+ Welcome to The Big Jewel, your fervent Apple evangelist. This week our good friend Trevor Macomber gives a shout out to some lesser known recent products of the mighty Mac factory.

A Review Of Some Of The Less Heralded Apple Products Debuting During Steve Jobs’ Leave Of Absence

By: Trevor Macomber

iMack Truck
Apple’s largest — and therefore most useful — portable media player is designed for extreme audio/videophiles who may already own multiple iPods and yet always seem to need just a little bit more when it comes to storing their collection. With 3,000 cubic feet of cargo space (not including cab), the iMack Truck is capable of accommodating 8 billion songs, 13 billion photos, and nine thousand years of video on 31 petabytes of storage. (Not all at the same time, of course; that would just be ridiculous.) Though the initial response has been positive, some analysts worry about the iMack’s potential market share, as it is necessarily restricted to consumers with a Class A commercial driver’s license and HazMat certification.

iSing
Billed as the world’s first truly edible musical instrument (whistle pops and the short-lived trom-bonbon not withstanding), iSing is a remarkable cake frosting engineered to play a different musical note with each ambrosial bite. In a revolutionary application of fledgling nanotechnology, Apple scientists have succeeded in trapping tonal vibrations within the rigid molecular structure of sugar crystals. When freed from their crystalline confines by a musician’s discerning bite, the vibrations are released into the atmosphere, where they form that bit of aural poetry collectively known as “music.” Of course, given the inherent scale of nanotechnology, it is more or less impossible to actually play any recognizable songs with iSing, as even the most delicate nibble results in an explosion of hundreds of discordant notes and chords—a veritable comestible cacophony! On the plus side, given each melody’s relative minutia and our eardrums’ relative gigantism, it would take approximately one thousand people eating iSing-covered cake at the same time in an enclosed space to produce any audible sounds anyway. Still though, the world’s first edible musical instrument. Wow!

iAtollah
Although not expected to do particularly high volume in the infidel-laden West, Apple hopes that this nifty little gizmo will jump-start flagging sales in the Mesopotamian region, particularly in Iran, where the Apple brand has suffered greatly from an unpopular biblical connotation. While no one is quite sure what the iAtollah is, exactly, inside sources confirm that it should fit easily in the pocket of any thobe, abaya, salwar kameez, or Jordanian Jilab while maintaining the ability to issue a nonnegotiable fatwa against the idolatrous heathen of your choice at a moment’s notice.

iSod
Created by the short-lived Apple spin-off, CrabApple, iSod was intended to make yard work more appealing to the 12-and-under crowd by proving that green wasn’t the only color that a lawn could look good in. However, a worldwide recall implemented after independent quality control agents discovered a massive infestation of African termites living in the inaugural batch led to CrabApple’s rapid dissolution. Chalk one up for the anti-outsourcing argument.

iBelieveiCanFly
George Foreman, eat your reduced-fat heart out. There’s a new minority celebrity pitchman in town, and his name is Robert Sylvester Kelly. Although originally marketed as another genre-busting, demographic-blurring R. Kelly/Celine Dion collaboration in the form of an iMYourAngel JetPack, a last minute contract dispute and Dion’s subsequent dismissal from the project led to a hasty rechristening just days before the propulsion unit’s premiere. Despite setbacks, there is no doubt that the newly dubbed iBelieveiCanFly (or iBiCF, for short) will set a new standard in personal aviation, providing reliable, self-controlled flight for aspiring R&B singers and micturating sex tape stars alike. With a five point cross-suspension safety harness, dual turbo CO2 compressors, and adjustable electro-kinetic wings, iBiCF is sure to be a big hit with anyone who’s been feeling trapped in the closet, not to mention any nine-to-fivers looking to circumvent the bump n’ grind of the daily commute. Plus, with an iBiCF jetpack, leery Lotharios will never have to worry about sharing the same girl again, not when they’ve got their very own pocket rocket to blast her into orgasmic orbit. And since you don’t need a pilot’s license to turn the ignition on this one, the fiesta can begin as soon as your credit card is approved. (Then again, if you’re a gigolo making lots of dough, you might want to strongly consider paying cash in this transaction, as any paper trail is bound to be regretted once the warranty expires and all iBiCF titleholders are automatically charged with 14 counts of soliciting a minor for sexual intercourse.)

iBall
In a surprising attempt to rapidly generate enough capital to fund deployment of its new 3H network, Apple is now charging existing iPhone customers a monthly service fee for each eyeball in their head at the time of purchase. Despite initial industry skepticism, consumer complaints have so far been kept to a minimum thanks to generous program features such as unlimited night vision and dilation, free rollover blinking, and 20/20 hindsight on weekends and national holidays. Can you see me now?

