so there we were in Amman, Jordan. Graciously being shown around by my good friend’s sister. We entered a store, me in search of manglish and trinkets.

But then something caught my eye. Amidst a bunch of books strewn on the floor, lay one that screamed out, “Hi there, neighbor!”

< FIGHTING IN THE WAY OF JEAN [...]]]>

so there we were in Amman, Jordan. Graciously being shown around by my good friend’s sister. We entered a store, me in search of manglish and trinkets.

But then something caught my eye. Amidst a bunch of books strewn on the floor, lay one that screamed out, “Hi there, neighbor!”

< FIGHTING IN THE WAY OF JEAN CLAUDE VAN DAMME >

JCVD! Apparently the Jordanians have a refined taste in men. The arabic says something like, “The life & fighting art of Jean Claude Van Damm.” I told my friends I wanted it, and they asked how much. The owner responded with a high price. Nadia laughed and said NO WAY. The owner stammered, “But it’s one of my best sellers!” Even he couldn’t believe what he’d just said, so he relented.

< THE AMERICAN HERO, VAN DAMME >

There his majesty is, posing with the patron saint of kung fu.

And again, with his “gay lumberjack” outfit. This goes on for a few pages. And hey, why does it say, “METH” on bruce’s leg?

< BRUCE LEE, THE KING OF KUNG FU >

Some contextless shots of Bruce Lee again. Just thrown in for flavor.

a series of uncomfortable fighting poses and unexplained moves.

Okay – an overview of the fists in this system. The half-assed ram, the dagger fist, and WTF? Donatello?

When learning the Way of Jean Claude Van Damm, it’s essential to know how the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles would perform it.

But wait – the Turtle hasn’t moved. Perhaps it’s because he’s just turtle slow.

The turtles do their own thing while the fetus from Aliens looks on.

GOD I WISH I HAD THIS AS A POSTER

the five fists of van damm, AND the shitting turtle form.

A groin punch with a gigantic fist seems like a cheap shot.

Disco guy gets owned by van damm’s turtle fighting system. The whole book seems to be a poorly hand-drawn copy of “Tao of Jeet Kune Do” (Bruce Lee) interspersed with Jean Claude and the ninja turtles. A truly inspired creation.

A fantastic find in a land of untapped manglish. More to come. Salaam!

(light pollution can be pretty.)

Forgive me, dearest readers – i have not forgotten thee. I have been both busy and away, taking turns at each. But I brought you a present!

Many, actually, but let’s start with a bang. So I was in Jordan.

and they had an amusing Manglish level.

What else says, “puffy corn fingers injected [...]]]>

(light pollution can be pretty.)

Forgive me, dearest readers – i have not forgotten thee. I have been both busy and away, taking turns at each. But I brought you a present!

Many, actually, but let’s start with a bang. So I was in Jordan.

and they had an amusing Manglish level.

What else says, “puffy corn fingers injected with chocolate” than our 49th state, which is about 80% men? There’s a joke in there somewhere.

A cologne called “Insurrection” and a “highly-concentrated” one called “One Man Show” just strike me as hilarious.

“Wow, Steve, what the hell are you wearing?”

“One Man Show.”

“I’ll say!”

Amiably grown up. There’s a parental goal. “The geography education material with overflow packing for infant.” Wait a minute! Aren’t I in Jordan? That box’s outline looks suspiciously like… Wait, it’s coming to me… um. man I should have paid attention in Geography…

That’s right, Mike – that’s China we were looking at, and I’ve now spotted the source of much of the mangled English to be seen around Amman. Cheap Chinese Imports! Half a world away from anywhere I call home, and yet I feel welcome.

The power is matchless – and so is the name – DaredeVil in name, Batman inside, bats, Spiderman, Robin, Venom, and whatever character Alicia Silverstone played on the box. Close enough, it’s not like Daredevil could ever see this travesty, seeing how he’s blind. Um, and fictional. Let’s move on.

When I read this I picture a World War 2 movie with someone shouting into a radio this code, “EXCELLENCE – REPEAT – EXCELLENCE. THERE IS NO FASHION TREND, DIESEL. NO FASHION TREND. OVER. EXECUTE PLANET OCEAN STUDIO AT ONE-TWO-EIGHT. OVER!”

I can’t heckle this without repeating myself. knock yourselves out.

