The Wedgie: An introspective

There comes a time when everyone has to reflect. Everyone has to take a look back on their life and think, "What are some things that have shaped me? What are some things that have made me… me?" Recently, while thinking back, I remembered an incident in my life that was an eye opener for me. Well, I shouldn't say I 'remembered'. It's not really something that can be forgotten. The incident made me understand that we are fragile creatures, susceptible to all kinds of nature's wraths. The day I am referring to is the day that I was given... a wedgie.

Yep. A wedgie. It happened. Full on happened, when I was in grade five. I should give some background on me at that time. When I was a kid, I was picked on a lot. I get why. I was really keen about school, my hair was always parted, my clothes were terrible, and I was really shy. I always had to be early for school. Always. I would get up early, get all of my stuff together, then just sit by the door and worry that I was going to be late. I would cry to my mom until she took me.

"Mom! I have to go to school! I'm gonna be late!"

"What? It's six thirty in the morning! School doesn't start until eight and I'm driving you there!"

"I need to be there! I'm gonna be late!"

"Jesus Christ. Fine. I'll take you now. The school is ten minutes away. You're gonna be an hour and a half early. That's what you want? You got it!"

Most time, I was at school before the teachers were. Teachers would show up and I would be standing outside.

"Nathan? What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

"No. I just didn't want to be late."

"Late? You don't have to be here for an hour!"

"I thought I would be late. I'm an anxious kid!"

"...Wow. If I were your age, I wouldn't even be here. I don't want to be here now, but they pay me. Actually, I don't get paid to come in early. Yeah, what the hell am I doing here! Thanks for the talk, Nathan. I'm going home."

That part hasn't changed. To this day, I hate to be late. I really dislike it. Just know that if we are ever supposed to meet, and you say seven, I'm there at six thirty. That is a fact about me. I'll show up, look at where I'm supposed to meet you, and then walk around for a bit and still get there before you.

"Huh, they're not here, probably because they said they'd be here a half hour later than now. Guess I'll walk around and try to make it seem as if we showed up at the same time."

Not only were my clothes terrible, I was always really worried about not doing well in school, and I was horrified to be late, I used to cry all the time as well. Yeah. I wasn't really giving kids a reason not to pick on me. Cry about anything and everything.

"Nice hat!"

"Ahh, come on, man! Sniff Sniff. It's all that I have!"

I remember one time in grade two I cried because a guy made fun of me for not being able to open a Handi-Snack. I kept trying to open it and the wrapper kept falling down. A kid who was probably in grade five walked by and made fun of me.

"Oh, can't open it, huh? Ohhhhh!"

And he kept doing the action that I was doing – opening and re-opening the wrapper! I dropped the Handi-Snack and ran home. Ran home and cried! If I had this me as a kid, it would be hard to care after awhile.

"You're crying, again? About what? A Handi-Snack this time? Jesus. You want to get these culprits back? Tell them that hanging out with you is like always watching the saddest parts of Titanic on a loop. That'll make them cry."

So now you have a little back-story on how I was as a kid. Grade five. The day of the wedgie. On this faithful day, I was walking to school. There was a path behind my house that was called the 'power lines', basically because it had power lines on it. We were pretty clever.

"Hey, you guys want to go the store?"

"You mean the 'product-selling building'?

I was walking and I ran into five of the cool guys from school. You could always tell who the cool kids were in the 90s. The cool people all wore Starter jackets. Remember in the early 90s when Starter jackets were the greatest things on the planet? This was before hipster kids who weren't cool enough to wear them in the 90s started to wear them.

"I found it for forty dollars. Isn't it cool? No, the suspenders didn't come with it. I bought these separately."

In the 90s, if you had a Starter jacket, the world – at school – opened up to you. People opened doors, held your book bag, did your tests for you.

"No, thank you Mr. Starter jacket, man! Just to be close to you gives me the feeling that, one day, I too can be cool."

"Shut up, loser."

"You got it, Mr. Starter jac... Ow! Great jab."

So the cool Starter jacket kids saw me. They looked at their jackets, looked at mine, and saw that I was not wearing what it took to hang out with them.

"Hey, his jacket doesn't have an S with a star on it. Ours do!"

"Hey... you're right. That's a different jacket! Oh, man. I pray for these days!"

Once they figured this out, they started calling me names.

"Nathan... Nathan! Where are you going, Naaaaathan?!"

Okay, they weren't really 'names', but I was an anxious nervous kid! Also, you had to hear their tone. Their tone? Their tone implied that they wanted me to feel bad. You don't say someone's name with about eight extra a's if you want them to feel good about themselves. For some reason, that makes people feel dumb.

"Hey, Staaaaarbucks, guy. Can I have a tall mild?"

"What? What's wrong with what I'm wearing? I'm just working here to further my photography career! Why do you have to mock me? Why!"

One of the Starter jackets was an old friend of mine. We went to daycare together. Actually, one time, I went to his house when we were in grade four. He literally kicked his grandmother in the stomach and power-bombed her onto a bed when she asked him if he wanted butter on this toast.

"You want butter?"

"Butter? It's on!"

I thought that was a moment, but was he going to help me? Nope. He saw his opportunity to hang out with the cool people. He had already bought the jacket, so he couldn't stick up for someone like me.

"Guys, let's leave him alone. He saw me put wrestling moves on my grandmother."

"...What? Are you sticking up for a guy who doesn't have one of these balling-ass jackets? Wow. Tear the S off of that, man. You don't deserve it."

"But... guys... you know me. I listen to Tupac. I wear the jacket. I'm cool!"

"I said rip it off! Starter would be disgusted by you."

The Starter jacket guys started running after me. I didn't think they wanted to do anything good when they caught up to me, so I took off into the woods to hide from them. I ran for a bit and lost them! I was sitting there, thinking that they were stupid and couldn't find me, and then I remembered that I had to go to school. I was going to be late!

"No, I can't be late! I'll be a complete failure at life!"

So I left my hiding spot, and starting running to school, crying the whole way.

"I'm gonna be late! I'm gonna be late and as soon as I get to school these guys are going to beat me up! Why would anyone put a ten year old through this!?"

I got to school, and realized that I was there before the bell. Perfect, I was on time, and these guys are nowhere in sight! I did it. Just then, over the hill, there they came. Running and laughing because they knew what they were going to do.

"Told you'd he be at school! That's where nerds go. School! The place that we have to go but don't want to go!"

These Starter jackets guys came running down the hill toward me. I didn't know what they had in mind, but I knew it wasn't good. I knew it was not something I was going to like. I knew that it wasn't going to be playing pog.

"Why'd you run, man? We just wanted to see if you wanted to play for slammers. And to start you off, we were going to give you ten for free!"

I was prepared for something, but not what happened. They grabbed my underwear and lifted me over their heads. Over! I was in the air, yelling something that I don't remember, looking down at my old friend wearing his Starter jacket.

"But, why? I saw you jackknife your grandmother. I didn't tell your mom! I didn't try to stop you! We went to daycare together. Why?!?"

"You ever try on one of these jackets?"

"No, actually. Are they comfortable?"

"More comfortable than being lifted in the air by your Fruit of the Looms."

"Haha. Oh, you're right about that. Ah, man. Good one."

I was hoping that the underwear would break so that I would fall. Didn't even kind of happen. These must have been the strongest underwear in the world.

"Mom, thanks a lot. These underwear you bought me don't break."