* Welcome to The Big Jewel, where Halloween is our second favorite holiday (after Guy Fawkes Day). And we can think of no better way to scare off the little monsters than with Frank Ferri's latest.

Please Take One

By: Frank Ferri

Happy Halloween!

Please read the following carefully, then tick the box next to your name using the pen that’s attached to a chain — and an alarm system. Checking that box confirms that you accept and agree to my Trick or Treating terms and conditions. If you don’t tick the box, chaos could ensue.

Sorry I can’t personally hand you your one piece of candy, but I’m hiding in the house. Why do today’s costumes have to be so scary? Especially those High School Musical characters!

Anyway, I’m trusting in the honor system by leaving this cauldron of goodies on my porch. It goes against my better judgment after last year’s fiasco when I woke up on November 1 to find my name (and a not very nice word preceding it) spelled out in unsalted peanuts on my driveway. I know you spearheaded that roguery, Jimmy Fulton!

This year, I’ve caved. I’ll be giving out candy instead of peanuts. When I was a kid, I was glad to get any nut — salted or otherwise — for free. But “Generation Y Can’t I Have Candy?” made it abundantly clear that only junk food is acceptable.

Here’s a quick guide to the Trick or Treating fun at my house:

— Anyone inside the parameters of Marshall Avenue down to Amherst Way and Cardiff Drive to Granville Lane is welcome to celebrate Halloween with my candy. (It sounds overly restrictive, but if I open the markers of delineation beyond these streets, chaos will ensue.)

— Odd-numbered houses from 3 p.m. – 4 p.m.

— Even-numbered houses from 4:01 p.m. – 5 p.m.

— Houses that are prime numbers, please don’t step foot on my property. I’m sorry, it’s just this thing I have.

— The impish troika of Jimmy Fulton, Keith Starr and Lawrence Morris: don’t even think of taking my candy. I have strategically placed cameras and people watching you — and attack dogs trained to recognize your scent.

Just a few things to note before you take your one piece of candy:

Each week for the past two months, I’ve taken out an ad in the weekly paper announcing my official Halloween Website: frankferri.com/halloween2009. So it should come as no surprise that you needed to register online before visiting my home today. I also let people know not to come near my property on Mischief Night because I don’t suffer pranksters. If you were shot with a BB last night, I can only say that you were forewarned.

If you haven’t registered on the site, you can do so now by running home and logging onto frankferri.com/halloween2009. If you’re spoiled and have your own portable Web-capable device (and a portable scanner and a notary public with you), you can register right now on my porch. Just step aside and let those who followed the rules get their one piece of candy without delay.

Knowing the dullards in my neighborhood — no offense, neighbors — I probably have to repeat this: To register, you needed to enter your phone number, house number and your name exactly as it appears on your parents’ tax return. You also needed to scan and upload your Social Security Card as well as a piece of mail as proof of address. Everything should be notarized.

If you registered, you would have seen the dancing Candy Corn (animated by yours truly), prompting you to choose your one piece of candy from the drop-down menu in the upper-right corner of the screen. You were to have made a selection and so it could be added to your virtual Trick or Treat bag. The candy you actually take must correspond with the selection you made on the Website. Otherwise, chaos will ensue. (If you visited the TIPS & TREATS section on the Website, you’d have seen a tip telling you to print out your virtual Trick or Treat bag so you remember which piece of candy you selected.) I listed the candy in alphabetical order along with nutrition information for the Type 1 diabetic in our neighborhood, little Danny Cardiff. God bless him. But there’s no need to call attention to his incurable illness. Diabetic Danny is just like anyone else. He just can’t have as much fun on Halloween. Or Easter. Or any other sugar-focused holiday.

As you know, I keep things fun each year with a theme. Last year was “Peanuts: An Unsalted Love Story.” This year’s theme is “Ex Ovo Omnia.” So the candy is all different eggs. You’d be surprised how many creme-, caramel- and peanut butter-filled eggs are available even though it’s not Easter.

