The Deadly Mustache

Something I've noticed in my time here at BYU, and in general, not just here, is that there is a whole lot of prejudice out there against mustaches. I have personally experienced it. There have been some times when I have decided to grow a mustache, just for the fun of it, and have been going up to work or to class or whatever. When I do that, I find myself getting dirty looks, especially from girls. I start to wonder what could be inspiring this, but then I look down a little bit and remember that my hair in on my upper lip, and everything becomes clear. What is the deal with that? Mustaches can look absolutely awesome (see above). I don't see what the big deal is.

I think that part of the problem is that most girls don't realize just how obnoxious it is to shave one's face. I can speak from experience, having experimented with shaving legs before (that doesn't impune my manliness, I shaved a spiral onto one and checks onto the other), that shaving your face is much more of a pain, in more ways than one. And, if you cut yourself on your leg, at least you can cover it up. If I were to cover up my face, I would have to wear a ski mask, and then I would look even more like a creeper, not that I think I really look like a creeper when I have a mustache.

So, I would like to examine this problem. I think that the main problem is that mustaches are typically associated with people like this character here:
Even I'll admit that that guy is creepy, but I don't think he would be less creepy without the mustache. Observe:
You see? Still a creeper. Therefore, I conclude that the mustache only has minimal effect on the creepiness of a person. I don't think I look creepy with a mustache, I think I look awesome. However, I am unable to exercise said awesomeness for the same reason why I am unable to grow out a mullet: because so many women are prejudiced against them, and I want to be married someday.

With that, I make my end. I don't know if I've really argued my point well, but oh well.

Swine Flu!

All I can say about the image at the left is that whoever drew it is an absolute genius. I, like everyone else in the world, have heard about swine flu, and about how it spreads like wildfire. I have been doing my best to cough and sneeze responsibly into my elbow or into a loose piece of clothing, though I find sneezing into my elbow less-effective in many cases, because I end up folding my arms right after.

However, there's something about this H1N1 flu strain that I don't get: What's the big deal? Sure, it spreads, sure it gets you sick, but for heaven's sake, it doesn't really kill people! Maybe I'm being completely ignorant, but from what I've been able to see, it's just the same as a regular flu! It can develop into brochitis. Well, so can the regular flu! I got bronchitis from the flu when I was in high school, which was a very long time before swine flu was even imagined. However, don't get me wrong. I take swine flu seriously. In fact, if you would like to know whether you have it, I suggest that you check out doihaveswineflu.org. They'll tell you whether you have it or not, and what to do about it. No, seriously, click on that link. It's important. You really need to know whether or not you have swine flu! If you do, you could be spreading it.

Okay, so is it bad that I treat this epidemic like a joke? Sorry if it is. The thing is, this flu is most likely to strike college students, people in the prime of life, which means that it is even less likely to kill people than normal. It is just obnoxious. That being said, I'm tired of all the hype and panic. I will continue to shake hands and hug people. I will leave my house when I cough. I only use hand sanitizer all the time because they have it for free all over campus and I like the novelty of it. Swine flu is seriously not that big of a deal, and I'm going to continue to live my life.

Thus, that being said, I return to the picture. I think that the denizens of the hundred acre wood know about swine flu, and how it isn't really dangerous. I think they've wanted an excuse to get rid of Piglet for years, and now they finally have it. "Goodbye, Piglet," says Rabbit. "Your days of pooping in my garden are over! I mean, uh, I don't want swine flu!" "So long, Piglet!," says Christopher Robin. "Maybe if you had grown a backbone I would have liked to keep you around--I mean...cough, cough, I might be getting swine flu! You need to get away from us!" Am I a really mean person? Maybe. That being said, I'm done with this post. Cliff out.

Felt Like I Should Write Something

So, what to write? It's been a long time since I've made a blog post, and I feel like I'm letting my followers down. I'm in class right now, it's my Late Middle Ages class. It's an interesting class, and once I get my first midterm back, I'll make a judgment as to how much I like it. It's pretty interesting, though. Right now we're talking about the rise of cities. "The Rise of Cities." That sounds official. Maybe the cities rose...from the underworld! Okay, so that's a dumb joke. I'm afraid that I don't have a lot to talk about today, that is, unless you want to hear about my recent life, which I'm sure you don't. Okay, here's an idea.

I have elections on my mind lately. Ever since my roommates and I spotlit ourselves at ward prayer by pretending to be campaigning for Relief Society President, I've thought about it. What if I were running for office? I've done it before. In high school, I was elected the Senior Class Vice President, against a bunch of people who I thought were more popular than I was. I attribute it to my charisma. Either that or I was a lot more popular than I thought. My platform back then was that I essentially didn't have a platform. When I gave my speech for spotlight on Sunday night, my platform was that I would protect the girls (I pulled out my knife), and that I'm fat. I thought that that was a good platform, personally. However, I have other ideas. If I were to run for office, I hereby present my platform:

I am awesome. That's all.