"Oh, that's good to know. I'll get some more."

"It's not good to know when you're being held in the air by them! I need underwear that can break, dammit! I need underwear that tears apart like Hulk Hogan's shirts!"

"Nathan, you know I can't afford to buy you Hulk Hogan underwear. I'll keep getting the 'wouldn't-break-if-two-trucks-pulled-on-them' kind."

"That's it! I'm not wearing underwear anymore!"

Finally, they just put me down. I don't remember why. Probably because it stopped being fun once they realized that they weren't going to be able to rip me in half.

"Didn't you guys think this would split him in half like Baraka from Mortal Kombat?"

"Yeah, man! I've been playing a ton of that game. That's what I had in mind."

"This isn't a fatality at all. More like a bore-ality. This sucks."

The people around who were watching got bored and I was just put down. It took me a few minutes to straighten out my underwear, and that got the audience to watch again.

"Hey, look at this. The guy who was in the air by his underwear now has to straighten that underwear out. Oh, man. That's great... Well, I'm done. Anybody have any Gushers?"

Twitter @nathanmacintosh

The first Obama/Romney debate.

The presidential debates have started. The time when the president has to take time out of running a country to debate a man who wants to take his place. I do not watch reality. I watch these. These are the best reality shows there are. Why? It's because the votes here are for all the marbles, unlike other shows where you vote to see who will win a singing contest or who will eat a June bug.

"Man, I HATE Jason. I'm gonna vote twice for him to have to drink battery acid. That'll teach you, you 'I-love-my-wife-and-kids' piece of trash! Take that family-loving-shit to the OWN network!"

I watched the first debate the other night and here are some of my thoughts on it.

My first thought was – did Mitt have a bet with someone that he could say 'middle class' more times than George Bush said 'freedom'?

"Hey, how many times did Bush say 'freedom' during his presidency?"

"Jesus, I don't know. It'd be easier to tell you how many M&M's are in a gallon jug. Millions?"

"Huh. I bet you I can beat that."

"Sorry, what?"

"I can say 'middle class' more times than he said 'freedom'. Wanna bet pink slips?"

"...Mitt, Jesus... why? This isn't The Fast and the Furious. Plus, middle class people get offended when you say middle class. You have maids, Mitt! Maids! Your name is Mitt! You don't have any idea about the middle class! Your first name is Willard!"

"Hell, middle class. I love middle class more than I love middle class. Middle class? Middle class, middle class. Middle!"

"Mitt, please, tell me you're getting those out now before this debate begins."

"I'd middle love class to, but I'm middle just getting class started."

Everyone has been talking about Barack not really showing up. Barack did act as if he wasn't focused, or at least as though he was tired. Nobody brought up the fact that it was his twentieth anniversary of his marriage to Michelle, though. Michelle and Barack seem to be crazy in love. He was probably tired because he was up all night.

"Michelle, I'd... love to have sex... with you... one more time. But... as you know... I... have a presidential debate... ah,... tomorrow. So... in the best interest of that... annnnd to take my opponent seriously... I believe... I should... drink some water... annnnd get some sleep. I hope that... on our twentieth anniversary... that making love nineteen... ah, times... will suffice."

"Barack, Mitt isn't a problem. Come back to bed."

"Well, it seems as though... new facts... have ahhh, come to light. And with these... new developments, I will, ahhh, get back into bed... annnnd deliver... on this twentieth time."

It had to have something to do with their anniversary. Either having sex or arguing all night about the date it fell on.

"Michelle, now I know... we've been married... for twenty years. Annnd as much as I... would love to take you to dinner... oooor a show... I have... a very important debate... to attend."

"I can't believe this, Barack! We only have one twentieth year anniversary. One! How can you spend it arguing with a soulless white man on national TV!?"

"Michelle... now you know... I love you... annnd the twenty years... we've spent together. But... I have to debate... this soulless man. I have to... be wide awake... annnnd alert. Can we possibly... talk about this... ah... tomorrow?"

"Oh, no, Barack. We canNOT talk about this tomorrow. We will talk about it right now! I don't care if you look like you had a twelve-hour lay over in Dubai! We're gonna talk this out NOW!"

Also, during the debate, why do the debaters not directly address each other? Why? Out of respect? Isn't it much more respectful to address the person you are talking about if they are in the room, much less standing next to you, AND you are debating them?

"Under the president's policies, we are floundering."

"What do you mean 'under the president's policies'? I'm right here! Look me in the face and say, 'Because of YOUR policies. I ain't in the next room. Say it to my face, Mitt!"

Why not address each other? It would be ridiculous if they did this in any other part of their lives.

"Dinner's ready!"

"Well, because of my wife's cooking, the pot roast is burnt. I just don't think her recipe for such a dish is up to par with others on the market."

"I'm in the kitchen with you, Mitt! Can you not just address me? I can't stand this anymore! I know you are getting ready for your debate, but talk to me when you're talking to me! And last night's, 'I just don't think my wife's sexual intercourse is as much on her mind as the families laundry' is not cute. You know we wear clothes once and then throw them in the trash, pouring gasoline on them so that disgusting poor people can't reuse them, Mitt. You know that!"

Once the debate was over, people freaked out about both men lying.

"He lied this many times!"

"Yeah, well, YOUR guy lied this many times!"

As if that's supposed to be something. They're both not going to tell the full truth! That is how this whole thing is done. They can't just be up there telling you everything. That wouldn't be a presidential debate. It would be an episode of Jersey Shore.

"Governor Romney, what are your views on the poor?"

"Poor? 'BEEP' the poor! Pull yourself up by your bootstraps, that is if you have any, you broke pieces of trash. Jesus, is it THAT 'BEEP'ing hard to make two hundred million dollars? The only time I let poor people around me is when I'm paying my 'BEEP'ing gardener, and even then I tell him to go to the end of the driveway, and I shoot his cheque at him from a t-shirt gun. Poor. Please. Get the 'BEEP' out of here."

Personally, I love some of the lies. Especially the stories that each man told about poor, sad women running up to them. They were just these ridiculously sad stories of downtrodden people who came up to them to get the crowd on their side.

"Just yesterday, a woman grabbed my arm and said, 'I have cancer in all of my arms, both of my hands are mechanical, and I am currently on fire. Can you help me?' And the answer is yes, I can help, if I become president. Stay alive long enough to vote and I'll throw some water."

If these actually do happen, why only tell the sad stories? People must not always have sad things to say when they come up to presidential candidates.

"Just yesterday, a woman grabbed my arm and said, 'Hey, there's something in your teeth'. It's that kind of everyone-looking-out-for-everyone America that I want to live in. Vote for me and we'll ALL know when there are things in our teeth."

One thing about the debates that is crazy to me is the fact that they will cut off a third of the president and his opponent onscreen to show you jokes that people have tweeted. Are you serious? Tweets! Over the lower half of a man who is in charge of America and trying to tell you how he is going to run the country for the next four years.

"Let's talk about taxes here for a second. First, I think we need to... wait... what the hell is this? Are you cutting me off to show the tweet of someone from Idaho who's saying that he thinks this debate is less entertaining than a re-run of Captain Planet? What the hell are we doing here! I'm the damn president! I have to deal with this garbage. Am I a 

Kardashian? Is this 'Dancing with the Presidential Debaters'? No! Treat us with some kind of respect!"