Kids get all sugared-up and have the potential to turn this fun holiday into an opera bouffe, so I bought a biometric device to keep things running smoothly. The optical fingerprint scanner was going to ensure that everyone got the right egg. But someone (Fulton!) broke into my shed and smashed it beyond repair. The DNA collection drive — which was also going to help avert chaos — was a failure. Turnout was embarrassingly low. (Thank you, Mark Olsen, for being the only one to show up. I wish I could have let you take two pieces of candy, but my Website is pretty basic and I didn’t have time to include some sort of coupon code functionality that would let you override the one candy limit.)

To the left of the candy, you’ll notice a copper samovar. It’s filled with warm homemade cider. If you’ve brought your own drinking vessel (this was mentioned under the TIPS & TREATS section), you’re more than welcome to have one cup. Just make sure it’s no more than a six-ounce serving. Otherwise, chaos will ensue.

As you can tell, I am very worried that chaos will ensue. You’d worry too if someone filled your gas tank with Peanut M&Ms (Halloween 2006). Or if one day, you found that someone left a colorful chair on your porch, ostensibly as a gift. But when you sat in it, you realized (too late) that it was a bunch of gummi worms woven together in the shape of a chair, and you crashed to the ground injuring your tailbone (Halloween 2007). Or when you go to get your morning paper and find unsalted peanuts mocking you in your driveway — well, I already went into that one. The point is that sadly, chaos does too often ensue.

Happy Halloween!

* Welcome to The Big Jewel, also known as the sport of kings. This week once again we feature the king of sports, football, as manifested in its favorite son Brett Favre. Consider this piece by our good friend Greg Boose the second in our two-part series on the not so retiring quarterback.

eBay Case Details for Minnesota Vikings Poker Chip Guard Protector

By: Greg Boose

Case details

Item: Minnesota Vikings Poker Chip and Guard Protector
Transaction end: Oct-11-09
Seller: BrettF4
Buyer: GregB
Case Type: Unpaid Item
Case status: Open

Messages

eBay: BrettF4 has opened an Unpaid Item case for “Minnesota Vikings Poker Chip and Guard Protector.” Please pay for the item or respond to the seller before Oct-31-2009.

GregB: Hey man, sorry I didn’t follow through with this purchase. The fact is that I was doing some research for a humor article I wanted to write, I came across this silly poker chip thing and its superfluous plastic case, and then one of my cats walked across my keyboard. Apparently he made me hit the “Buy It Now” button and then confirmed it with a back paw. Ridiculous, I know, but the truth. I will not be buying this item. I’m not even a Vikings fan (Go Browns!). Thanks for understanding and please close this case.

BrettF4: Hello, GregB. That’s funny about your cat, but the fact is that the button was still pushed and you are now committed under eBay rules to buy this Minnesota Vikings Poker Chip and Guard Protector. When you commit to something, anything, you must follow through. You cannot waver. People around the country, around the world, in Vegas for sure, will be affected by your decision. So the sooner you buy this (perfect condition) poker chip and its important (minor scratch) protector, the easier it will be on everyone. Although, after talking about it with my close friends and God, me keeping the poker chip could be a really good thing for me and my family.

GregB: Listen, BrettF4, I get where you’re coming from — the “Buy It Now” button was officially hit — but there’s no way I’m buying this item. Number one: What the hell would I do with a poker chip that has the Minnesota Vikings logo on it? Number two: Why would I need a plastic guard protector for it? I’m not 11 years old. I do not have a shelf in my condo for embarrassing sports memorabilia. I did not push the “Buy It Now” button on purpose. Let it go and put it back up for sale. Thanks.

BrettF4: I’m not going to lie to you, I believe that the returning of my poker chip to my collection would be great for me. I can’t see how it wouldn’t be. But if you’re going to criticize me for saying I’m going to take the thing back and then for me saying that you are obligated to buy it now, then don’t open your email and read these messages. If you’re a true poker chip fan, you’d understand.

GregB: ??? I’m not a poker chip fan; I’m a craps guy. The last thing I collected was Kurt Vonnegut’s entire catalog, and I’m kinda bored with that now. Keep the freaking thing. Me, and my roommates who have to listen to me, are totally over you and your keen ability to string me along with your indecision. Just retire the case already and move on. Leave me alone so we can all focus on other items like my bid to buy your half-bottles of “Vicodin-like, But Not Vicodin, Candy Pills.”

