"Why Jack White Is Better Than Daytona Beach, Florida"

This argument will be based solely on personal experience. Why not?

In one corner, you have a pasty white man from Detroit who took his wife's name after they married. A former upholsterer turned blues rocker whose stripped-down, bare bones approach to twenty-first century rock made me feel like I was a pimply teenager again. Inspirational, vibrant, impressive and cool. And in the other corner you have the cyst on the hemorrhoid that is Florida.

Jack White plays 600 instruments, belts out his own lyrics and refuses to talk to the press like so many mascara rock stars. He lets his music do the talking.

Every year on the east coast of Florida, eight million (no exaggeration) tourists descend on the parking lot once known as Daytona Beach. Why wouldn't they? There is so much to choose from. Bike Week is always fun. Thousands of meth heads on motorcycles drag three metric tons of body odor and sun-bleached leather to line the streets of the small town for seven days of drinking, driving, and date rape. Of course, there's always the Great Race known as The Daytona 500. It’s the premier event of the NASCAR season. Auto racing is the only activity in America that dictates that anyone who can sustain 130 degree temperatures in a sitting position while driving in a circle is an athlete. Have fun is the sun sucking gas fumes and tire treads for five hours, than wait in traffic on I-95 for three days to get home.

The White Stripes shook up the music world along with a half dozen roots rock bands that did everything they could to get attention away from Britney and Christina. That's almost cultural heroism in my book.

You can't talk Daytona without discussing the World's Most Famous Beach. Now you have to pay for it, of course. Twenty miles of tire treads and fat hairy tourists in Speedos with more back hair than grains of sand on the Earth itself. It’s an appetizing treat when you're digging sand out of your swimsuit to eat an overpriced greasy hot dog flavored with nacho cheese, and of course, sand.

The water is beautiful. No question. Although the Gulf of Mexico is prettier. Don't tell Daytona that. This is the beach of the people. Blaring stereos from oversized trucks; belching a series of Chevy and Ford commercials that might be music but you're not sure. Kids running in and out of traffic, college jocks playing Frisbee over your head and, most importantly, the sun. Hot, remorseless UV rays singed my back every week of my formative years. I spent countless hours peeling dead, flaky skin from my back, because apparently sunscreen wasn't invented until I graduated in 1990. I turned my nose up to shady parks and pools because I got to go to Daytona and have all my friends slap my aching sunburned back every Monday at school Ha! I got a tan! Yay!

I've seen Jack White perform in concert three times. Each show was insanely good. I was taken out of the humdrum of my normal life and was a carefree boy again; enjoying music the way I used to, with no pretense or analysis. Just fun.

"Why Ben Stiller Is Worse Than The Spanish-American War"

It is a difficult comparison to make. Loss of human life and America's giant imperialistic leap forward versus a decade of sub-par crotch comedy. I am sure I can make a case that the movies of Ben Stiller have longer lasting and profoundly stupider ramifications than that little war between the Civil War and World War I that everyone forgets about.

Case one: Although we violently replaced Spain as the long distance yoke holders, America acquired Guam, Puerto Rico, Cuba and the Philippines. The latter fought us to the death, Cuba's had half a century to foster a tobacco-scented hatred for us and Puerto Rico has no vote in our Congress. But, hey, we have Guam. And they vote and stuff, right? Besides we showed the world that we were out to eat it one sweaty island nation at a time.

But Ben Stiller movies aren't just awful; they are all awful in the same way. Can anyone honestly tell me that the character he plays in There's Something About Mary is any different than Meet The Parents, Along Came Polly and Duplex? Take one whiny, simple idiot, add one hot blonde, diarrhea, a dog, six toilets, any number of ejaculates and it’s essentially the same movie every eighteen months.

(Wait, I get it! Gaylord Focker! Oh my God, that's Hollywood gold.)

Bad movies make our culture dumber and more likely to get attacked by extremists and those with adult tastes. Stiller puts us in danger!

Teddy Roosevelt's rise to prominence is a direct result of his involvement in the war with Spain in 1898. Sure, he thought the world needed a swift kick in the ass with an American boot, but he also was a naturalist. He secured thousands of acres of land for national parks. Don't forget: Roosevelt also cleaned up the food packing industry, indirectly hindering the diarrhea Ben Stiller loves so dearly.

What's annoying about Hollywood millionaire Ben Stiller is that I liked some of his work. His old sketch show was good, his roles in Tenenbaums and some MTV bits I've seen were pretty good. So he has some talent and a comedic eye. Why doesn't he write a little of that into one of these festering dumps he calls feature films? I think I may come down with severe intestinal cramps if one more fan tells me to "just shut off your brain and enjoy it. It's just stupid fun." That's okay one or two times. But EVERY damn time? Does every attempt at comedy have to be so juvenile that no one can walk into a theater with a high school education and enjoy it? I'm afraid there is no one left that can write a non-embarrassing comedy for adults. The terrorists have won.

It's said that the Spanish American War helped heal some wounds still stinging from the Civil War. Maybe that's true. There's nothing like a war to get you over hating someone because of a war.

I'm no math major but Ben Stiller films have made over 500 billion dollars. That is good money that could have been put to use cleaning up our streets, education, rebuilding New Orleans, investing in solar and wind power and , most importantly, not encouraging the actor himself to make more crappy movies. Aren't those dollars in the wrong pockets? I am sure that has helped drive a wedge between the classes in the last ten years. That and the Bush presidency…but Stiller was a conspirator!

I implore you, America. Stop encouraging the creation of these dumbass films. If not for our culture or the children or the spirit of this once great nation, than to just shut me up about how much I hate this douchebag's movies.

I Did Not Write Most Of This

Reading this excerpt was as if the gravity that keeps me earthbound relented 50%. Just enough to keep me attached to North America, but enough relief that all the muscles in my body relaxed simultaneously. I said aloud: "Thank you.”

You Don't Have to Be Famous
How to Write Your Life Story
by Steve Zousmer

The consequences of unmarketability are so obvious, they are not even worthy of Economics 101, yet we who write are fragile dreamers and deniers of reality, always clinging to hopes of rainbows and pots of gold and a taste of public adulation. But we have to let go of this fantasy; it will only get in the way.

Right now, you may be nodding in reluctant agreement, but a little voice inside you is protesting, “Okay, I’ll play this game and pretend to accept that I’m unmarketable. But I’ll show ’em. I’ll be the exception. My book will be so special, it’ll be the one that breaks through the marketability barrier.”

But you’re kidding yourself, and I’m not going to encourage you to keep dreaming because the serious point here is that living with this illusion is not harmless. You are embracing the wrong ambition. It will confuse your motivation, point you in wrong directions, influence every sentence you write, and drastically reduce your chances of finishing. You’ll try to write the wrong book, and you won’t get far.

The name of this bloggy deal: "I Don't Know What The Hell I'm Doing" is apt; however, I should look on the brightest side possible.

Some of you know this feeling...the one described above.

Jesus, it is wonderful to let go.

And read this too. The commencement address. Comedians are my favorite mentally unstable people. http://pattonoswalt.com/