In a country that would do this, who cares who is in control? Give it to Romney. Give it to a dishwasher or a Wendy's drive-thru employee. Give it to a tweeter! Funniest tweet about the debater's ties gets you the position of leader of the free world!

"Oh, look at this! Someone made a joke about how this debate is scarier than the movie Paranormal Activity! Why do we show this? It's because this whole damn thing is a joke anyway! Congrats to @wheresmycheerios, you're now in the most powerful position on the planet! Retweet with the hashtag #wanttolendusmoney to help lower the deficit."

Showing tweets during a presidential debate. I bet they wouldn't do that if it were the head of Apple and the head of Samsung debating.

"Are you kidding me? I don't care what @heartcats has to say about the Galaxy 3! Men are talking! This is very important! Whoever wins this debate will determine who – in my circle of friends and thusly me – are complete losers. Go, head of the company whose phone I bought!"

I know that it's fair, but it's funny to me that they decide who speaks first in a presidential debate the same way they determine who goes first in a rap battle. A coin toss. A coin toss to see who speaks first in a debate to see who will be leader of the free world. Who does that coin toss?

"All right, we're gonna do a coin toss to see who will call the other man gay in rhyme form a million times first."

"...What? That's not gonna happen here. This is a presidential debate!"

"Oh, right! Wrong event. I'm doing a coin toss across town at a rap battle after this. Okay, so which one of you fruits wants to call it?"

This is a big deal, so this coin is probably thoroughly inspected. Where does it come from? Is it brand new? It can't just be one from somebody's pocket?

"Coin toss? All right. Let me see what I have here. I've got a nickel from 1984. Will that do?"

"No, no. We need a quarter. I have one right here."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. A Romney quarter? That's not fair. We need a quarter that neither candidate has touched. What about the moderator?"

"NOPE."

"Fine, I'll call the mint and get them to print a fresh one. But this is ridiculous. I have a nickel right here."

"Drop the nickel, okay?! Just drop it!"

Twitter @nathanmacintosh

Laguardia. The little airport that could.

I have lived in New York for about a year and I fly in and out of it a decent amount. Anytime I can, I fly out of LaGuardia airport. It is so close that if it expanded, my house could potentially become a terminal.

"Whoa! What are you guys doing in my shower?"

"Well, technically you are in our shower. We have expanded to include the surrounding neighborhoods. Would you like to check in to your flight?"

"I'm not flying today."

"Well, check in for the next one! You probably don't need to. Now that I've seen you naked, I know it's you."

I think that's pretty great. Others, though, really cannot stand this airport.

People trash LaGuardia all the time. In May, it was actually ranked the worst airport in America. The worst! People tore it apart.

"It's dirty!"

"The ceilings are low!"

"It's too small!"

I absolutely love this airport. For many reasons, really. One reason – it is a ten-dollar cab ride from my house. Ten dollars! From an airport! 'Does he live in a terminal,' you ask? 'Is he a baggage handler who sleeps underneath one of the carts at night,' you wonder aloud?

"Well, I'm done for the day, boss. I'm going to curl up here on the jetway and get some shuteye."

"Go ahead. You've earned it. Wait, how have you found a way to sleep with all of these planes landing directly beside you?"

"I just try to picture myself dead. Works most of the time."

No. LaGuardia airport just happens to be in Queens, not far at all from where I live in Astoria. I like it because there is no way I will live this close to an airport again. Never. Unless one day, I move to Mexico to sell drugs and have my own airstrip on my property.

"Ah, my own airport. You know, this reminds me of the time I spent in New York. I lived really close to an airport."

"As close to this one, boss?"

"Who told you to speak to me! I am a drug kingpin and you are merely a man who moves suitcases from one spot to another. I will cut your head off! I will blow up your family! I will rain BULLETS UPON YOUR DREAMS! ...I'm sorry. I just have to practice being a druglord. You know how it is. Only my third week. But to answer your question, yes. Yes, it was this close."

In May, there was a poll on "The Ten Worst Airports in America". What was number one? LaGuardia. But the top five included EVERY airport in New York. All three airports made the top five. Basically, if you want to fly to New York, just don't. Drive, get a bus, hike, walk, ride a horse, crawl. Apparently ANYTHING is better than landing here.

"Where are you flying?"

"New York."

"Yikes! Hope it's not into any of the airports."

"Well... yeah, of course it is. Where else would it land?"

"Whoa! That's awful! Landing at an airport in New York? Bud, if you can, right before the plane lands, jump out. The pain you feel when you hit the tarmac will be less than the pain you feeling having to wait an extraordinary amount of time for your bag. Trust me. I waited there a month ago. The whole time, all I could think was, "I'd rather have cracked my head on the runway than wait for my own stuff."

I'm honestly not sure why it matters that much how good an airport is. Do planes land there? Will the plane that I'm on let me get off of it at this particular location? What else is there?

"It's not clean."

How long are you going to be spending in this airport? If it were great, would you just hang out there?

"I'm kinda hungry."

"Me too. You want to head to the gorgeous food court at the airport?"

"The airport? Why would we go out there?"

"Man, have you been there!? It's amazing! So many food options. It's really the only place I eat since they fixed it up. Oh, and the shopping? Unbelievable. They truly have the best selection of Lacoste polos in the city."

"...You don't wear Lacoste polos."

"Not the ones found out in these dirty streets! But the ones from the airport? They're something else."

LaGuardia is a small airport, but I don't know why that's a problem for people. You can still fly out of it. It's not as if you show up and hope that your plane will be leaving.

"I have a flight out of LaGuardia. It's so tiny that they draw numbers to see which planes will be flying out. I hope to JESUS they draw mine this time. Come on, six!"

You are still able to get out of the airport. You can still fly! Why does it matter that it's small?

"Man, what an inconvenience. This airport is so small; I can get directly to my gate in four minutes. That's ridiculous! I want to have to drag my bag through the airport, past the little mall that most other airports have. This airport doesn't even have an L.L. Bean store that I can walk by and think, 'Who the hell would shop at the airport?' Why take that joy away from me, LaGuardia? Why!?"

LaGuardia airport feels homey. It's almost as if you are landing in your grandmother's house. It's small enough that it feels as if it's hugging you when you land there. The ceilings are just as low and it's starting to fall apart just like your grandmother's.

"Watch out for the crown molding, honey. Last night a tile fell off and hit me right in the face! Blew my dentures right out. I laid on the floor for an hour before I was able to get up. Either way, would you like a cookie?"

The bigger an airport gets, the more completely useless things appear in it. A lot of airports are too big and just end up having a ton of things in them that you don't need.

"You know, we have four hundred gates here, but I'm thinking that we are missing something."

"I was thinking the same thing. …I know! What about a barber shop?"

"Yeah, that's great! For people who have layovers that are three days long, they can keep their hair looking great!"

"Exactly! And what about a tire rotation and oil change booth?"

"I love it! For the people who drive to the airport to park and fly. Before they leave, they can get a check-up on their car while they wait for their bags!"

"Right! Oh, oh. And what about a delivery room for women who just land and are tired of carrying around that bothersome baby?"

"Dear, God! This is going to be the biggest, best airport in the world!"

People talk badly about airports as if everything is completely fine with the planes. Too small, no leg room, people in front of you couldn't care less if you have knees after the flight and will lean their chair right into your face.

"Excuse me, do you mind not looking me in the eyes? I know I'm in your lap, but I paid for this seat and all of the leaning back it can do."

