Headlines across the internet are screaming about a chimpanzee named Travis that went bananas and mauled a family friend. I first noticed the story when I flipped past MSNBC, which had apparently had enough of reporting the terrible news from Wall Street ("DOW in Bottomless Free Fall!" "Automakers Beg for $20 Billion More!" "New Investment Scammer Revealed!") today and turned to an in-depth investigation of the case of the crazy chimp.

Travis was apparently treated like a member of the family for over a decade, even joining the family at the dinner table. (Which makes the owner's reported screams of "Just shoot him!" make me wonder how she treats her real children.) Every incident report about the situation includes something similar to "he appeared in advertisements for Coca-Cola." I'm sure that the suits at Coke never considered their association with a sociopathic chimp when they were casting for the part of star Coke-swilling monkey: "Kill Humans! Drink Coke! Ahhhhhh!"

Now, I'm no fan of the primate. ("They're like little, furry people," supporters say, and that's exactly why I hate them.) But, I don't really think this is that big a story, people. It just seems to me like we're looking for something other than the now-commonplace bad economic news. So we've turned to "Monkey Mauls Man" as escapist fantasy.

I mean, who didn't see this coming? Animals snap all the time. (If it were a human, we'd say they "went postal" or whatever phrase is en vogue these days.) We've all seen Planet of the Apes, Monkey Shines, and The Wizard of Oz. We've all read The Monkey's Paw, The Jungle Book, and Curious George. We're all familiar with >shudder< Gleek.

They may seem friendly, start out as "helpers," but soon they're going through the garbage, cooking methamphetamine over your stove, and beating the hell out of your loved ones. Monkeys are bad news. Always have been, always will be. Stay away, people, stay away. Let global warming do it's job.

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It appears that the United States government will soon pass a bill worth $790 billion to stimulate the economy. That's a lot of money. A whole lot of money. Especially when you take into account that as recently as 4 months ago, our government passed a bailout bill giving away an additional $700 billion which has proven to be a political and economic nightmare. (Don't worry. I'm sure they got it right this time. >derisive snort<)

Taken together, $1.5 trillion is more than the GDP of all but the 13 wealthiest countries in the world. That means that in the span of half the year, the United States government has given away more money than 94% of the world is capable of producing in a single year of sustained industry. That's more than the combined 2007 revenue of the top 6 Forbes 500 companies. (Or, rather amusingly, approximately the estimated value of Forbes' largest fictional company on record, CHOAM, a galaxy-wide mega-corporation that controlled the spice in Dune.) That's $250 for every person on the planet!

It takes Coca-Cola 100 days to serve 1.5 trillion servings globally. It would take a forest of 56 billion oak trees to produce 1.5 trillion leaves. There are only 100 billion stars in our galaxy.

These numbers are so large that they defy comprehension; there are simply no comparable values that people can relate to. I'm no economist, but that sounds fucking crazy.

I could go on, but I suspect that the only people less qualified than me to talk about money management are currently my "representatives" in the United States Congress.

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New York Governor David Paterson has proposed an 18% "obesity tax" on soft drink sales in New York state. The American Beverage Association objects ('natch), claiming that this tax will put the squeeze on the middle class. ("In an economy like this, the last thing we should do is raise taxes on hardworking families." -ameribev.org )

Let's say I consume a single 2-liter Coca-Cola every 2 days. That's 180 2-liters per year. (Don't judge me.) At $1.50 per 2-liter, that's $270 I spend on Coke per year. I already pay 7% sales tax for Coke, meaning that $270 of Coke costs me $288.90. If I were forced to pay an additional 18% tax on top of that, those 180 Cokes cost $337.50, a nearly $50 increase over the course of a year. (That's a lot more than I spend on comic books these days.)

Even in these hardscrabble times, that's not really a lot of money. And I drink a LOT of Coke. (Don't judge me.) How many families in New York consume as much soft drink per person as I do? Turns out that according to the National Soft Drink Association, the national average is somewhere near 105 2-liters per American per year. For the average New Yorker (at, say 1700 Broadway in Manhattan, the home of DC Comics) paying a sales tax of 8.375% on that same $1.50 Coke, they'll be paying $199.04 instead of $170.69, an annual difference of about $30.

Needless to say, ABA, I don't think this will break the back of New Yorkers. And the number is so low, that it is unlikely to really discourage that many obese middle class buyers. (Though I do think of my dad, who won't buy any 2-liter soft drink at a cost greater than $1.00, because "the price was never that high when I was a kid!")

But don't take this article as me supporting the government involving itself in my buying habits on the grounds that it knows better than I do what's good for me. I'm the guy that opposes seat belt laws, remember? If I want to get too fat from sipping sugary beverages to be thrown to my death from my car in an accident, I think that's my right!. And I'll let the ABA use that argument if they think it will help them.

Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go to work saving my life by pouring another Coke.

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While performing some routine maintenance on Wriphe.com last week, I counted that in the past 60 days my email address had received 17,776 junk emails. That's an average of 8,888 per month, more than 296 per day, more than 12 per hour, or more than 1 spam email every five minutes.

That made me a little curious, so I did some research. In the same 5 minute span between my spam emails, 24 Americans died, 40 Americans were born, 62 Americans were in car accidents, the average American heart beat 350 times, the Earth moved 5,584 miles around the Sun, Americans consumed 1,045,624 servings of Coca-Cola, and the United States Federal Government spent approximately $25,655,864 (before any bailouts).

Now, every time I receive a spam email, I have the urge to spend $25 on a glass of Coke.

