Ask Dr. Thunder Episode 316

Well we meet again, faceless reader type persons. I know last week, or whenever it was I last posted, you were all like "Dr. Thunder! Without your wisdom in the form of replies to emails, we will wither and die!" Well readers-- "WITHER AND DIE!" this week I am-- "WITHER!" gonna answer--- "DIIIIIIEEEEE!"
Ok you done now? "YES." Ok. So anyway this week, I am going back to the usual format of reading real emails you disgusting people sent in and then making fun of you. Our first email comes from Randy in Connecticut. "Wither and die."

Dear Dr. Thunder.
This coming election is the most important thing that has ever happened to anyone ever. Who are you going to vote for? Barack Obama or Tall Shiny Hair Man. Danke schon!

The Most Important Thing Ever

Well Stephen I have decided not to participate in democracy this season, as I have for the past 480 years. The thing is, democracy in the United States, isn't really a thing. Democracy is when everyone gets a vote for everything. What we have is a republic, where we elect a series of reprehensible people to make decisions that benefit them personally and sometimes, often by accident, the people who elected them. The founding fathers decided that the people they fought to liberate from the mild inconvenience of British tyranny were far too stupid to have any actual power so they came up with a system where that power would go to charismatic douche-bags instead. Now, obviously these are generalizations. But you probably don't know what that word means. You're probably picturing those previous statements in tiny peaked hats with little stars and those brushy shoulder things. They are called epaulets.
As for the presidential election, voting, on an individual level is basically the most pointless way to waste an afternoon that doesn't involve genitalia. Let's look at it this way. Let's say I live in California, in the hills behind Michael Armor's house so I can sneak in at night and secretly shave off a square inch of body hair every other week. Not that I am admitting to such, in case any ex-wives or the inhuman greed engines they call lawyers are reading.
Now let's say I wanted to vote for Mr. Obamington or whatever the president's name is. Woo! Hooray! The democrats take California and all 60 of it's votes go to the President. Now let's say I want to vote for Romnington. Woo! Hooray! The democrats take California and all 60 of it's votes go to the President.
You see, in a state like California where one party has a clear majority, voting for either candidate is completely and utterly pointless. If you vote for the majority party, they were going to win anyway, so good for you. If you vote for the minority party, they aren't going to win, your candidate will receive approximately zero additional votes, and you should probably just kill yourself.
"But Dr. Thunder! If no one votes, then how will we determine who the next President is? Without a President we will be easily assimilated by Canada!"
Don't worry. The elderly will still vote. And the hardcore partymembers. You could literally nominate a trained bear that has been dead for six months as a candidate for one of the two major parties and it would get at least 40% of the vote.
"But Dr. Thunder! This is an important decision we can't just leave to borderline fanatics and old people!"
No, it really isn't. Thanks to your system of checks and balances, the President doesn't have nearly as much power as he should have. Plus, he's not going to do anything too radical because he and his friends have to win another popularity contest in four years time.
So this year, do what I do. Stay home, crack open a bottle of stolen wine, and plant scorpion eggs in Michael Armor's laundry hamper.

Democracy!

Dear Dr. Thunder,
My friend was abducted by aliens. I am putting a team together to get him back. Will you join us?

Savages!

Well Stephen, if it really was aliens, then sure. As a scientist I am morally obligated to investigate new forms of life and then kill them, dissect them, and write papers on their remains. However, the concept of aliens visiting our planet is frankly mind-bogglingly retarded. Like my mind is literally boggled so hard right now it is difficult to type. Let's look at this piece by piece. First of all, we already checked all the nearby planets for life and they are as inhospitable as Lindsay Lohan's vagina. Which means that if there is extraterrestrial life they would have to be at least a few hundred light years away. And let's say they have the technology to reach the speed of light, which is the fastest anything can go. Now, hurtling through space at those speeds would mean that if they hit even the tiniest speck of dust it would tear their ship to pieces like a hammer through a baby's skull.
But let's say they for some reason have a ship that can not only go the speed of light but also either navigate with unimaginable precision. Coolio. Kudos to the artificial intelligence that will be piloting the ship. Because there is no way in hell an alien is going out into space for several hundred years. Mars is in our fucking backyard on a grander scale and we're sending robots there like an old guy who sits on his porch and pays the neighborhood kids to bring him his paper.
Ok so their robot gets here. What possible reason would they have to abduct anyone? They're sure as hell not going to bring them back to their planet. If they sent anything, it would probably be a passive observer because no alien society in their right mind would fund anything more elaborate than that when there is no guarantee that it's even going to find anything. And if they already had a way of seeing us before they sent the probe then why send it at all? If they've mastered space travel then they will know that we are actually several hundred years in the future of what they are seeing and for all they know our planet could have been destroyed by the time we got there.
Anyway, I'm tired of talking about this. Because I hate you now. I am going to find you, and kill you. I hope you're happy now. Next email.