Why, though, are we so worried about the place the plane lands when the device that flew us to this location is not great? If you rented a car that was terrible to drive to Buffalo, you can't JUST be mad at Buffalo when you get there.

"This car had no room for me to put my stuff, I had to pay extra just to be able to roll down the windows and be comfortable, and it was RUDE to me the entire way. Man, I'm going to take all of this anger out on the place the car took me. Buffalo! Here I come, you garbage city. I hate everyone who lives here, and your ridiculous questions like, "Man, it must be cold in Canada, huh? Like the ice ages." You can see Canada! You see any Mastodons walking around over there! God, I hate this place."

Also, flights to LaGuardia actually end up where they say they are going. In New York. LaGuardia is actually IN New York. That's a big one for me. An airport that is where it says that it is. If you are flying from Canada with Porter, they will tell you they fly to New York.

"New York? Of COURSE we go there! Why would we not fly to the greatest city on earth? You can't be an airline and not fly to such a tourist destination."

But they do not fly to New York. Nope. Where do they land? Newark, New Jersey. Admittedly, New Jersey is not insanely far from New York, but it is New Jersey. New York? No. No, it is not. It is the state beside New York. They fly into a different state! Not only do they not fly into New York City, they don't even land in New York state! The entire state – they don't touch it. New Jersey is a completely different place, with different laws. One law that's different in New Jersey is that you need a state permit to purchase a long gun. New York? Not at all. You can walk right in and get one.

"Where's my permit? Hey, eat it, buddy. I was almost pissed on three times on the way over here by people who thought I was a unicorn. Gimme the damn long gun, pal."

Why do people allow this? Yeah it's close, but it's not where it says it's going.

"All right, everyone. We are now going to start our non-stop flight to Orlando, Florida. Now that the doors are closed and there's nothing you can do, I'll tell you that we'll be flying to Jacksonville! Yes, you're right, it's NOT Orlando, but it is closer to Orlando than where you are right now. Right? Am I right? We will be coming around soon with complimentary peanuts for everyone. 'Peanuts' is a loose term. It also encompasses poisons and snake venom, so who knows what you'll get. We just never say what we mean around here!"

Twitter @nathanmacintosh

Gun Control. Shoot if you hear me.

There have been many shootings in the last year, especially in the last three months. Most people would think there's been many in America, but in the last three months there have been a number of shootings in Canada, too. What is happening? Why are all of these shootings taking place? Honestly, I don't think anyone should care about that. People should care about getting rid of one of the major problems here. Guns.

The NRA will puke in your face if you talk about getting rid of guns. In their opinion, guns are not the problem. The guns are just chilling, trying to enjoy themselves before animals come by and pick them up.

"Come on! Why'd he have to shoot that family of baby gorillas with a gun? What's his problem? Did he HAVE to soil the good name of guns? Don't blame the gun. It didn't do anything! That gun was minding its own business, just being cool, before that idiot misused it."

"Isn't its function to kill?"

"Its first function is being cool. That is a fact." 

I love the NRA slogan. I always thought that should have been part of Charlton Heston's wedding speech.

"Do you take this woman to love and to hold 'til death do you part?"

Charlton Heston turns to the crowd and raises his wife's arm.

"...From my cold dead hands!"

The ONLY purpose of a gun is to kill. That is it. Nothing else at all. That is all it was made for. Knives have other functions. Bo staffs can be turned into mops. Nunchucks can even be used as a no-nonsense fan.

"Whoa, I'm hot."

"Here, let me cool you off."

"Ummm, aren't those weapons that you're spinning beside my head?"

"Currently, no. They are a chilling device like no other. Harm or shame my family, though, and they will kill you."

Guns can't do anything else but kill. That is all. What else can you use a gun for?

"Can you pass me that wooden spoon? I need to stir this pasta."

"Oh, I don't have a wooden spoon. Here, use this M-16 barrel."

"... Is that safe?"

"Of course. Just don't touch the trigger. I know, it'll be hard to not touch the trigger because you're used to a wooden spoon that has no trigger, but trust me, stay away from it."

I love when people say that if we all had guns, no one would shoot anyone else. Then why do gangs shoot at other gangs? Other gangs have guns. Why did cowboys shoot at each other? They could SEE that the other cowboy had a gun. He carried it on his waist! If everyone had a gun, there would still be shootings. People wouldn't become more civilized if everyone had a gun.

"Hey, man, give me your money!"

"Or else what?"

"Wow, wow. I didn't know you had a gun as well. This really changes things. Not gonna lie… kinda puts a damper on my plans here. I was going to take your money and put it into my savings account. I have a 2.7% interest rate."

"2.7%?! How did you get that?"

"Ah, well, I could go into detail with you. Would you like to grab a cocoa and discuss this financial matter, gentle sir?"

"Indeed I would, used-to-be-attacker. Indeed I would. Let me buy the cocoa."

"No, please, please. I pulled a loaded weapon on you, sir. The least I could do is buy you a beverage."

"Nonsense. I insist, young man. The delicious liquid is on me."

What do we need guns for? In all seriousness, what is the purpose? For a regular human – not a cop, not someone in the army – to have a gun? Hunting? Protecting yourself? Possibly just because you are allowed to have one? That seems like the true purpose.

"Legally, I can – so I am going to get a gun and damn anyone to hell who is going to try and stop me!"

"But why do you need it?"

"Need? I didn't say need. I'm allowed. So I'm going to do it! Just like I'm legally allowed to eat Funions. So I do it! I'm buying a gun and then I'm buying Funions. That's how this Tuesday is going to go. Doing all of the things I'm legally allowed to do!"

There are people who just plain love guns. Love guns and don't want them taken away. I say, they'll get over it. People lose things all the time that they love. Spouses, blankets, a certain stuffed animal, shoes, cars. If any of those things were written down as law maybe people would fight for them more.

"It says in the fifteenth amendment that legally my first blanket ever is not allowed to be thrown out by anyone in my family, even if they say it's 'taking up space in the garage'. Well, get a bigger garage, mom! You can't infringe on my rights!"

Let's get rid of these guns! We do not need them. What are we afraid will happen if we don't have them? Will a giant crayfish come out of the ocean and eat us all? Look, we can make some more guns if a fifty-foot crayfish attacks a city. That's when we'll pull them out. When a fifty-foot crayfish attacks a place, we'll start up the AK-47 factory again.

"Sir! There is a giant crustacean attacking Delaware!"

"...My God. I never thought it would come to this. All right, blow the dust off of that lever and pull it. We'll take 'Jay-Z/Kanye word' fish out the old fashion way. Bullet-ly."

"...Do you always have to say a witty one-liner before you get a gun?"

"Yes. The safety won't come off of them if you don't. I once tried to fire at a moose by saying, 'It's you or me, moose. Have you herd?' The gun jammed. I was nearly trampled to death."

Gun enthusiasts say they need guns to hunt. I understand that to a point, but people hunted without guns before and got it done. I think innocent people are more important than making hunting easier.

"There haven't been any shootings in years! It's great that they banned guns. Only thing that sucks now is that I have to get right up on a deer and slit his throat. I tell ya, it's really made hunting harder. I feel safer everywhere I go now, but the hunting? Whoa. I should be able to stand back and shoot the deer like a man from a distance and not feel its last breath while it dies in my arms, but I get it, I get it. We're safer. Thanks, guys."