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The Dark Knight opens next week, and not a minute too soon. The light at the end of the tunnel is finally visible: in the near future, I'll no longer be bombarded by The Dark Knight advertising. Maybe not tomorrow, and maybe not next week, but soon. Mercifully soon.

No, I will not be watching the movie. (In case you are one of the 6 people who read this blog and were somehow unaware: Batman Begins sucked. I will be giving no more money to Christopher Nolan.) Yet I have to wonder how all this advertising and branded product placement (peanut butter cups, microwave popcorn, breakfast cereal, pizza, race cars, cable television, etc.) is supposed to encourage my desire. I remember that Batman advertising was a hysteria back in the late-80s/early-90s as well. But even then: did commercials of Alfred drinking Diet Coke actually help sales of either product?

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to head over to eBay to grab a pair of those limited edition Nike Marty McFly Hyperdunks.

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Just in time for the July release of the latest sure-to-be-schlock Batman movie, The Dark Knight, Batman has killed again. But it wasn't some policeman or stunt driver this time. This past Saturday, the Batman: The Ride roller coaster at Six Flags Over Georgia decapitated a 17-year old boy.

Sure, the boy had jumped some fences to enter an unauthorized area around the coaster, but isn't that what Batman would do? The boy was only trying to protect his property, after all, and Batman is all about defending one's territory and goods. And what was the boy in search of? That's right: his cap, which as we all know is the key to any teenaged Southern boy's identity.

Six Flags, you've done it again. Like every great super villain, you attack your heroic nemesis where it hurts the most: their reputation. Last year you rip the feet off of a girl on a Superman: Tower of Power ride, this year, you tear the head off a boy with a Batman ride. (This is actually the second reported fatality for this ride. In 2002, it killed a ride operator.) And these aren't the only instances. Six Flags Darien Lake's Superman: Ride of Steel nearly killed a rider in 1999, a manslaughter successfully perpetrated five years later by the identical ride at another park when Superman: Ride of Steel at Six Flag New England killed a rider in 2004.

So be careful out there, people. If a dancing centenarian or screaming Asian arrives on your doorstep with a can of Coke offering a Six Flags admission discount, it's probably a trap.

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Remember last month when I mentioned that I consumed a considerable amount of Coca-Cola? Well, I don't. (I don't remember it, that is. I still do drink a lot of Coke.)

Perusing the latest Reader's Digest, I was stunned to learn that a researcher for the University of Alabama at Birmingham has completed studies that indicate that excessive consumption of sugary soda beverages may lead to the development of Alzheimer's Disease later in life. Uh-oh. Of course, this caused me to panic.

A couple of minutes later when I had forgotten why I was panicking, I looked more deeply into the details of this study on my friend The Internet. Surprisingly, Reader's Digest had given me only part of the story. (Who would have guessed?) I discovered that the studied mice were from stock bred to develop Alzheimer's-like symptoms, and the announcement was made based on the soda-swilling meese's slightly increased "brain plaque" deposits, which may be an Alzheimer's indicator. But what really settled me down was that it turns out that this frightening study used only 8 mice in the control group and 7 mice in the experiment for a grand total of 15 mice in all! Talk about your small sample size. That's like finding a single test audience that enjoyed Catwoman before advertising the movie as a "Summer Blockbuster!"

On a semi-related note, is it just me, or are Reader's Digest "It Pays To Enrich Your Word Power" vocabulary words getting easier?

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Last month, I received a signed book from a friend's employer, one of the world's foremost authorities on Superhero Mego figures. This month, I'm working for another friend's employer, one of the world's foremost authorities on Coca-Cola bottles.

This week's moral is "learn more about something than anyone else, and someday maybe you, too, can meet me." (Sorry, no autographs.)

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The New World of Coca-Cola® is set to open in Atlanta on Thursday. My mother is very excited about the opportunity to pay $15 to enter a glorified gift shop, but I am considerably more skeptical. Note the following entertainment possibilities that Coke advertises on their website:

• Thrilling 4-D Theater
• World's largest collection of Coke memorabilia
• Fully functioning bottling line that produces commemorative 8-ounce bottles of Coca­Cola®
• Tasting experience with over 70 different products to sample
• Pop Culture Gallery featuring works by artists such as Andy Warhol, Norman Rockwell, and Steve Penley
• World-famous Coca­Cola® Polar Bear
• And so much more!

So, the place is a museum where you can taste and buy Coke products, meet its advertising icons, buy its advertising icons, and then..., um, "so much more," whatever that may be. Wheee! I sure hope that they don't spray Coke on you inside the 4D theater. (There can be too much of a good thing, you know.)

I mean, didn't Coke learn a long time ago to keep the words "New" and "Coke" as far away from each other as possible? I think if you blindfold me, I might not be able to tell the difference from the original (and in all likelihood superior) World of Coca-Cola®. And I'm certainly not interested in paying $15 (plus an additional $10 for the privilege of parking in the adjoining Pemberton Place® Parking Deck) for more Coca-Cola® advertising than I can see during 9 hours of televised football. This is not a wave that I'm in any hurry to catch.

Now if you'll excuse me, I've worked up a thirst.

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So, in addition to dog sitting, house sitting, attending weddings, applying for jobs and working on graphic and web design jobs, I've also been constructing a dollhouse. I like to stay busy.

The box proudly proclaims this kit to be from the "Mansions in Minutes" series. And sure enough, I completed it in minutes. Nearly 1,000 of them spread over three weeks of waiting for glue and paint to dry. Who says there's no truth in advertising?

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