BrettF4: I’m happy about my decision and I haven’t once said, “I wonder if I made the wrong decision to sell this Vikings Poker Chip and its Guard Protector.” I know it’s the right one. I still have the itch. I AM RETIRING.

GregB: Dude, you’re losing me here. It’s almost like you are confusing me on purpose because you love all the attention you’re getting from me, and most likely from your other buyers. It’s narcissistic and isn’t as exciting as you must think it is. Are you saying that you are retiring from the idea of selling it, or are you going to continue to be vague and give me an “Unpaid Item” strike on my account? Because that would totally blow.

BrettF4: What don’t you understand? That I’m un-retiring from the idea of selling this amazing poker chip and protector guard? Or the fact that I’m officially retiring from being a collector of NFL poker chips and their protector guards?

GregB: Ugh. Confused…Please make up your mind of what you’re going to do. I think I’m going to close this eBay account.

BrettF4: GregB, I’ve given everything I can to this collection, to collecting as a whole, and I don’t think I have anything left to give. That’s it. I’m too old for this stuff. I know I can still collect, but I don’t know if I still want to. As I look back on my career in poker chips and their protector guards, and on my career with NFL memorabilia, I have no regrets. Also, hey, would you be interested in selling me back that Minnesota Vikings Poker Chip Guard and Protector for my collection?

GregB: Wait. Dammit. You want me to sell you that stupid piece of crap back? I haven’t even officially bought it.

BrettF4: Everyone who I’ve talked to; former collectors, poker players who use novelty chips, and people I accosted on the street who I begged to talk about me in the third person as if they were on SportsCenter said if I wanted to get back into it this, then the Minnesota Vikings chip is a perfect fit. It really is. Once again there’s no guarantee, but I have a really good collection of memorabilia going here with one New York Jets frisbee and several Packers beer koozies, plus I have an intention of getting my hands on a Tampa Bay Bucs iPhone case next year, and from my standpoint, I feel like I could offer some real collectible selling experience and leadership. I have to admit, through this whole process, after I said no seven days ago, at times I was okay with it but at other times I felt like I could really collect all 32 NFL poker chips, and I think that’s the competitive fire in me. As a collector, regardless of theme, you have to feel like you can make a difference. I truly feel like I can, so I just didn’t want to look back. I have no idea how I will feel a year from now, five years from now, 10 years from now. But I didn’t want to say, “What if I still had that Vikings chip and protector guard?”

GregB: For the love of God, keep it, please. It’s all yours. You are one frustrating eBayer to deal with, you know that?

BrettF4: Yeah, I’ve made mistakes along the way, we all have. But if I had to do it all over again, I would do it the same way.

eBay: This case is closed. The buyer and seller have agreed not to complete the transaction.

* Welcome to The Big Jewel, the undeniable sports news hub for the entire civilized world...whatever that is. In a better world than this one, perhaps famed quarterback Brett Favre would retire and stay retired. But we have to live in this world, and that means we have to watch Brett Favre go through retirements the way Larry King goes through wives young enough to be his granddaughters.

The Unretiring Brett Favre

By: David Martin

Having retired and un-retired twice in the last two years, one thing is clear: Brett Favre still has a lot more football to play. Here’s a brief peek into the all-star quarterback’s future:

October 14, 2009

Having turned 40 on Saturday, Brett Favre decides to retire once again. “I’ve accomplished just about all I can here with the Vikings,” said Favre. “So there’s really not much point in continuing.” Favre defeated the Packers a week ago Monday, making him the first quarterback in history to beat all 32 NFL teams. “Mission accomplished,” said the aging quarterback. “My only regret is that I was unable to add to my all-time interceptions record.”

October 31, 2009

Brett Favre reconsiders and returns to the Minnesota Vikings. “Just my idea of a little Halloween treat,” quipped Favre. “Since we’re playing the Packers again tomorrow at Lambeau Field, I thought I’d try to add to all my career records including my total interceptions.”