People want to hunt, fine. But handguns? Can we at least get rid of those? There is no point of anyone having one. You are not going to hunt with one. Never. You will never need that, unless you are going to rob a deer.

"Ah, what's up, deer? Thought you could just prance through this forest all carefree, huh? Not today, bud! Gimme them antlers! That's right. Hand them over! Yo, give me some of that sweet fur, too. You think I'm messing around, deer? Well, I ain't! And gimme that cute look on your face!"

Gun lovers will also say they need guns to protect their houses, family and land.

"What if some nut rushes in here with a gun? I can't have one to protect myself? The law protects the criminal more than the victims!"

Why is it only the weapons that people want to emulate? A guy rushes in with a gun, he has a gun, and I should be able to have a gun. Why do we not believe that we should have the mindset of a maniac who will run into a house to combat a maniac running into your house?

"He's allowed to walk in here and kill people, and I can't even tell the bank teller that I'll choke her if she doesn't hurry up?! I have to protect myself. Where's the justice!?"

Guns aren't safe, so we shouldn't have them at all. In school, one person could ruin it for everyone.

"Well, Tom put gum under his desk and it got stuck to Susan's dress, so no more gum."

"Ah, geez! Thanks, Tom! I guess I'll just chew on my thoughts from now on."

We would live with that. And nobody died. Gum didn't kill anyone. People don't have this attitude when it comes to guns. People shoot and KILL innocent, random people, and we don't have the 'one person can ruin it' rule. People argue about it.

"Why should I lose my gun because some nut shot up a busy intersection!? I'm not crazy, he is. This is ridiculous. Obviously keep guns away from him. I just have guns in my home incase someone like him rushes in here. If you catch all of the people like him, I won't ever have to use my gun. So what are you waiting for? Hunt down the crazies and lock them up!"

The one person can ruin for everyone rule doesn't apply to guns at all.

What is the giant fear that people have of these elusive 'somebody's who are going to attack and kill us all.

"Those mutants are out there, and when they inevitably run at my house – I'll be ready."

Where are these people? Where! And why are we so afraid of them? You ever see a crazy person on the street? Some guy just screaming to himself about how he's going to kill someone?

"Take my pigeon! I'll show that dirtbag. I'll choke my pigeon!"

He's not scary, right? You just walk by him and keep going. Give that guy a gun and see how scary he becomes. We're only scared of crazy people who have guns, so WHY NOT GET RID OF THE GUNS! WHY!?

"Well, because if we don't have guns, then someone will get a gun and we'll need one."

People only have guns because they're scared other people have guns. If no one had guns, you wouldn't have to worry about that.

"Well, what about if they had a knife? Or a taser? Or a katana? Or a four-foot long samurai sword? Oh, oh, or what if they had a pocket full of piranhas that they were going to throw at you?"

Fine! I get it. You know what? No more guns, but we'll all carry missiles.

Twitter @nathanmacintosh

The border.

I have been living in America for almost a year now. I have a work visa to be here and I travel back and forth to Canada fairly often. A necessity for getting into either country is crossing the border. You'd think it would be easy to do with a visa, right? I have the proper papers to get in and out. But even with a visa, is this easy? Not really. Without a visa, was it easier? Kind of. Now that I'm allowed back and forth, they almost seem angrier with me than when I wasn't.

"What? You're allowed in here now? No, no, no. There has to be some kind of mistake. See, in America… we're American. You are Canadian. Do you see hear where the problem lies?"

The border is a necessary evil that has to be dealt with, but must everyone be so on edge? So angry? So uptight?

Since I have been crossing the border, it has always been a nerve-racking experience. There is nothing relaxed about it.

"Passport?"

"Yes, here you g..."

"Boo!"

"Ah!"

"Haha. Just keeping you alert. Give me that passport."

I can only assume that it wasn't always like this. Maybe there was a point in time when crossing the border was fun.

"Hey! Well, how the hell are you? Want to come into our country, huh? Why'd you even stop? Get the hell in there and buy all the cigarettes you can!"

Probably not, but one can imagine.

When crossing the border, why are these people so rude? There isn't a group that you will have to deal with who is as rude as the border people.

"Sir, your ex-wife is on line two, and for some strange reason, a border guard is on line three."

"What? Dear God. Put me on with my ex-wife. At least she'll ask me how I'm doing, no matter how sarcastic."

Border guards have dead eyes and tones that suggest they would cut a small child in half without even thinking about it.

"It'd be nice if that kid would stop crying. I mean, I'm just trying to enjoy this Taco Bell in a food court."

"I'll handle it."

"Handle it? Yeah, wouldn't that be great? Just grab the kid and… WHOA! What the hell are you doing?! You just ripped that kid in half!"

"I work at the border. I haven't felt an emotion in years. Now, you were saying? About the food court?"

"Yeah... food court... I was... GOD, MAN! A kid in half!"

It seems to be the only place where you are expected to have the indifference of T-1000. What is the training like to be a border guard? What rigorous steps are taken to make sure that you feel no emotion whatsoever anymore?

"Guys, I don't know what you were told about this job, but you are going to be dealing with the public."

"That's great. I have a lot of training in customer service."

"Wow, that is great! You're fired. We are not looking for people who know how to deal with the public. We're looking for people who when they step onto a bus, no matter what time of day, they scare the other passengers."

"I don't know about PEOPLE, but I'm scared of pit bulls that come onto the bus."

"Exactly. That's why all of you will be participating in dog fighting."

"Dog fighting?"

"Yes. Dog fighting. You will be trained to become a dog, and then fight other dogs as a dog. And if you don't kill the other dog, you'll die, but not only that, you will not get this job. You want to make some money? You'll learn how to bite a throat."

Sometimes you'll go through the border, and the person you talk to is really nice. RARELY does that happen, and it's probably because that person is fired right away.

"Excuse me, Chris? Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Of course, sir!"

"Ah, God. What did we tell you? When someone is nice to you, you throw some cut eye and say something to make that person feel the way their mom used to when they came home drunk at sixteen. That's how it's done! And did I just hear you tell those people that you let through to 'Have a nice day'?"

"Yes, sir. They were very nice. They are going home and I just thought tho..."

"You're being nice to these people? What the hell is wrong with you!? Look at Steve over there. He's practically jumping out of his booth and punching people in the face! You're holding their hands! That's it. Last week you looked someone in the eye and said 'Hello' and today you wish someone a 'nice day'? You're warned, bud. One more nice thing gets said to these criminals coming through here and you'll be cleaning bathrooms at truck stops."

What do these people do when they are not at work? I'd love to follow one of them around for a day that they're off. I assume that they kick kids, burn cotton candy and pop balloons all day.

"Ah, day off. I guess I indulge in one of my many hobbies. Heading down to the playground to pour water on the sand and turn it into mud. Maybe today, a kid will start to sink in it. One can only hope. God, one can only hope!"

Or they are just ushered back to the cave where they were taken from for the job.

"All right, shift's over. Put your cloak back on, pick up your lantern, and head back down to Middle-earth."

"But, sir, I was hoping that tonight maybe I could go down to the river and grab trout out of the water for myself and my family."

"You know damn well that Friday is 'Fish for your Family' day. It's Monday, Cre-ork. Back to the cave!"

"But, sir! The underworld is a dark and cruel place and I ca..."

"What did I say?! Your ghoulish problems are your ghoulish problems! 'Fish for your Family' day is Friday!"