Is this a haiku? This product was kind of uhiou. nature of manglish.

if the dollar weakens much more, this may not be out of the question. Someone wake Ron Paul!

How many of you have ever been to a refugee camp? Well, I have, and the chicken was just OK.

Can you tell me how to get… how to get to…?

For some reason this sounds kind of dirty. Or like nunchaku? I’m confused!

Some typically friendly Palestinian refugees. They were initially suspicious of me taking pictures of everything. But really, would anyone pick me to be a spy? I’m the loudest, largest, most buffoonish person in any room; 3 Buffets of the Condor. BTW: I always wonder, when I’m in, say, a REFUGEE CAMP a world away, how a shirt that says “Forest Lake Area Community Services Baseball” got to be there. This shit is like the Da Vinci Code to me.

I have a feeling Walt Disney is going to sue you into another dimension.

I’ll leave it there – as I go through my pics, I’m remembering how much there is to say. I have two VERY funny things to share. Stay tuned for those – but here’s a peek:

more soon – salaam!

“The first and [...]]]> “Strength is Happiness. Strength is itself victory. In weakness and cowardice there is no happiness. When you wage a struggle, you might win or you might lose. But regardless of the short-term outcome, the very fact of your continuing to struggle is proof of your victory as a human being.” — Daisaku Ikeda

“The first and best victory is to conquer self;” — Plato

A year ago, I was worried about a slight weight gain as we left for China.

Today, I weigh a LOT more. What the hell happened?

“We just had a kid,” I thought. “It’s sympathy weight. Or maybe it’s the stress of landing work and doing work.” I blamed my wife, my traveling, the Holidays, my friends. “I can’t fast on my trip / during the wedding / during BootCamp.” I blamed my apartment’s proximity to an otaku-with-a-sweet-tooth’s wet dream. “I’ll start on Monday / after I finish this Halloween candy / when I eat all the cake I just bought.” I rationalized, I sulked, I ignored. And guess what? The problem didn’t go away.

This is called the downward spiral; a feedback loop from which few escape. Bad habits cause bad feelings which spur bad habits ad nauseam. Instead of looking the problem square in the eye, I played dumb. “I know, I know – don’t worry. I’m on it.” That’s what I said to everyone, but in reality, I had no visibility into how bad the problem had gotten. I had a rough idea (two pants sizes) but the spiral was slow, and so tasty. The spiral is a reactive, animal thing. Creatures are dragged around by their instincts without choice, but as humans, we can choose. We don’t always do it, but we can.

Commercial pilots can make over 200k per year, but computers can take off and land planes pretty easily now. So why are they paid so much?

They’re not paid for the good times. They’re paid for disaster; for the hope that in the split second between death and life, they can apply their training and do the weird thing, the counterintuitive thing, the human thing. To turn into a spiral, breaking the cycle and freeing the plane.

In a car, driving on ice, sliding around, about to crash – anyone would slam on the brakes, sealing their doom. Someone pilot-like could apply the gas and perhaps save everyone. That’s what a pilot does. And that’s why they’re so valuable. When needed, they do the weird thing.

It doesn’t matter how much you’ve screwed up, slacked off, shirked duty. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since you last worked out, saw the dentist, went to an AA meeting. It doesn’t matter how far you’ve fallen. Wallowing is the spiral. The only decision before you is : “What do I do right now to save my ass?”

And so it’s with a pissed determination I activate the “fasten your meat belts” sign. I’m pulling myself out of this spiral. If you’re in the same boat, join me. Let’s be humans.

The view from my hotel room here in Israel. Very nice way [...]]]> I’m in the Middle East on business and thought I’d update everyone. I haven’t forgotten about you all, and I fully intend to keep this up. Life, as you know, gets in the way. So I’ll do my best.

The view from my hotel room here in Israel. Very nice way to wake up. This place is amazing.

Pretty current picture of the gang. Bonnie, Clyde, and Babyface Nelson. You should see the fights they get into! Missing them right now.

Allah Oop. Definitely a foul on him.

My cohort in crime has dusted off the easel. I’ll post a link to his site again when it’s done renovations. Until then, his stuff will appear here with permission.

Just because I have been under the radar doesn’t mean I’ve lost my Mangneticism. Not only does Manglish jump out at me like a zit on an ass, but my friends and readers help, too. Here are their zits. Let’s pop them together, shall we?