With that, I make my end. To be quite truthful, I don't think I'd do an exceptionally good job at running for office, I think I'd pull a Howard Dean and everyone would think I'm insane. I'm not insane, I'm just enthusiastic! But, for your enjoyment, and for all who don't remember Howard Dean's winning scream from the primaries for the 2008 elections, I present the following:



That being said, I make an end. This is Cliff Chandler, out.

Danger...Continued

Now, here's something to think about. As discussed in the last post about myself, Captain Danger is all about engaging in dangerous activities. However, there's something else to think about. Does proximity to Captain Danger pose a threat to anyone?

Well, the answer to that varies. First of all, it depends on who you are. I would say that danger varies based on whether you are a friend, a woman, or an enemy.

First of all, for friends. One friend of mine will insist that I am a cuddly teddy bear. While I don't especially appreciate that, I can't deny that I am a pretty cuddly guy. However, for my friends, she is essentially correct. I will say, that though I carry my knives and will often threaten my friends with them, I would never actually hurt one of my friends. That just isn't in me. When I make a friend, in fact, they automatically come under my protection, and should an enemy come at them and I'm in range, you can bet that I'll be standing there, ready to stop said enemy, but I get ahead of myself. Suffice it to say that I will not hurt my friends, and when my friends are in my presence, they are probably in less physical danger than they would normally be.

Second of all, there is the category of women. Now, I will grant that many of my best friends are women. However, I have warned them, and I think that they understand the risk that being in my presence puts them in enormous danger for having their hearts broken, repeatedly. It's a sad thing, but I can't marry every woman who falls in love with me, and being in my presence is sure to make a woman fall in love with me very quickly. I can't help it, that's just the way I roll. Thus, though it is sad to admit, the women in my life can be in grave danger when they are near me. However, my close friends who are females have managed to, for the most part, get used to me, and thus the danger is averted, as long as they don't let their guard down.

Finally, we have enemies. Of course, this depends on the enemy. For example, I typically designate the opposing team in sporting events as "the enemy." Those enemies are typically safe. However, there are some enemies who, if they were in my presence, would face a large amount of physical danger. For example, Osama bin Laden. Yeah, he'd get it. I'm still working on using my satellite connections to find that punk. However, he's on the side, as he hasn't ever affected me or my friends directly, per se. The people who I think of most when I think of enemies fall into the category of muggers or burglars or the like. I asked said friend, who insists on calling me a teddy bear, if he would still think of me as a teddy bear if I were standing between her and some mugger-rapist with my knife drawn in her defense. She said that she wouldn't. I said that's what I thought. Also, if any burglar were to break into my house and wake me up, they would definitely find that they had broken into the wrong house. My knives are handy in my pants (which, granted, I'm not wearing when I'm asleep) while I'm asleep, and they would be brought to bear very quickly. And, if I could get to my coat rack, I could bring a machete and a grappling hook to bear. They would not be happy to be there.

Anyway, I think my point is made. If you are friendly to me, you are in no immediate physical danger. If you are an enemy, you are. It's that simple. Thank you.

Just a Quick One

I break from the plan, which was to discuss whether proximity to me (Captain Danger) actually poses any intrinsic danger to deliver this little gem:

This picture, spelled backwards, would probably spell pure genius. It's amazing. I have to say as well, it's true. Brethren do come before wenches, and that's the way it should be. Here's a shout-out to all of my brethren. That's all I have to say.

Captain Danger: Awesome or Egotistical?

So, as my history paper-worthy title of this post says, this post is the promised sequel to the previous one, as to whether my self-applied nickname, Captain Danger, is merited. Let us begin. First of all, how does one define danger? Dictionary.com says that danger is defined as " liability or exposure to harm or injury; risk; peril," " an instance or cause of peril; menace," or " Obsolete. power; jurisdiction; domain." While that last definition is obsolete, I definitely like it. Anyway, I am about to attempt, using real-life situations, that my superhero name is merited. While doing so, I may just prove that I'm awesome, and, that being the case, I figure that I can just call myself whatever the heck I want and have it be merited.

So, it stands to reason that Captain Danger would do dangerous things, correct? Well, let's start perusing his life. We'll start a while ago. Here we have Captain Danger, his preferred weapon in hand, one of his first victims in other hand, preparing to deal out some real damage. Okay, granted, it's a coconut, but how many people do you know who keep machetes in their house? I would guess that, for most of my readers, the answer to that is "not many." If there's something that denotes "exposure to harm," I would say that tossing a coconut up in the air and then wildly swinging at it with a machete does.


Next: we have this gem. Here I am, after a day of manhandling heavy fence posts into place and bending barb-studded wire to my will, standing at the edge of a precipitous drop into a place called Adam's Crick, which, I have to tell you, would not be fun to fall in. Trust me. One of the few things that make Captain Danger uneasy is proximity to heights from which he could fall and injure himself, and so, this picture definitely shows "risk."