When driving through, people are not nice. Flying through? Much of the same. But when flying, how many times does your boarding pass have to get scanned? Are all of these necessary? The last time I went through – seven times. Seven! Where do all of these scans go?

"All right, we've got a reading here. This man just went five steps from his last location. Shall I scan him again?"

"Of course! Six steps allows them to plot terrible things. Scan it now before it's too late!"

Why would they do it this much? It's not a movie ticket stub. We know that we can't just throw it out and still get on the plane.

"Where's your boarding pass?"

"Oh, I threw it out. I was just here, though. I am just running to the bathroom on the other side of security."

"Sir, you can't get in this section without a boarding pass."

"Ah come on, man! I threw it out! I didn't want to hold a boarding pass, my passport, my bag, and this copy of last month's Esquire magazine that your beautiful bookstores refuse to throw out but will not sell for a cheaper price. I mean, I don't have three hands!"

If I've gotten to you, sixth guy who stands and scans my boarding pass, do you not think I have a boarding pass? How would I get this far without one! Just making up stories the whole way?

"Sir, where's your boarding pass?"

"Ah, God. Do I have to do this again? I just made up five different stories to five different people about why I don't have one. Do you really need me to lie to you as well?"

"Yes. I'm the sixth guy. You don't think the sixth guy deserves a story?"

"Man, a sixth story! Okay. Ummm, let's see. I put my boarding pass down on the wing of a plane that I didn't think was going to be taking off for awhile, and low and behold, it took off!"

"Hmm, that's not bad! Did you just come up with that now?"

It seems they do all of these boarding pass checks and angrily ask questions because they want you to be so afraid that you start to believe you may have done something wrong.

"Where am I going? Where was I? Who am I? Where are my papers? Man, did I do something wrong? I just watched a movie where four hundred people were shot by Sylvester Stallone. Wait, was that a movie? Maybe it was me. Oh, man! I think I shot up a village! I'm sorry! I don't even know how I got to Burma! Dear God! I may have also beat Apollo Creed for the title. Help me!"

The border really seems as though they want everyone to be horrified on the way through. The regulations, the cold language, the protocol. Everything is designed to make you afraid that you've done something wrong. If they want everyone to be scared, they should turn the border into a Screamers haunted house.

"Okay, you want to cross? Well, all you have to do is go through this haunted house and answer security questions at the same time. If you get too scared, you can say chicken at any time and we'll let you out, but if you do that, you'll be rectally searched. Cool? Ahh! Man! You should have seen the look on your face. Okay, now head toward the dark room full of chainsaw noises and be prepared to answer the question, 'Are you bringing anything with you?'."

I completely understand that there have to be security checks at the border, but has being angry and rude ever stopped anyone from doing anything bad? Is that a deterrent?

"Well, I have NEVER been talked to this way. I am beyond offended. How can they talk to me like this? I'm a human being, dammit! I am so upset, I'm not even going to put my pipe bomb in the washroom anymore. I'll come back when these people decide to be a LITTLE NICER! Yeah, I'm talking to you. Thanks for making me feel bad."

Is that something that's going to happen? No! People who wouldn't do anything wrong are probably pushed to it by the way they are talked to at the border.

"I can't believe the way I was just talked to. I feel like taking a hostage I'm so mad!"

I figured that as a Canadian, crossing the border into America may be a problem, but going home I thought it would be easy. I thought it would be simple coming back into the country, but now I get asked a question that really bugs me.

"What's the purpose of your trip to Canada?"

"The purpose of my trip? I believe what you were trying to say is, 'Welcome back'?"

What do you mean what's the purpose of my trip? I'm from here! I can get an apartment right here at the border if I want. I can walk right into that hospital and say, "Yo, I'm one of yours! Do I have cancer? Sweet, thanks for checking! Peace!"

Swearing in Movies

Swearing in movies has all but dried up. I watched RoboCop the other day, and one thing that I noticed is that it had a ton of swearing in it. Makes sense, right? If you are selling cocaine in 1988, and a RoboCop busts in your door and shoots all of your henchman, some profanity will probably leave your mouth.

"Whoa! A cocksucking RoboCop is shooting everyone I know! What fucking year is this? I'm blown away!"

The other night I saw The Expendables 2, and although I thought it was really fun (other than the Maggie character who was completely useless), I was upset that there was no swearing. A man gets a knife spun-kicked into his heart. Does he swear? Nope. Doesn't even form the words with his mouth.

"Ah, boy. A knife spin-kick. Wow. That was a doozy. Well, I'm sure I only have ten minutes of life left. Cripes, that hurt! No, there are no words I'm holding back. I know that if I stubbed my toe at home I might swear, but a knife jump kicked into my heart by Jean-Claude Van Damme? I think I can leave the language out of this."

I know that everyone is trying to make their movies reach a wider audience so they can make more money, but in some cases it doesn't make sense. Certain movies need swearing.

Why does it need to get taken away completely? Why can't there still be grown ups out there who are allowed to watch grown up things? Why are action movies and horror movies becoming children’s movies, and yet porn, which is almost the easiest accessible thing by anyone in the world, is getting more and more violent as the years go on?

"You HAVE to take all of the 'fucks' out of this movie. I know it's about a wizard who throws grenades at babies, but seriously, ALL of these parents are going to swear when it happens?"

"Man, you guys are tough. Next you'll be telling me that I can't hit a woman with a dick-shaped car in 'Whore Gets Hit By Dick-Shaped Car 2: Test Drive'."

"No, no. Quite the opposite. We, at the studio, were wondering if you could make it a dick-shaped semi-truck? Test audiences agree that the bigger the vehicle that hits the woman, the bigger the erection."

Movies used to just be rated R. Straight R. R meant restricted. I remember being turned away from countless movies for that reason.

"Sorry, kid. You're not old enough to see this movie."

"Man, that sucks. Um, do you have a cigarette?"

"...Fifty cents and it's yours."

A friend and I wanted to see Payback when we were fourteen. You know the movie. Mel Gibson is screwed over by a friend for seventy thousand dollars? That movie is great. They wouldn't let us in, so what did we do? We bought tickets to see Waking Ned Divine and then walked into Payback. We also sat on top of the unfolded chairs when the ushers walked by so that we looked taller. Honestly, I don't know why there wasn't any issue when two fourteen-year-old boys asked to see Waking Ned Divine.

"Two for Waking Ned Divine, please."

"You look a little young to be wanting to see that movie. Are you sure you're not going to buy a ticket for it, then sneak into an R rated movie?"

"What?! Why can't I be interested in a movie about an old man who wins the lottery, dies of shock, and then the people in his town try to collect the money? Because I'm fourteen!? Are you serious? I'm very mature for my ag... ah! A boob!"

We wanted to see Payback more because we couldn't – because it was for adults. Now, all of these movies are for kids that age. Doesn't really matter what it is, there will be kids in your theatre.

"Are these kids in the right theatre? I mean, the 'Swear Truck' series usually has swearing in it. Especially 'Swear Truck 3: Tires, Trunks and Tits."

"Nope. Not this one. 'Swear Truck 4' doesn't have any swearing. They took it out to get that sweet kid money. Look! They even put a slide in the theatre. Remember how fun those were?"

"I'm reminded of a line from 'Swear Truck 2: It Ain't Over 'Til The Fat Lady Trucks' –

"Get these goddamn kids, off of my goddamn swear truck."

