On Prizes

Second of all, I prefer to skip firsts, as they bother me.

I have decided a thing and that thing is what the first official prize of Opinions in Three Words or Less will be. I won't declare what it is, because it may deter some fine opinion havers from participating in America's #1 blog about opinions, and so I won't tell you what it is. I will, however, say that the first individual to reach 10 wins will be the benefactor of this gift. It'll be from me to you, whoever you are. And it will be tailored and made specifically for you. I promise.

Keep an eye out for score updates. But no one is even halfway there just yet, so it's truly anybody's game.

Stay frosty, gentlemen and gentleladies.


- Gimli, son of Gloin

It's Dangerous to Go Alone! Take This Win!

Another swell round of opinions, opinion havers. This round's victory goes to Joey, though, I'm afraid. And this is a good example of why you shouldn't always attempt a funny opinion. Aside from the fact that only about 6 of you have wit enough to contend with your wholly good and benevolent gamemaster, sometimes Seinfeld-esque observation opinions are just as good. But in a different way. Like how turkey bacon is just as good as normal bacon, but it's so very different, but still delightful. Turkey bacon could net you a "W."

I chose Joey's because he's right. Meaning he's correct. Nail. On it's head. Righto, Sonny Jim. It's the exact same syndrome, isn't it? I'd never really considered the phenomena before he brought it up, but I wonder what other works of fiction, games, movies, novels, whatever, have the same problem? The piece is titled one thing and the protagonist (or at least primary focus character) is called another and the uneducated can't reconcile the two. In fact, if you think of more, comment below. I'm genuinely curious. How many "No, that's the TITLE of this thing, not the guy's name!" situations can we come up with?

Many people probably don't know any better, but that's no reason for us not to publicly mock them. So join with me in openly berating every bo-tard who doesn't know the princess is Zelda and every pirate hooker who doesn't know Frankenstein is the doctor. Way to go, turkey bacon.

Joey's Three Words or Less on PEOPLE WHO THINK LINK'S NAME IS ZELDA

- "Similar to Frankenstein." -

Total wins: 4

People Who Think Link's Name is Zelda

There is a problem and that problem is people who think the little elfman in the Legend of Zelda video game series is named Zelda. I absolutely will not stand for this infraction. I’m more insulted by this than I am by Madonna’s arms.

I am actually not that big of a fan of the Zelda series. I’m certainly not against them, as I am a gamer. I respect the snot out of Zelda, but they are typically not my bag, and that’s okay. I like the idea of the Legend of Zelda more than I actually like the games. So I am not a Zelda purist. This isn’t a Mountain Dew and D&D and virginity-fueled rant. I have done away with all three of those things. Some mournfully, some, less so. I have only ever defeated a single Zelda game (Link to the Past) and extensively played only two other games in the series (Ocarina of Time and Windwaker). I am not arguing on behalf of those among you with Japanese relationship pillows or whatever the crap they’re called that look like the princess herself. I am arguing for gamers and lovers of general nerdery. I mean, these people what with their stupid thinking Link is named Zelda…they’re as bad as people who think Greedo shot first.

Sidebar: to clarify for the terrible, terrible, people out there who don’t know, Zelda is the princess that you, as protagonist and young elf-like man, are attempting to impress so you can presumably bone her. Don't be offended, I didn't come up with that. A Japanese guy did. Your name is Link. It is Zelda’s legend. The legend is of her, and the legend always involves needing Link to do tasks like put things in empty bottles and throw chickens. Sidebar over.

Let me ask you a question, person who thinks Zelda is the name of the green-clad hero of Hyrule. How much do you support forced child labor? Because a recent study I made up showed nearly 98% of 9 in 6 people surveyed who think Zelda is Link’s name support the forceful employment of children ages 6 to 15 for little or no wages. What kind of person are you? Do you think curb stomping is a valid and humane method of execution? How many Labrador puppies did you suffocate so far in today’s work week? I bet you watch Two and Half Men and laugh, don’t you? Why do you exhume the graves of people sharing your middle name and pee into the casket? Does a typical meal for you involve the career aspirations of single mothers with a side of orphan prayers? These are the types of people that think Link is Zelda.

Perhaps I’m overreacting, but I wish you were never born, you waste of human potential. No, no. I wish you were born, but had been born straight from your mother’s womb into a vat of delicious, boiling white cheddar fondue. Not because I want to eat you. That’s stupid and cannibalistic. If there's one thing I'm not, it's athletic, but if there are two, it's athletic and a cannibal. No, not for eating, but born into the fondue because I don’t think that it would kill you. You would, however, probably have a severe physical deformity and no one would like you because you would have a crippling fear of cheese that you couldn’t explain because you had no memory of your traumatic birth. “Hey,” people would say, “aren’t you the guy with the shriveled skin who is also terrified of nacho day at the cafeteria?”Admittedly, I don’t know that much about Legend of Zelda lore. I’m far from an expert. I don’t actually have a right at all to stand up for it. But I’m going to because I am right and you are wrong and you are arrogant and I am still right and you are still wrong and arrogant while I remain right.