November 1, 2009

Immediately following the Packers crushing victory over the Vikings, Brett Favre once again announces his retirement. “I have to be honest and say I was not only disappointed by the game score but also by my inability to add to my records,” said Favre. “Mind you, you can’t add to records if you’re sitting on the bench the whole time.”

August 7, 2010

Brett Favre is inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame. The all-star quarterback graciously accepts the honor and proudly enters the Hall as a Green Bay Packer.

August 8, 2010

Brett Favre resigns from the Pro Football Hall of Fame. “It’s not that I didn’t appreciate the honor,” said Favre. “But I have to admit that I’ve got my eye set on an even higher accolade: membership in the International Football Hall of Fame.”

August 9, 2010

Informed that the International Football Hall of Fame only covers soccer and never really got off the ground, Brett Favre announces that he will seek reinstatement in the Pro Football Hall of Fame and possibly the Baseball Hall of Fame as well.

October 31, 2034

On his 65th birthday, Brett Favre announces that he is once again coming out of retirement, this time to join the newly formed World Wheelchair Football League. “Thanks to my many years in the NFL,” said Favre. “I’m not that mobile anymore although I can get around pretty good in a wheelchair.” Hoping to be the starting quarterback with the Detroit Wheels, Favre is looking to set a whole new bunch of football records.

February 23, 2044

Brett Favre once again announces his retirement, this time from the Pinegrove Manor seniors’ residential home in Sheboygen, Wisconsin. “I put in a good six years with Pinegrove,” said Favre. “And I think I’ve accomplished all that I can in that position.” Favre, however, wouldn’t rule out the possibility of joining another seniors’ home in the near future. “I’m open to any reasonable offers,” said the aging footballer.

June 13, 2056

Brett Favre retires from life and accepts an offer to play for the Heavenly All-Stars, a celestial team of former NFL greats.

June 14, 2056

Informed that he will be the third-string quarterback behind Johnny Unitas and Otto Graham, Brett Favre resigns from the Heavenly All-Stars. “Yes, I’m disappointed,” said Favre. “But I’m sure that there are plenty of other teams that will recognize my special talents.”

June 16, 2056

General Manager Satan announces the signing of one Brett Favre as the starting quarterback for his team: Hell’s Raiders. “We like what we see in Mr. Favre,” said Satan. “And we’re hoping he can play for us for eternity.” “I’m pleased to join the team,” said Favre. “But I can’t really make a commitment much beyond the next millennium.”

* Welcome to The Big Jewel, where we know an emergency when we see one. However, like Kent Woodyard (who makes his first appearance at our site this week), we're not sure we know a trustworthy emergency contact when we see one. Better take this simple exam...

Before I Put You As My Emergency Contact, There Are Some Things I Need To Know

By: Kent Woodyard

1) Do you have permission to leave the state?

2) It’s three p.m. on a Wednesday. What are the chances you are too intoxicated to operate a forklift?

3) Please check any of the following that you own (should not be less than three):

* freeze-dried ice cream

* SpongeBob Band-Aids

* defibrillation paddles

* falsified foreign passports

* the book of Revelation (rest of Bible not necessary)

* ingredients for s’mores

* riot gear

* a panic room

4) Fill in the blank: There is literally nothing I wouldn’t do for my good friend, Kent. Yes, I would give him (one/both/all) of my ______________ if he asked for (it/them/her).

5) How many times have you read Kill It and Grill It: Ted and Shemane Nugent’s Guide to Preparing & Cooking Wild Game and Fish? (If you have not read it, please explain.)

6) Using the attached paper, describe in 500 words or less what “persistent, vegetative state” means to you. As part of your answer, please address the following scenario:

A friend is knocked unconscious during a mountain biking accident. His injuries are minimal and he will likely make a full recovery in a matter of hours. That being said, he was recently fired and dumped on the same day and has been growing increasingly dissatisfied with the quality of his life. Also, he has $23.00 and an Applebee’s gift card in his wallet. Would this qualify as a “difficult end-of-life decision?”

7) Rate from 1 to 5 your comfort with executing the following tasks:

* Cardiopulmonary resuscitation

* Forging a prescription

* Performing gender reassignment surgery in a typically-stocked Western kitchen

* Cutting the crust off a grilled cheese sandwich

* Firing an automatic weapon while riding in a motorcycle sidecar

* Amphibious evacuation from a hostile beachhead

* Conferring the Roman Catholic Last Rites or “Anointing of the Sick” from memory

8) Remember that episode in Band of Brothers that follows the medic around? You know, the one where Easy Company is under heavy artillery fire and a bunch of guys get killed by shrapnel and flying pieces of exploded trees and what not? Yeah, that one. List at least three things you would have done differently to prevent unnecessary amputation or death.