Most horror movies and action movies need swearing. NEED them. Doesn't make any sense for an axe-wielding maniac to be chasing a guy through the woods and have him not swear about it. Doesn't seem right that a young man who just joined the army, finds out his entire family was blown away by a notorious crime boss, doesn't throw in a couple of 'f's' when he's on a rampage.

"I use to swear at kids on Xbox LIVE, and then my parents were murdered. Well, it's time to clean up the language and clean up these streets."

I'm not saying every movie needs swearing. Toy Story doesn't gain anything by having swearing in it.

"Hey, Woody – Andy is going to college and is going to leave us forever!"

"Yeah, Buzz? Where the fuck were you an hour ago when the dog grabbed me and dragged me outside to bury me in the yard? Was Andy leaving a big deal when I was up to my goddamn eyes in mud! Shove it, Lightyear! SHOVE IT!"

But there are certain movies where it seems dumb to me not to have swearing. Ever watch a movie like Casino or Goodfellas on TV? How awful is it when they change the swearing?

"I just told Andy Stone that maybe you should disappear for awhile until the heat blows over. That's all."

"Listen here, you dumb mochafudger, you! You only exist out here because of me! Not your frog splash country clubs or your funnel cake TV shows! And what the film sundae are you doing on TV anyhow! You know I get calls from back home, they think you went bat style?!"

Just don't play the movie if you can't give it the justice it deserves! You can't play Titanic and Photoshop out the boat.

"Man, this movie Titanic about an invisible ship that hits an iceberg is a real tearjerker. I would also love to make love in a car that appears to be floating in the middle of the Atlantic. This movie rocks."

Who are they playing these cut-up movies for? Children? Were people upset that their kid couldn't watch Terminator 2?

"Come on! I wanted to take my three-year-old to this and you fill it with swearing? Isn't there a way we can have our cake and eat it too? Just make the movie without swearing so that children can see it, and adults can be made to feel stupid while watching it. Everyone wins!"

If you have kids, I get it. You want them to see things or take them to things that don't make you look like a horrible monster. But why should people who don't have kids be punished because there are kids in the world? Why! That doesn't seem right.

"Excuse me, everyone. I am a parent, albeit not a very good one, so instead of trying to watch what my child views, I would like to ask that all swearing be removed from movies that you enjoy. It takes a village, guys."

"Well, move to a damn village then! This is a city with adults! Sit down and shut up!"

Movies in the 70s, 80s, and even 90s had swearing in them. In a lot of cases it made the movies seem more real. It showed how many people would react in these situations. How did we go backwards? How was it that in the 70s people swore when getting stabbed in the chest, but forty years later we deemed that inappropriate?

"Ah, fuck! I was shot! Help!"

"Help you find some more words for your vocabulary? No problem. What about 'geez', 'gosh', even a 'gosh darn'. That should help you out."

"What? No. I'm bleeding!"

"My ears were bleeding listening to that vile speak of yours. We are both in pain. I won't die of course, and for you, that's yet to be determined."

Why does everything have to be PG? Can't some things still be adult? Maybe once a year there are movies that are made for actual adults. No more than that. Movies about possession, for God's sake, don't have swearing. Does that make any sense to anyone? A movie where a demon takes over somebody's child and that movie no longer has swearing in it?

"Honey! Our daughter is possessed by a demon! What should we fucking do?!"

"Watch our language for one. What is wrong with you? Just because she's possessed doesn't give you license to break the promise we made at the marriage retreat. No swearing in the house. Remember that? We made a pact!"

"...What?! Out daughter, dammit! Out daughter is..."

"Again with the swearing! Mercy sakes alive! I just don't believe it. I can deal with our daughter's head spinning, and her walking on the ceiling creepily in the middle of the night, but the language coming out of your mouth is driving me to drink."

"I'm the demon in your daughter. You'll never see this slu..."

"Don't you even finish that word, demon! Or I'll be washing your mouth out with soap."

"...Demon sorry."

If you don't like it, don't watch the movie! That's how things work. I can't watch gay BDSM porn and complain that it's too crass.

"Does that guy HAVE to put a lamp in that guy's ass? It's just ridiculous. Why can't they tone it down just a little so that a casual fan, such as myself, can watch in peace without worrying that a child may walk in and be exposed to something harsh? I mean, do they even CARE about children?"

Certain words are gone forever. No one will call a guy a faggot in a movie again. Never. Never again. No matter how many predators Jesse Ventura fights, will he be able to use it.

"You bunch of slack-jawed faggots!"

That is a fantastic line from the first Predator. It's coming from a roided-up Vietnam vet who, not knowing it yet, is about to fight a beast from space that rips your spine completely out of your body. No one will call someone a fairy again. Nobody gets called a cocksucker, motherfucker, none of it. When bullets are flying past your head, what would you say?

"Fudge! These woodland creatures with magic dust are shooting at me! Momma-intercourser!"

Nope. You'd say some of the words that are becoming extinct in such films.

I read an article that was referring to comedians cleaning up their sets.

"Nobody ever leaves a show and complains that there wasn't swearing in it."

Well, actually, I do. If something feels fake, ingenuine or faulty, I complain about it. When Stallone rips a guy's throat out and doesn't utter a curse, I find that to be all of the above.

Twitter @Nathanmacintosh

Gentrification. I don't know.

Gentrification. I had never really heard the word before I moved to NY. Well, I might have, but it wasn't said enough for me to really hang onto it. In NY, though, I've heard it a million times.

"I'll have a burger with cheese, lettuce, tomatoes and gentrification."

"Sir, you can't get a burger with gentrification."

"You can't get a white person to make it?"

"Oh. Yes, I can do that."

"That's what I said! Gentrification!"

It sort of sounded like 'gentrified' meant that an area that was once radioactive wasn't any longer.

"You can't go into Chernobyl. It hasn't been gentrified yet!"

"Well, gentrify it! We have to put a vegan dog food store there!"

"Vegan dog food? That's great! My dog gets an upset stomach when he eats meat."

"Then gentrify it, goddamn it! Gentrify!"

Anytime someone said it, they talked about it as if it were the greatest thing ever. So I really started to pay attention, and started to become angry about it.

From what I can gather from the conversations I've heard, gentrification is just the act of rich white people moving into an area that they were scared to go into before. Am I wrong about that? If so, tell me – but this is what I've been able to take from certain conversations.

"Yeah, it's not bad over there now. It's gentrified."

"Oh. What does that mean?"

"It means that people who look like me live there now. You know, the non-bad people."

"What? I don't know. That sounds horrible."

"Why? Are you scared of white people? Man, they're not the ones to be scared of! Unless you don't know any Beatles trivia. They get pretty upset about that. Quick! Is Paul actually dead? ...Took too long to answer! They're gonna hate you."

The definition of gentrification is when wealthier people move into or rent property in low-income places, which generally displaces the poorer, pre-gentrification residents who can't afford the higher rents and are forced to move. Now, when you read that, does that sound good to anyone? Why move into a neighborhood full of poor people and push them out? Why would you love their neighborhoods so much but dislike the people who live there?

"Man, this neighborhood is great. The feel, the vibe, the music and art that comes from it. The landscape. The history. The only problem is the dirty poor people who created all of those things."

"I know. It's a damn shame. I love sitting here, looking at these nice paintings and listening to this music, but these damn poor people are EVERYwhere."