- Spike

Congrats! You Won a Midget!

The battle was hard fought and there were casualties on both sides. We lost some friends, but made new ones. I personally watched eleven Turkish brick layers parish from open neck wounds. Why? Why were they laying brick there? Ah, well. Die and let living stuff die, Paul McCormick says. But I know we're all the better for it. I'm proud of you all.

Mostly, though, I'm proud of Zach, because he wins the midget round. Although I did have a quality chortle at a few different opinions, his makes me think of a society where little people are sold, and in small italic writing near an asterisk it says Zach's opinion and then there are little Capri Sun packet things that have magic in then and those are on a nearby rack, but you have to buy those separately, but it's okay because they sell all sorts of spells for your very own midget, so you want to collect them*. That's why Zach has the best opinion in three words or less.

I do believe that's his first win. Party on. Oh, and before I sign off, I have to apologize for "liking" an entry. It was terribly unprofessional. But it made me go "PLAF!" and I had never heard that sound before. So, sorry Jered. You definitely didn't win.

Okay, bye then. Til next time, sportsfans.

- Zach's Three Words or Less on MIDGETS -

"Magic not included."

Total wins: 1

*DO NOT FRIGGIN START TRYING TO SELL MIDGETS! IT'S FREAKING IMMORAL! IT'S SO WRONG, YOU GUYS! DON'T DO IT!

Midgets

PREFACE:
First of all, I have never had a little person tell me they prefer to be called little person rather than midget. I will assume that’s an old wives’ tale. I’ll gladly do it, if that’s what they want. Not because I’m politically correct, because I’m not. But because I don’t usually like being called Nate. I prefer Nathan or one of my many stupid nicknames, like D. Malcolm Tate. Someone who insisted on calling me Nate would be a colossal tool when he knew full well I preferred Nathan. The argument, understandably, doesn’t make the rock hardest of sense, but this is not a place for rock hard arguments. It is a place for opinions soft as bruised pears. And my opinion is that “midget” is a fun word and “little person” is not a word that is as fun. And now for my opinion of midget people.

Midgets. They’re everywhere. Well, maybe not everywhere. They are some places, but not all places. What I mean to say is that it would be a problem if midgets outweighed the taller populace. For real. Everything would get smaller. Like counters at restaurants and the average height of windows. If I was part of a height minority like that, things would not be tailored for me. Right now, everything is built with tall folk in mind and I am comfortable. But if I wasn’t in the majority, I’d probably be in the minority and things would probably be a lot different. Crouching under doorways, sitting on dwarf toilets with my knees level with my hair, trying to manipulate scissors with grips designed for hands more compact than my own, buying clothes in octuple XL, struggling to type on diminished keyboards, purchasing custom size mattresses on the black market because the midgets have illegalized Bigger wares, driving government mandated dune buggy-like vehicles called Scamperers.

It would be pandemonium. Soon, the little people would revolt against the towering freaks that mar their otherwise perfect 3’11” catered world. There is violence in the streets. Since the Smalls outnumber the Bigs ten to one, they easily swarm we giants and giantesses. I certainly can’t stop them. I doubt you can. Not alone. No, not alone. But we are not alone.

And so we band together. It is not a matter of color. Religious prejudices are cast aside. We few, we proud few, join together, surmounting barriers of language and race to stand on the shores of Stubleg Shore as tugboat-sized warships approach. Here, we make our stand. Here, we decide who will inherent this war-torn land. Your grandfathers fell with the first of the rebellion at the Battle of Stuntgrowth City. Your fathers fell in the Manchild Massacre. Today is not the day you fall. Perhaps one day you will meet your end at the tip of one of their cruel gardening spades, but not today. Today is when they fall hilariously because their heads are so close to the ground already and the distance traveled is so short.

Stand tall, comrades, friends, soldiers, brothers! With legs proportionate to our bodies we stand! With arms and hands adequate to our size we hold firm to the belief that all men and all women are created equal, except for our wee oppressors that must stack two on top of one another to look us eye to eye! So it actually takes two of them to equal one of us. Technically, we are all created equal, but some are only fractionally equivalent!

Brothers and sisters, stand! Brothers and sisters, fight! Brothers and sisters, this is the day the Tall will stand against the Small for the liberation and liberty of all the downtrodden!It probably won’t come to that, though. So I don’t have a problem with littler people. Or their Scamperers.

- Amsterdam