We're going to Defcon 1, people; so buckle the fuck up!

(Please note this post was written on May 19, 2004)

Wooo! It's Core-Mark day here at the old Rolf store; which means endless pricing of crap. Okay, I should take this oppurtunity to address why all the prices end in nine. I know a lot of you are just dying to hear this information. Oh, so maybe you aren't; who cares? You're still going to hear it anyway. And git yer damn pointer away from the close button!!! I'm giving you knowledge! Maaaaad science! I'm droppin' old-school philosophy on yo punk-ass!

Yeah... Um, sorry, the leprechaun in my head was Riverdancing again. Stupid leprechaun.

There are two reasons why all prices end in nine. The first one is the one most people are able figure out for themselves; namely that $1.99 looks better than $2.00. Or $59.99 looks better than $60.00. It's just one of those low-level mindfucks to make customers believe they're getting a better deal than they're really getting. Hell, I knew about this back when I was eight. The second reason isn't as obvious; and that's because it has to do with us heathen bastards behind the counter. Back when all the prices were nicely rounded off, the management noticed that us cashiers (venomous, back-stabbing curs of Satan that we are) were taking the money from clean transactions and pocketing it. By a clean transaction, I mean one that doesn't involve making change. So, somebody would come up with a one dollar item, give us the money, and then we'd conveniently forget to ring it into the till. The noble and pure-hearted managers were taken aback by the gravity of the sins we had commited, and took it upon themselves to bring us back to the straight and narrow. Thus, every price from that point on would end in nine, forcing us to make change on every transaction, which meant we would have to ring it into the till.

Verily, the kind and loving executives had won this battle in the War Against Shrinkage. Yep, that's what stores call their losses. Shrinkage. Takes on a whole new meaning after Seinfeld, right?

"So, how's it going, Bob?"
"Oh man, you wouldn't believe the amount of shrinkage I've got!"
"Tough break, Bob. I could go over your resources if you want."
"Nah, I think I got a good handle on 'em."
"Cool. Wanna fuck each other up the ass?"
"All right!"
Help me! The subtext has become the text!

Ahem. The boss gets a convenience store magazine every month with his orders from Core-Mark, and if he hasn't taken it home by the time I get there I usually give it a quick read-through. Although most of it is run-of-the-mill business crap (Improve Your Customer Service! Stock More Stuff! Maximize Your Profits!) every now and then you run across something interesting. This month there's a three page advertisement for du Maurier cigarettes. First of all, cigarette companies haven't been allowed to advertise in Canada since like 1860 so I was a bit taken aback by this. Second of all, du Maurier is pretty much the top-selling brand in the country and stores would stock it anyway, so what's the point? And third; well, I'll let the copy speak for itself.

"Some cigarette packaging may look alike but the smoking experience tells a different story. du Maurier delivers on exceptionally smooth and classic taste that your customers cannot find in any other brands of cigarettes. Here is why: du Maurier has always offered an exclusive combination of filters and tobacco brands. If it's not a du Maurier brand, it's not a du Maurier product and it's not du Maurier quality. IT IS that simple. Now YOU know the difference! Only the du Maurier name guarantees the du Maurier quality."

Which is funny, because I thought the du Maurier name guarantees trach rings, lung cancer, and general hacking death. Sheesh, I should forward this to Canada's anti-tobacco lobby, or Adbusters at least; they'd have a bloody field day with this shit. I WOULD do it, I should say, if I didn't smoke more than London's chimneys myself. I'll end my discussion on the magazine by saying it has probably the silliest example of corporate lingo I've ever heard. In one article it actually describes the act of buying a chocolate bar as an "eat occasion". An eat occasion?! What the hell? What's next, when they go to the can are they going to say they're "performing a urinary evacuation"?

Ooh, it seems like the Calgary Flames are going to the Stanley Cup finals. Since I'm not a fan I usually have a marginal interest at best in hockey, but it's hard not to get swept up in the boundless enthusiasm that's flying all over the place. Frankly, after the dark days the entire country had last summer, it's nice to see people excited for a change. Getting the Cup back in Canada, even if it's in Alberta (as the assholes say), will go a long way in improving our national mood. 'Cause if cynicism were monkeys, we'd need a hell of a lot of bananas right now.

On the homefront, things are stable. I gave my room a massive clean yesterday, so it's finally hospitable again, although my cat was kind of put off by the whole thing. But seeing as she's the damn reason why I had to sweep up anyway, what with the cat hair and all, I really didn't give a shit. I gave her a toss out the door and let the ducks have their fun with her. After that was done I started up a new game of Prince of Persia: Sands of Time. Even though it's been said many times before, I must say it again. This is one of the best games ever made. If you believe that video games have to ability to evolve beyond a spectacular waste of time into something more akin to art, you owe it to yourself to buy this game. Show the gaming cartel that you want to see more games like this and that you've had enough with the derivative unplayable crap that's flooding the market. And pick up Beyond Good & Evil while you're at it. It's short, but it's most definitely sweet.

Joel's Non Sequitur of the Day:

Jeroboam: I've been collecting silver bullion lately.
Joel: Yeah, so what? I've got a stuffed Batman doll hanging on my wall!