1.) From reader Jim Holt, who took it [...]]]>

Just because I have been under the radar doesn’t mean I’ve lost my Mangneticism. Not only does Manglish jump out at me like a zit on an ass, but my friends and readers help, too. Here are their zits. Let’s pop them together, shall we?

1.) From reader Jim Holt, who took it “in Yangshuo, near Guilin.”

Marlboro, like Mickey Mouse and adidas, is one of the most mangled brands worldwide. In their defense, however, it’s a hard name to get phonetically – it sounds like you’re gargling marbles… or I guess they might be tumors. Anyway, they get a slight pass for it being hard. But wait – NO. Especially in China, where even preschools have smoking sections, they should have gotten this. No free pass. Good find, Jim!

2.) Reader Arlen Trichardt sends in these next two from across the pond. “I thought these Manglish submissions would help you out, the thing that makes them unique is that they’re both from locations in central London. The one with the delivery van was taken near Paddington Green, and the “exit” light was taken inside a mall called the Trocadero near Picadilly (and subsequently removed about a week later!). ” Cheers, Arlen!

Man this is funny in a few ways. Can I laugh at this without being added to the No-Fly list?

You there – This area is only for people who exist! If you’re not going to exist, I suggest you go elsewhere.

3. Friend Rick Mann send in this beaut: “My girlfriend got her car serviced at Saturn of Santa Clara, and they gave her this hand-crank LED flashlight/cell phone charger for free. It comes with 3 or 4 adapter plugs to fit various cell phones (except, of course, USB).”

I didn’t catch this until looking at it a few times. Wasn’t Eternai the planet He-Man was from? Or did I just mangle that? Come to think of it, He-man’s slogan was kind of redundant – “By the power of Greyskull, I have the power!” But who’s going to correct He-man? He rode a frigging TIGER, people! Where the hell was I?

“convenient schlep and storage” I’d love to get my hands on a Yiddish-Chinese dictionary.

“..the light of diode will be darken with the past of time.” Isn’t that Confucious? or Confusious?

“Our company will not be responsible for the appeal relevant to refitted product.” Of course not – if I improve your crap, *I’m* responsible for the appeal, right?

“plug in slowly under the precondition of acknowledgement?” Sounds like a good alternative to “No means No.”

Dude, this packaging is resulting in inner confusion and causing useless. Not only is it confusing, it’s too self-deprecating. Come on, you’re not that bad – are you?

More coming very soon – thanks to everyone for your comments and submissions!

The one pervading wisdom of the human race has to be “Tempus Fugit.” Time Flies, they say, and they’re right. A minute ago, the summers lasted aeons.

I blinked my eyes, Jr. High. I blink again, High School. Again, College. Then working, then 400 pounds, then China. Here’s where [...]]]>

The one pervading wisdom of the human race has to be “Tempus Fugit.” Time Flies, they say, and they’re right. A minute ago, the summers lasted aeons.

I blinked my eyes, Jr. High. I blink again, High School. Again, College. Then working, then 400 pounds, then China. Here’s where whoever’s driving the Time Bus decides to get stupid.

The last time I had to really reflect, I had just fought in the US Open, 336 lbs – can’t wait to tell you more about that by the way – and after another blink, I’m married, a hundred lbs lighter, and now THREE kids, two of whom speak two languages and one who’s already taking digital pics. Weren’t you just in diapers?

This is not my beautiful wife – this is not my beautiful car. The phrase should really be “Tempus Propero,” or “Time Accelerates.” Because not only is it pulling us through existence at an astounding pace, it’s getting faster.

And faster. I guess there’s nothing to do but hold on to each other for dear life.

That song “100 years” is depressing as hell (“I’m 33 – for a moment,”) because it covers an entire life in three minutes. But when it’s all done for us, will it feel even that long?

In the last conversation with my Grandma Burnie, I told her time flies. She sighed, and replied, “Where did it all go? In my head, I’m still nineteen.” She was eighty.

After you have kids, and when you come up from dank diaperage to breathe fresh air, you feel really mortal. I’m blessed, happy, fulfilled, even.

However, and unfortunately, as they say: This, too, will pass. Drink it up, men, it’s long after ten.