Category archive: Meanwhile On The Internet

Major Lazer, MO, & DJ Snake? They Bring Happiness With “Lean On”

I love EDM. Seriously.

So, yeah, this video honestly makes me want to mystically travel the world and immerse myself into the beauty of other cultures. The song, no matter how simplistic and lyrically uncomplicated it is, makes me happy. It makes me want to dance, and I’m a guy that doesn’t dance—at all. Fortunately, neither can MO, but she doesn’t care. None of them do. Maybe I shouldn’t.




Hell, I can’t even write and blog on a regular basis, but uplifting music like this makes life a little easier to bear. For some reason, it reminds me about the things I have instead of the admittedly trivial things that I don’t. I have my partner in life to lean on, and that is what counts. Now, I sit here and watch the video, silently admiring how MO, the Major Lazer crew, and their friends in India have a good time.


I love the colors. I love the culture. I love the entire experience.


It makes me dream, and it takes my imagination back to where it was when I was a child. I could think of anything, and now that I feel empowered, maybe I’ll tackle a few lasting obstacles in my novels.

To me, in a society filled with negativity, the little things like this reassure the real depth of humanity. We have a universal language no matter our locale on the globe. A good time is a good time, and fun is fun, no matter where you are.


Be happy, my friends. We all need someone to lean on. Why not look to each other?



Lincoln Is Back?



What is the first thing that comes to mind when someone mentions the word “Lincoln”?

A city in Nebraska? No.

A famous US President that was shot and killed by some guy with the last name Booth? Likely.

In reflection, it’s a truly sad and tragic ending to what was one of the greatest Presidents in history, but it’s his history that reminds us of our progress and unity. Lincoln took the reigns at a time when the country literally split itself in half, nearly damning itself from existence over a set of key issues that seem trivial and outrageous today, but alas, times change.

People grow and move on. Society molds itself through this force of change, and with it, comes our hearts.

Abraham Lincoln will never be forgotten, though he’d likely be spotted rolling around in his grave if he took a look at his namesake automotive brand. Once seen as the staple of American luxury and performance, the Lincoln branch of the Ford Motor Company excelled in the production of high-end vehicles that were known to be monumentally and radically different from their competition. The K-series of the the 1930s pushed the brand forward into the niche playing field of wealth and overkill, but proof was found in the success of the Zephyr and its spawn, the famous Continental. It quickly became the most expensive vehicle produced in the United States, where it held this title with an honor of grace and wrought poise.

To me, the Continental Mark II of the late 1950s stands as one of the most beautifully designed American cars of all time.

bold ride continental markii

Beauty. Pure beauty, but as with any other auto company in the home of the brave, Lincoln soon found itself circling the drain of abyss. Stifled by the malaise-era, the brand lost its flair, and the flagship Continental lost its suicide doors, artsy design protocol, and craftsmanship.

It turned into a bloated and absolutely pathetic Ford Crown Victoria with a body-kit. As the Continental’s place was succeeded by the Town Car (which began as a version of the Continental), it wore away into this monstrosity, commonly spotted collecting dust in your grandmother’s garage:


WTF. What is that thing? How the hell does something like that make it past conceptual form? How did the design team not get fired when they  presented the drawings?

Either way, it happened, and Lincoln nearly saw its death because of it. They tried to recover in the early 2000s with the admittedly somewhat-cool Lincoln LS, with its rear-wheel-drive and tiny V8 engine, but they canned that car and replaced it with more jazzed-up mainstream Fords with fancy paint.

The current MKS, Z, X, T, C, and whatever the hell else they’ve come up with are better left plummeting from a cargo plane into the ocean.


And then, as the resurgence of the American Automotive Consortium continues, we were given this:

2016 continental 1

2016 continental 2

2016 continental 3

2016 continental 4

2016 continental 5

2016 continental 6


Are you still thinking about the elderly souls solemnly puttering around American highways and residential roads–usually 10 to 20mph below the speed limit in their Town Cars?


Just look at it. Look!

The LED flanking on the headlamps, the backlit Lincoln emblem, the detail work of the grille’s emboss, the electronically-tinted sunroof, the turbine wheels that look CNC-chiseled.

Details. The original versions were all about the details, and my god, have they nailed it once again.

The interior follows the same suit:

2016 continental 13

2016 continental 10

2016 continental 11

2016 continental 14

2016 continental 16

The chrome accenting on the dashboard looks like it was hand polished. The fold out tray for rear passengers looks like something out of a Star Trek movie. The form-fitting seats seem to be personally beckoning for my hind parts to grace their cushions. It looks so comfortable in there. It looks so outrageously gorgeous that I find it hard to praise it enough.

Who needs a Bentley when you can have a Lincoln? Okay, I won’t go TOO far, but you see where this is headed.