Dear Dr. Thunder
What is your zombie survival plan?

Zombie?

 Well Stephen my plan is to sit down in a chair, lock my front door and then jerk off for about six hours until the U.S. military and the CDC completely eradicates the zombies. Seriously, have you seen the kind of weapons we have? Even if the government was somehow caught off-guard, everyone and their grandma knows what a zombie is and how to kill it. Hell, there is a HUGE segment of the population, probably including you has a "zombie survival plan" and a shitload of weapons and they are just itching for an excuse to murder random strangers. The zombies wouldn't last ten minutes. Why do you think every zombie movie and TV show starts AFTER the apocalypse because there is no realistic way that it could happen.
Well, I have to go hunt down the guy who wrote the second email and kill his whole family now. SO until next time, you keep sending those emails, and I'll keep pretending to read them.

Ask Dr. Thunder Episode 315

So this week, instead of answering your stupid emails about bullshit, we're doing things a little differently. As you all know, I recently edited a collection of short stories that went on to win the prestigious Dr. Thunder Award for Things That Make Dr. Thunder Slightly Richer.
 Available here. Buy 10 copies.
However, the royalties I was contractually obligated to receive were somewhat less than I had expected. So I called up the shithead who wrote the stories and demanded that he publish another, better book, that I would name, edit, and receive all the credit for. So he did and now we're bringing him on as a special guest to talk about it. Well, special in the sense that he thinks he can write, like roughly 90% of the population.

Please welcome spite-fueled engine of self-destruction, Michael Armor.
How am I a "spite-fueled engine of self-destruction"?
Well you continue to insist that I am merely a character you created yes? So you are essentially talking to yourself?
Yes.
Well, then you just called ytourself a spite-fueled engine of self-destruction. That sounds pretty spiteful and self destructive to me.
Touche
This is America, we speak English here. If you don't like it you can return to whatever sandy hell hole you hail from.
First of all, I am American, second of all, this is the internet, which isn't technically America.
You just keep telling yourself that.
Can we talk about the book?
Sure, so you're a terrible writer. Which is a shame because it always seem like you are on the verge of not terrible, then you just add in a little hot glaze of failure that brings the whole work down.
Well, you know that`s the sort of thing an editor is supposed to catch so I can fix it.
Which is why I'm telling you.
Several months after the book was published.
I gave you notes!
You sent the proof copy back four hours after I gave it to you with a sticky note that said "Sounds Good" and a crude drawing of me getting sexually assaulted by a bear.
That's not true. He was raping you. That is a very specific kind of sexual assault. And I am pretty sure you were enjoying it. Anyway, that's all in the past, I will do a much better job on your next books.
Books?
Yep, you're writing two now.
But I haven't even finished the novel yet.
Oh he's writing "novels" now. Fancy. Just slap some of that crap you write in your spare time together and put a fancy title on it. I'm thinking "The Humble Magnificence of Dr. Thunder" or maybe "The Undeniable Glory of Dr. Thunder."
Or, you know, something relevant.
Ah! but you gave me the rights to name it!
Which isn't a real thing.
And to boost sales I will even include MY latest story, "Dr. Handsome Protagonist and the Temple of Being 
Better Than You In Every Way"
What, me personally?
No, just everyone.
So why exactly are we doing this when the book isn't even done yet?
Books.
Fine, books.
Because I haven't updated the blog in a while and if I have to sift through more emails from cretins asking me why other cretins won't fuck them I'm going to shoot someone.
Ok, so what do you want me to say? The novel's almost done, I'm probably half way through enough stories to fit another one. 
Tell them how pretty the books are going to be when you publish them. And I want my picture on the back this time. And the front.
Whatever, I'm probably going to have someone else edit them this time.
How dare you! I will hunt them down and kill their whole families with a spoon.
No you won't because you don't exist.
Boy you are just dead set on convincing the world you are a crazy person who talks to himself.
I guess I really am kind of a spite-fueled engine of self-defeat.
Self-destruction. 
Whatever. Buy my book.

Well that was insightful and a little depressing! Tune in whenever I feel like it for the next exciting installment of Ask Dr. Thunder. You keep sending those emails, and I'll keep pretending to read them! Unless I decided to interview a delusional jackass instead!