"I know. Let's buy these buildings we like so much, and raise the rent to something only people we like to look at and talk to can afford!"

"That... is... brilliant. Let's do that right after this jazz band finishes. MAN, these poor people are talented!"

"Yeah, but not at fitting into the tiny world we have!"

"Yeah!"

<High Five>

So let me try to understand – a neighborhood can only be deemed good when rich white people live there? Really? Is the Caribbean no good? Giant parts of Africa, Asia and South America?

"Honey, I'd love to go on this trip to Ecuador, but it hasn't been gentrified yet. I mean… <whispering> those uncivilized people live there!"

"But honey, once we get there, we WILL be gentrifying it. We can show those people how to live!"

"I never thought of that. You're right! Do you think they have an Edwin Watts Golf shop down there?"

"They will soon!"

I'm sure it's only a matter of time before rich white people gentrify all of these places. Why stop at neighborhoods? We'll take trips to poor parts of the world and only stay on resorts. Why not move into the rest of it?

"You can go to Kingston, Jamaica now, white people. It's been gentrified! We shipped several Ivy League families down there and they've really been making use of the land. There is now a yoga studio in Bob Marley's old house. Also, now there is a reggae studio and beanery! Learn how to make the music you love by people who scare you while enjoying your favorite latte!"

It's been done before. By definition, technically, the British gentrified North America. Right? The natives were living off the land and the British came in and raised the rent to something they couldn't afford. Their lives. You can pay once, but that's it. Moved in where complete 'savages' were – people who 'didn't know how to use the land' – and made it habitable for future generations.

"Oh, yeah, it's really nice over there. Well, NOW it is. At first, there were these crazy people living there off the land. Really nice, cordial and welcoming, but man, they had to go! It's a good thing they were into blankets. Killed them all off!"

Is that not to some degree a form of racism and classism? A place is deemed worthy to live in because one group decided it was okay once THEY got there? That seems completely awful, but these people will talk about it as if it's the greatest thing to ever happen.

"No, no. It's a great place now because people who look, act, think and dress like me live there! Yeah, beforehand, when it was just poor people who didn't look like me, there was no WAY I was going to go there. But now I can walk down the street and say, "Hey, do you guys remember Nintendo?" and have people who look LIKE ME come out and say, 'Yes! Of course we do!' Ah, man. It's great. I will say, though, that these poor people who don't look like me really made the neighborhood look interesting. The destroyed buildings, the dirty streets. They really did a lot with a little. Anyway, they're gone now. Want to go pretend to understand how they live by 'slumming it' in a expensive bar that was built in an old meth lab?"

Rich white people are fascinated by these neighborhoods, but won't go to them until other rich white people build over the poor people who live there.

"Oh, yes, there is poverty here, but we really like the view! So we build condos directly on top of these poor skeazebags. I mean, if they had any money, they'd have enough sense to move out of the way, am I right? Anyways, the foundation of a lot of these buildings is pretty weak since they literally sit on under-privileged kids and families. I keep telling the contractors, 'Don't build directly ON them, their bones are disgustingly weak from all the years of terrible, cheap food. But do they listen to me? Of course not. Don't lean on that wall. It's made entirely out of poor seven year olds. Nice, though, huh?"

Gentrification is a pretty slick word as well. A lot of times it's not just poor neighborhoods that are gentrified, it's predominately black neighborhoods. Rich white people are horrified to live around poor black people.  Remember the look of horror on the lawyers face right before the T-rex ate him in Jurassic Park? Same thing.
"Oh no! Poor AND black! I heard one of them ate a guys face! Ahhhhh!"
So, they will buy their neighborhoods for cheap and push them out. You can't do that and call it what it actually is.

"I have an idea for this process. 'We don't like poor black people on many levels. One, we don't know how to live with them. Two, we are completely horrified of them in every way. Three, they do not look like us'."

"I agree with you one hundred percent, but we can't put that on a sign. That is just too long to say."

"Okay, okay. How about, 'Get Out Poor Darkies'?

"Listen, you know I love it, but I don't think the public will respond to it so well."

"All right, well I'll come up with a word. You sure you don't want to use poor darkie? What about 'Not-Enough-Money-Colored-People'?

"Haha, man, you're killing me, but no. Ah, Jesus. 'Not-Enough-Money-Colored-People'. Hilarious. Want to get a Jamba Juice?"

One thing that's gross to me about it – is that rich white people have enough. You've got it! You need these neighborhoods? It'd be the same as if the first class citizens on the Titanic just decided to go down to the third class.

"Oh, my. Look at it down here! It's rather intriguing. My boy, give me four hundred dollars to stay or get out."

"Get out!? Where would I go? I'm not allowed up any stair case!"

"Well, you are allowed out that window. Don't touch it with your dirty destitute hands when you dive through it, though. I want to put my hat near it."

Most of the neighborhoods that become gentrified are completely torn apart! A lot of poor people don't even want to live there, but rich white people will come in and say how great it is.

"Look. It feels homey, right?"

"I don't know. It looks like old news footage of war torn Kosovo. That building has three walls, and that appears to be a stack of old abandoned cars."

"I know! Homey, right? And that's not just any stack of old abandoned cars. That's my new gluten-free shop!"

"Gluten-free what?"

"Gluten-free everything! Gluten-free-gluten even!"

I love as well, that when a neighborhood becomes gentrified, rich white kids will live there and try to act as if they are poor.

"I've had three floors in a house, a giant backyard, everything I ever wanted, a mom and dad my whole life. I hate it! I wonder what it's like to live in a place that even roaches throw up in? I'll try it, and if someone starts talking about being poor, I'll be able to relate by telling him or her that once, for Christmas, all I got was a Kia Sportage. What an awful Christmas."

What is a rich white person’s fascination with being poor? Why the hell must you mock people who have to live through it by dipping your toe in and saying you that you know something about it? Rich white people want to try and pretend that they also have it rough. They'll gentrify a neighborhood, only hang out with other rich white people in this neighborhood, and tell stories about how tough the area used to be.

"Guys, you have NO idea how bad this place used to be before we got here. I mean, for instance, these bicycles that are hanging from the walls of this bar? They were left on the streets by poor ethnic people! Yeah, I know. Sometimes, if you listen closely, you can hear them peddling, having a good time, having fun despite their surroundings, which for some reason when you have money is impossible to do. Oh, and this bar? It used to be a building where poor ethnic people LIVED! Yeah, right here! Where you are sitting, six years ago, could have been a spot where a poor person stood. Isn't that gross? I know. Let's order the cheapest beers and act as if we have it as hard as he did."

If you, as a rich white kid, want to live in one of these places because it's cheap, don't act as if you have it hard. If other people like you are going to buy this property, and raise the rent to something that poor people can't afford so they leave, don't then try to act like those poor people! Poor is not just a financial situation. It's a state of mind. Don't try to dress, talk and have the same demeanor. Don't have it all and act as if you don't. Don't be ninety-eight pounds ironically around people who are that weight because they have no choice, and walk through their neighborhood pretending to have culture.

"Hey, man! You're starving, too? Right on."

"Yeah, I don't have any money."

"Oh. Not me, man. My family has lots of it. I'm just trying to fit in with you. So seriously, when are you calling your parents to get a few bucks?"

"...My parents don't have any money."

"Ah... well, yeah, me too!"

Twitter- @nathanmacintosh