9) The Department of Homeland Security has placed the national threat advisory level for all domestic and international flights at Orange. Do you have any idea what that means?

10) Please list in order the parts of the human body you imagine being the tastiest.

11) Please estimate (in days) how long you would be able to keep yourself and one other person alive in the following environments:

* Baghdad

* Englewood

* Destin, Florida, during Spring Break

* Vatican City circa 1500

* Lollapalooza

* The gorilla habitat at the San Diego Zoo

* The Texas State Fair

* Jurassic Park

12) Can you be here in five minutes?

* Welcome to The Big Jewel, the last refuge of boomer humor. Were your parents baby boomers? Were they, by any chance, hippies? Are you (God help you!) a hippie? If you answer yes to any of these questions, you need the help of a certified expert, Amy York Rubin.

What Have You Become? The Do-It-Yourself Quiz That Maybe If Your Hippie Parents Had Taken You Wouldn’t Have To

By: Amy York Rubin

There was a time in your life when the only thing that made you angrier than finding chicken bits in the communal, vegan wok was when certain aspiring writers who might name John Irving as their idol refused to replace “he/she” with “s/he.” But then you failed to internalize Cornell West. Cornell West started showing up on Bill Maher. And BAM! “charter schools” joined “professional athlete” on certain children’s “your only way out” list. And somehow you were fine with that.

At this point it is indisputable that you are indeed going through that change. I am talking about that change that is capable of taking a perfectly stubborn individual and turning her into a star pupil in the patriarch’s school of sociopolitical norms. It’s the same change that once transformed flower children into champions of privatization and quiet critics of the public option.

But it’s not too late. You don’t have to buy from the registry just yet. No one is forcing you to agree that the woman in the corner office is indeed the perfect baby-bearing age. In fact, regardless of the unwelcome appearance of your first few grays and genetically inevitable saddlebags, it is still possible to be a firm believer in the dogma of social constructs and creed of ant-hegemonies. However, if you don’t stop and look at the monster you’re poised to become today, it could be too late tomorrow.

All you need to do is take a moment, answer these six, simple multiple choice questions and find out just how close you are to waking up in a Pottery Barn-furnished McMansion.

1. During casual discussions of the Obama Administration’s economic stimulus package you:

a. Regurgitate Krugman or Gibbs. If it’s not in your morning talking points (ie: The New York Times) then it’s not a viable option.

b. Are unable to contribute to the discussion because frequency with which the word “package” is used in such close proximity to “stimulus” keeps you too internally amused.

c. Never engage in the conversation because you do not want to validate the label “Administration” because that would suggest your complicity with a two-party system.

2. When your twenty-two year old niece incessantly insists that one out of every two thousand births is indeed an intersexed baby you:

a. Balk and remind her that if she stops defining herself as “gender queer” on her law school applications you’ll introduce her to the Dean at Georgetown.

b. Offer her another Jack and Coke as a means of demonstrating your acceptance of her obvious sexuality.

c. Pull out the diagram that you keep in your wallet that illustrates how “reconstructive” infant genital surgery is in fact drastically under reported.

3. During the Miss California USA gay marriage bruhaha you:

a. Agreed with Jon Stewart’s “leave the slut alone” rant because Jon Stewart is always right on the money. ALWAYS.

b. You don’t understand this question because you’re still watching Miss South Carolina’s 2007 comments on “U.S. Americans.'”

c. Can barely get the words “Loving v. Virginia” and “miscegenation” out fast enough to explain what would have happened had Miss California expressed her personal view that blacks should refrain from marrying whites.

4. When Netanyahu won you:

a. Were bummed the Livni didn’t pull through but renewed your AIPAC membership just to be on the safe side.

b. Were too immersed in Purim party pre-planning to even try and identify the 157 billion candidates that ran.

c. Spent the following three months mass-emailing Yoni Goodman’s “Closed Zone” video and signing up for Audre Lorde’s Israel boycott.

