own digital copy of a digitally-drawn¹ drawing.

I have no idea how this will work. If I’m inundated (as I trust I will be, due to your overwhelming loyalty and goodwill), it may take a while to finish all the drawings. If not, it won’t take as long. I ask that you please bear with me as we embark together on this historic experiment.

Thank you.

Note: The drawings will have nothing to do with anything and you have no say is what is contained in the drawing you get. It could be dirty².

1. I mean with my fingers holding a pen.
2. It won’t be.

6. Do you think​ Marij​uana shoul​d be legal​ized?​​​
I lived in San Francisco for two years, where it is legal (pretty much). I think it smells like sweaty dirt, so I was opposed. However, I did not know it was a proper noun. This new knowledge will cause me to reevaluate my position. I believe all nouns should be respected, but proper nouns have fundamental rights. But Marijuana? I guess this will take more pondering. It’s a pretty sticky pickle.

7. Are you for or again​st prema​rital​ sex?
War is terrible thing. Everyone agrees on that. Even the Martians (IRONY ALERT!). Some people say war is hell. I don’t know if this is theologically accurate, but I think the sentiment is clear. Listen, life would be simpler if everyone knew karate (or even taekwondo), but they don’t. Only the majority of people do. So, war is going to happen. It just is. And what if the government takes over? Martial sex, logistically, is much too difficult, so I think as a community we need to come together and support pre-martial sex¹. See question 9.

8. Do you belie​ve in God?
Well, I don’t know. I think it’s pretty clear that Beckett never planned for him to show up (despite the good faith of Estragon and Vladimir). But that raises an interesting literary question: Is a character really a character if he never “physically” appears (and may in fact not exist at all in the play’s fictional universe), yet remains a vital presence—so much so that there would not be a story without him? This in turn raises existential questions (which is perhaps what Beckett intended): What makes a person a person? If a deaf person falls in the forest, does he get hurt? It’s this type of thing—where literature and philosophy intersect in a complex web without easy answers—that allows Dane Cook to be as popular as he is.

9. Do you think​ same sex marri​age shoul​d be legal​ized?​​​
No way, not at all. You have to spice things up. I think married couples should be required (by law) to do it in at least three different positions, on a rotating basis².

10. Do you think​ it’s wrong​ that so many Hispa​nics are illegally movin​g to the USA?
This is an interesting question because it contains variables of algebraic complexity. Let’s see if we can dissect it.

Do you think
a. it’s wrong - What is “wrong”? Is it a question of morality or legality? See point ‘d’.
b. that so many - How many? Is there a certain number above which it would be wrong, but below which it would be OK?
c. Hispanics - Hispwhatsits?
d. are illegally - If “illegality” is wrong, see point ‘a’. If it is not, why do we have laws?
e. moving to the USA? - Are any of them illegally moving to other places, like Canada? Would this be wrong? At what quantity would it be wrong?

Gee whiz, I wish people would put more thought into the rhetorical structure of their bullshit MySpace survey questions.

Stand by for Part 3…

1. Also, post.
2. Also, a “rotating basis” can count as one of the positions.

The theme was Movies. Here I am:

The green patches are trees. The white is the snowcapped peak.The orange thing is a crack.

BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN

Naturally.

Update 11/11/08: I forgot to give mad props to my lovely Aunt Karen who spent hours helping me construct this masterpiece. And by “helping”, I mean my contribution was basically buying the cloth and tubing, and cutting out and gluing on the trees; she did everything else.

Programming note: I’m counting the TIME it takes to read this as the third dimension, along with the height (first) and width (second) of the screen. This is instead of the traditional third dimension: depth. If this annoys you, and you prefer the “traditional definition” of the third dimension, you are undoubtedly a bigot and probably want all 12-year-old girls to have babies with assault rifles (see question 11). But I want equality for all dimensions! And too bad for you, grandpa! Obama’s gonna be president now and he’s gonna give everyone all the dimensions they want; spread the space-time around. I heard Stephen Hawking is going to be the new Secretary of Health and Human Services!

But I digress. Let’s get on with the controversy.

1. Do you have the guts to answe​r these​ quest​ions and re-​​​post this as The Contr​overs​ial Survey?​​​
No.

2. Would​ you do meth if it was legal​ized?​​​
Maybe, but not very much. Sometimes I like to figure out my gas mileage by dividing the miles driven by the number of gallons it takes to fill up. And one time I needed figure out how much money I needed to pay my bills. But really, it’s rare. And I don’t even remember anything from calculus.

3. Abort​ion:​​​ for or again​st it?
Listen, I’m no astronaut (nor have I ever pretended to be—although one time I did wear adult diapers and drove a really long way). In fact, I hate astronauts. I learned this from the UCB. But I’m tolerant. Don’t get me wrong, I wish they’d all just blast off (if you know what I mean). Effin’ astronauts, I hate them so much.

4. Do you think​ the world​ would​ fail with a femal​e presi​dent?​​​
I and most geologists agree, were a woman to be elected president of some country, the Earth’s core (comprised of a mixture of iron, nickel, and robots) would become unstable. The robots, deprived of their iron-nickel fuel would not be able to compute the complex brain teasers sent weekly from Jupiter, King of the Planets. Thus, the Earth’s scores would drop significantly (and we’re only at a C- average as it is!), and the world would indeed fail. The physical process of this is too scientific to go into here, but it has to do with estrogen and lava and read between the lines.

5. Do you belie​ve in the death​ penal​ty?​​​
It can be appropriate sometimes, but personally I think it’s one of the most overused calls in the NFL.

Stand by for MORE…

In any case, I’ve received some really great feedback on the new ads I’ve been trying out. My friend James said, “What the hell” in an encouraging way. Some other guy I know expressed utter disgust, but he grew up on a dairy farm so he was probably just traumatized from that. That is all the feedback I received. On the practical side of things, I have already earned upwards of one dollar, so I’m going to leave them up for now. And by “for now”, I mean at least for a little while longer. I might take them down tomorrow.

This week, Odin-willing, I will have some interesting blogsperiments for you to hypothesize, test, result, and conclude.

By the power of Thor: Stay tubed.