As further proof, I offer the following:Now, the reader may say, "Now, Cliff, that's not dangerous! You're just riding a horse!" To that reader, I say, "You, sir (or madam) obviously don't know much about horses!" I may look to be very much at my ease, and I am in this picture, because I'm awesome. However, what many readers don't know is that most all horses are seething cauldrons of deceit and destruction, just waiting to destroy you when they feel the slightest hint of fear coming off of you. If you don't believe me, ask me sometime about the time when a horse sat on me and I couldn't lift my left arm for about a week. Not a pleasant experience. That was definitely "peril" if you ask me.


Gunfighting, as I'm sure most people will agree, is very dangerous. The idea of pacing off and then turning and firing definitely implies "liability or exposure to harm." Pieces of lead flying at fantastically fast velocities are very likely to cause harm to bodily tissues. Thankfully, I, Captain Danger, have yet to sustain harm from said pieces of flying lead. However, the chance is always there, as long as the gunfighting habit remains. However, this picture most definitely denotes danger.




On the right, we have another instance of exposure to harm by proximity to a precipitous drop. Granted, this time I'm clipped in to a rope, but you never know when said rope is going to give, and then where are you? You're stuck in a hole on the side of a wall with no way down. Of course, I'm Captain Danger, and as I have a pretty good hope that I will one day gain super powers, I'm not too worried. I'd just have to wait it out. But, for most people, this would be a very dangerous thing to attempt. Keep that in mind next time you trust a rope. "This rope could break at any time, and I have no hope of acquiring super powers in the future. Crap."


And, as the final piece of proof, I offer the most dangerous thing that I participate in: consorting with women. If anything denotes "an instance or cause of peril," it would be hanging around with women. While their company can be enjoyable, they tend to have evil boiling just under the surface that can explode at any time. Just look at that angry face on the specimen at the left!

With that, I conclude. I, personally, feel that the appellation "Captain Danger is entirely merited. I leave it up to the public to decide for themselves. The Cliff Chandler rests.

Captain Danger...Real or Imaginary?

So, it has been pointed out recently by someone that I'm not up to my typical levels of Narcissism. I'm not sure why that is, but I can agree with that. However, I figured that a good way to remedy that would be to write a blog post about myself. Thus, I am proceeding to do just that.

I thought that, in a possible series of blog posts that I will write about myself, this first one should be about one of my screen names and something that I call myself very often, though it is often abbreviated to just "Captain." Yes, I am referring to the name of Captain Danger, which would, if I were a superhero, be my superhero name, though I think everyone would know it was me really fast. I don't think that would be a problem. If I were a superhero, I don't think I would bother with an alter-ego. Heck, I'm practically a superhero already. Anyway, the question is, how did I come up with that name? That is a good question, and I'm not really sure myself. However, to really know, I think we'll have to wind the clock back a couple years.

Picture me, Cliff Chandler, weighing about 10 pounds less (believe it or not) 2 years younger, and wandering around in Monticello. His friends at the time were really talking him up. His current friends do that, too, but the friends of that time for some reason really talked him up. If people say that Cliff is a conceited guy, they must know that it isn't entirely his fault. He has had a lot of people feeding it for a while. Back in the day (2 years ago) when 2-years-younger Cliff would say, "Man, I am so awesome!" about 3 people would usually chime in and say, "Holy crap, Cliff, you're right! How did you get that way?" 2-years-younger Cliff didn't usually have an answer, because he wasn't sure himself, though he had a few ideas. Anyway, around this time, 2-years-younger Cliff started to overuse the word danger a little bit. I currently do that a little bit, but for some reason, 2-years-younger Cliff had something of a fixation with it. When he would walk around in his apartment complex he would say, "Danger!" to announce himself, though it was usually to himself.

Now, something to keep in mind is that, ever since his mission, when 2-years-younger Cliff had gotten used to calling himself by his last name, he had been calling himself various things like Mr. Chandler, or Senor Candelario (Spanish), or Captain Chandler. It came only naturally that the word that 2-years-younger Cliff was fixed upon should become his new appellation. Thus it was that I, approximately two years ago, began calling myself Captain Danger. The name has stuck, at least for me, and has expanded so that even some others have started calling me that, at least sporadically. I'm sure that, someday, when I complete the superhero journey and get powers, I will be able to use that name.

These days, it has become such second nature for me to call myself by this name that when something happens, say, I trip, or slip on a rock that I'm climbing up, I talk to myself and say something to the effect of "Watch yourself, Captain," or "Ostarozhno, Captain." (Russian) People around me probably don't have a clue what I'm talking about, but hey, if I'm ever going to be a superhero, I have to have a little bit of mystery around me, right?

Well, in conclusion, this post has been so fun to write that I think it may be the beginning of a series of posts about me. In the next post, perhaps I'll address whether I am justified in calling myself Captain Danger. I'll already tell you, I think that I am. Thank you for reading.