5. At your sister’s bridal shower you:

a. Made one of your most impressive bouquets yet using a paper plate and ribbons.

b. Played air hockey with her fourteen year-old cousin in the basement the entire time. Your mother was not amused.

c. Staged a sit-in on the front lawn with the catering service. If the sex workers unionized than so can caterers.

6. Obama is:

a. Black.

b. Mixed

c. Obviously this is a trap.

Scoring Key & Recovery Recommendations:

Mostly As: You’re practically your mother. After, long after, Woodstock. Not before.

Look, I’m not going to sugar coat this. You have a lot of work to do. You have handed the steering wheel of your life over to a proverbial culture validation admissions team. Regaining control will not be easy. I suggest immediately employing the Chicago Boys approach. You will need to shock yourself into a suitable state of numbness from which you can then begin the rebuilding process. Your shock therapy might include a long lunch at the Cheescake Factory and of course some type of ‘tini with the girls. Keep this up and soon enough you’ll be ready to revisit the Scum Manifesto with highlighter in hand.

Mostly Bs: You’re practically your mother. At Woodstock. Perpetually.

You have certainly veered off track but luckily your sensory receptors seem to have absorbed very little over the last ten years so it’s really not that big of a deal. At this juncture in your life my only recommendation is to treat yourself a little. Splurge. Cancel your Jdate subscription and put the money into something that you know will make you happy, instead of something that can only ever fulfill you in theory.

Mostly Cs: You’re practically your mother. Had she decided to move west instead of southeast after Woodstock.

Not bad, C, not bad. You have managed to stay focused in spite of a full-fledged multi-lateral attack by an army of culturally normative soldiers. You are a true warrior. You are also exhausted. You don’t know how much longer you can keep up the fight. Lately, you are even starting to wonder why fight at all. Why not just surrender to the masses and bathe yourself in the societal approvals that will inevitably flow like the sangria at your bff’s engagement party. You are experiencing these impulses not because surrender is imminent but because you’re alone in this thankless cultural battle. You need to get out of the line of fire, change it up a little and find a support team. Don’t waste any more time. Stop staring at the onesies in the window. It’s a mirage. And for god’s sake, don’t let the public service debt-repayment plans lure you into their grip — it’s a trap. Turn and run. You will find others eventually. But for now, just run.

* Welcome to The Big Jewel, where America shops for literary humor and seldom gets a discount. This week we'd like to introduce Summer Block, a young woman whose relationship with IKEA may be just a tad too intimate and meaningful.

Our Bodies, Our Shelves: An Emotional Mapping of IKEA

By: Summer Block

Welcome to IKEA, where sleek modern design is married to cost-cutting ingenuity and presented in the calmly cheerful spirit of Swedish social democracy. Please take the escalator upstairs to begin your harrowing emotional journey.

ENTRYWAY: Bafflement, Optimism

Take a deep breath. Enjoy the bright colors, the smell of lingonberry, and the perplexing but strangely persuasive signage. Give yourself over to the arrows painted on the floor. Grab a tape measure and a big yellow bag — let’s get shopping!

Look for: Golf pencils. Tealights.

Avoid: Weekend crowds.

LIVING ROOM: Seduction, Hesitation

Come on, that’s a great price for a real leather sofa. One that isn’t redolent with your last girlfriend’s perfume. But how will you get it into your car? And who exactly will help you move that thing upstairs? A sofa seems like a big commitment. Maybe another day.

Look for: Futon covers. Fabric cleaner. TV trays. Maybe a POÄNG chair.

Avoid: TYLÖSAND. EKTORP. KRAMFORS.

STORAGE: Commitment, Resolve

Isn’t it time you had a place to put two and a half years’ worth of Baudrillard? $39.99 is very reasonable. Who ever looks at the back of a bookcase anyway?

Look for: BILLY. OMAR. CD towers.

Avoid: TV units. Custom shelving. LACK tables.

DINING ROOM: Admiration, Self-Doubt

You can’t be serious. You’re practically forty. Will you ever be the kind of person who has a sideboard?

Look for: Drop-leaf tables. Kitchen carts. Cork trivets.

Avoid: TROLLSTA.

