By the power of Twitter... I AM HE-MAN! Or, umm, Dr. Cynicism.

I believe I'm slowly and methodically climbing my way out from under this mountain of unbearable work - I can finally see a light in the distance.  Unfortunately, I can't be more specific about what's been keeping me super busy, considering the immensely secretive and highly classified nature of my recent activities.  However, the U.S. Department of Clandestine Stuff and Things has allowed me to use a "predetermined and authorized" set of keywords/phrases when describing my recent activities to others:

Ninja babies, Halliburton, Fred Savage, "don't let the terrorists win," ivory tower, Stephen King's The Dark Tower, skinny jeans or jeggings (but not both), Condoleezza Rice Cakes, Cameo's Word Up, and psychoneurohypersexualphysionauticalendocrinology.

Anyhow, my last post inspired me.  And yes, I realize how grossly pretentious and nauseatingly pompous it sounds for someone to get inspired/motivated by their own thoughts, but fuck it, I'm going with it.  Here's the deal: in almost every aspect of our daily lives, we're constantly bombarded by advice, opinions, information, and commentary - some of it useful, most of it horse shit.  Meh, that's life.  But lately though, I've noticed a substantial increase in optimistic and feel-good commentary coming from the strangest places: the underside of Snapple lids, the tags on Yogi tea bags, fortune cookies, magazine articles, the smelly guy with the eye patch on the #34 city bus, and Nickelodeon News (what? where do you get your news from?).  Clearly something is wrong here.  Where can someone find the cold hard facts, or advice that isn't filtered through rose colored glasses?  Who's looking out for the realist?  Who's looking out for the cynics in our world, huh?!  I'll tell you who - nobody.  Until now my dear students.

Given my position as professor of Cynicism 101, I have the opportunity - no, obligation and responsibility - to do my part in making this planet a more tolerable place for cynics, skeptics, pragmatists, and realists.  Now, since most of my sage wisdom can be delivered as quick, no-nonsense one-liners, this blog probably isn't the best avenue for such an endeavor.  Enter Twitter, stage left.  Honestly, I haven't used this social clusterfuck of procrastination network very well in the past.  But from now on, I'll put this media juggernaut to work on my campaign to spread unfiltered TRUTH to the masses.

If you want in on this movement (ha huh, I said movement), please follow me on Twatter, and then I'll follow you, and after all the back scratching, we'll have an orgy I'll halfway promise to deliver about one tweet a day (which also posts to Facebook, so you can follow me there too) in which I provide realistic and cynical advice to someone or something out there in the world.  And since everyone in the frickin world reads this blog, obviously, that person will clearly know that I'm referring to them.  Perfect logic, right?  It's a win win people.

Recent bits of wisdom:

(1) Girl in the stairwell, your perfume is exquisite. Stinky lady in the admin office, there's this thing called perfume - talk to stairwell girl.
(2) Lady who yelled at me at the LaGuardia Airport Burger King last week, you work at the airport Burger King.
(3) Creators of Inception, I did not appreciate the headache. But the tingling inside my mind - that was OK.

Here's the only problem... this campaign lacks a name.  The name needs to exude power (like a bald eagle on steroids dressed in a tuxedo), wit, clarity, and awe (you know, like a bald eagle on steroids dressed in a tuxedo).  As such, I leave it to you students.  Your homework is to come up with a worthy title for my Twitter campaign.  Aaaaaaand GO!