This is the first time in decades that we’ve seen a dashingly different and paradigm-shifting concept from Lincoln. Though this vehicle is still only a 90% kind of pre-production concept, I hope that the majority of this design will make it through the production ringer and bean counters.

But alas, there are letdowns:
While I hoped for a RWD, Coyote V8-powered luxury saloon, judging from the information that I’ve gathered, it appears to still be based upon one of the Ford’s ubiquitous FWD platforms (the CD4 to be specific). It’s safe to assume that the EcoBoost V6 engines will persist, too. Hell, they even put one of these puffed-up Taurus motors in the damn Ford GT. Hopefully, and I say that with the utmost sincerity that I can muster, they can get the dynamic aspect up to par.

The other gripe might be the price. As stated earlier in the back story of Lincoln and the Continental, in its prime during the late 1950s, it was the most expensive car produced in the United States. Though I don’t think it’ll take that crown this time around, I do hope that this flagship has a price point that is within reach of the people that can potentially pull the brand out of the sewer. If that proves difficult, Ford and Lincoln engineers should DEFINITELY get the ball rolling with the widespread incorporation of this design schema into the rest of their rather lackluster lineup.

Oh, and where the hell are the rear suicide doors!?! COME ON!

If this is the car that was created to save Lincoln, shall we say godspeed, lads?



(all images courtesy of Ford Motor Company)

“The Brown Wedding” by James O. Thach

Yes, this must be shared. The enormous potential of sugar-free gummi bears to be used a weapon of mass toilet destruction holds true. Here, on the review of Haribo’s version of these monsters, I found this “top rated review.” Though I did not write this, I feel as if it would be a crime against humanity to not share the author’s incredible story:


The Brown Wedding


It’s been a rough couple of years for my family. There have been a few land disputes, some nasty feuds, several imprisonments and a beheading. But perhaps our most celebrated misfortune was what has come to be known as The Brown Wedding.

I don’t want to bore you with all the details, but essentially my cousin Robb was betrothed to the daughter of a family rival. Then, against all our counsel, he eloped with another woman. Classic Robb.

Anyway, you can imagine our surprise when we found ourselves invited to the wedding of the jilted bride. Perhaps it should have been a red flag. But we Starks love a free meal, so off we went.

They threw it in their castle. After a tense exchange between Robb and the father of the bride, the ceremony was performed, and we all sat down for the feast. It was bench seating. The food was simple fare–beans, broccoli, and bran muffins. Again, a warning sign, but we were caught up in the merriment and the wine.

Dessert arrived. The waiters uncovered tureens filled with colorful piles of gummy bears–a welcomed note of levity. The fifes played a jig, and we all dug in. They were delightful–fruity and delicious.

Twenty minutes later, the father of the bride proposed a toast. “To the Starks,” he said. “May all your misfortunes be behind you.”

Around this time, I began to feel uncomfortable rumblings down below, and looked about for a restroom. As my eyes scanned the hall, I noticed that the bride’s family weren’t eating the gummy bears. A waiter was refilling the tureen next to me. I snuck a glance at the bag–Haribo Sugar Free Gummy Bears. My blood ran cold.

I rose to shout a warning to my family, but the alarm came from my backside–a three-note trumpet blast that ended badly. I felt a fullness in the back of my pants. A thousand shocked eyes turned to me. And then the room erupted in a cacophony of flatulence–and worse. Far worse.

How can I describe it? The sights, the sounds, the smells. And the pain–like a grappling hook dragged backward through my bowels.

I watched in horror as, one by one, my family doubled over, succumbing to the ceaseless waves of stabbing pain. Some were clutching their bellies, others lay writhing on the floor, or stumbling in circles, emitting auburn plumes of effluvium. The walls were soon spattered with our suffering.

The father of the bride watched it all with intent eyes, delighted by the macabre spectacle.

I saw Robb–brave Robb–fall victim to the gastronomic assault. Not even his pregnant wife was spared. Monstrous.

Soon only our matriarch was left standing, teetering as she made a final plea for mercy. But too late. She fell to her knees and erupted, and what came out of her haunts me to this day.

So hear me, and hear me well. I swear vengeance on them, their house and their kin. I will hunt them to the last of their line, from Winterfell to Casterly Rock. And if I do not live to see their castle burn to the ground, I will at least light the match. For, by the gods, someone needs to light a match in that place.


–James O. Thach.

Christopher Nolan’s “Interstellar” blockbuster: Win or fail?



I’ve taken the past few days to let my screening of Interstellar sink in for an in-depth analysis. While the full review will be up later, I will provide you with this Meanwhile on the Internet quick synopsis of one of the movie’s many conundrums:

(courtesy of Facebook user Luke Houser)

Interstellar summary


Yes. Please make sure to read that twice, because if any of that makes sense, it’ll help you out later.

Stay tuned as I dive further into the black hole (pun intended) of mind-blowing space opera that is Interstellar.