OFFICE: Disbelief, Envy

Slowly circle a standing draftsmen desk with an etched glass top. Imagine a lifestyle where you’d actually use this desk. This office furniture was designed for the kind of jobs people have in Sweden, jobs like coding first-person-shooter video games and designing clever plastic clothes hangers. Buy a clever plastic hanger for your barista apron.

Look for: Magazine racks. Magnets. Mousepads. A bewildering series of brackets.

Avoid: Integrated lighting. VIKA.

BEDROOM: Nostalgia, Remorse

Remember when you had that awesome bunk bed? Whatever happened to that anyway? Remember when you were still buying sheets for two? The chiropractor warned you about that futon.

Look for: Orthopedic pillows. A throw blanket. A shoe cubby.

Avoid: Mirrors. Duvet covers. The PAX system.

KIDS: Indecision, Resentment

If you’re still buying items for yourself, you aren’t ready. You are too old for the ball pit. You won’t change his mind by showing him that adorable rocking horse. He already knows you’re hiding a bag full of bibs in the shoe cubby.

Look for: Puppets. Bed canopies. Finger paint.

Avoid: Lingering.

CAFE: Respite, Estrangement

Take a break and enjoy a coffee in front of a jewel-green mural of a family reindeer farm. Wonder why all the other couples look so happy. How long has that gravlax been sitting out?

Look for: Meatballs.

Avoid: Eye contact.

HEAD DOWNSTAIRS: Resignation

Okay, maybe it’s too soon to invest in a sofa or floor-to-ceiling CD rack. Maybe you two aren’t ready. Our downstairs Marketplace is filled with small, affordable items that can be easily shipped, sold, traded, or shoved tearfully into a duffel bag.

KITCHENWARES: Celebration, Deflation

Who needs kids? Be happy you’re a single, sophisticated adult! Why not host a dinner party? Invite everyone over for sushi. Do you really need place settings for twelve? Whatever happened to all your old friends?

Look for: Martini shakers. Ashtrays. Things with sharp metal edges.

Avoid: Cookie sheets. Plasticware.

TEXTILES: Comfort, Self-sufficiency

Snuggle up with some new sheets and pillows. No one is going to argue about pillows! A rug, on the other hand, is a big commitment. Maybe you want to buy some fabric by the yard and make your own curtains? Now is the time to embark on new projects. You probably know someone who has a sewing machine — now is the time to read that copy of MAKE you’ve been using as a coaster.

Look for: Floor pillows. Roman blinds. Sheep skins. Throw rugs.

Avoid: Area rugs. FLOKATI. FÅBORG.

BATHROOM: Despair, Renewal

Have a quick cry. Wipe it off on a bath towel. Pick up a new shower curtain — your new life begins today!

Look for: Toothbrush holders. Soap dispensers. Bath mats. Small metal boxes.

Avoid: Soiled bath towels.

LIGHTING: Creativity, Defensiveness

What about track lighting? Nothing says “grown up” like track lighting. Or maybe a touch of whimsy in the form of a glowing plastic orb? A person’s home sends a message, and right now you’d gladly pay $200 for any lamp that says, “Seriously, I’m glad I got that MFA.”

Look for: Compact fluorescent light bulbs. Batteries. Flammable paper lanterns.

Avoid: Novelty lighting. Incandescents.

DECORATION: Exuberance, Self-expression

Today is the day you start anew. How about filling one whole window with tiny prisms? Or a series of red aluminum mobiles? Remember those decorative rattan balls you used to have on the coffee table? What were you thinking?

Look for: Posters of the San Francisco skyline. Very narrow vases. Tealights. Tealight holders.

Avoid: Fake flowers. GESTALTA.

PETS AND PLANTS: Postponement, Failure

Let’s be frank. Why not just get a plant? Can’t be trusted with a plant? Get a plastic one. Or a $70 chaise lounge for your dachsund. What exactly are you saving up for?

Look for: Lint rollers. Bamboo. Squeak toys.

Avoid: Bags of decorative pebbles. Macramé.

STOCK ROOM: Breathlessness, Scapular Dislocation

Six years ago you were on the rugby team and now you can’t lift a disassembled ottoman? What happened to you?

Avoid: Lifting with your back.

Look for: Help.

CASH REGISTERS: Vacillation, Recklessness

I thought you were on a budget. Is that credit card still okay? How did you wind up spending a thousand dollars? What the hell is an EKTORP? Why do you have so many tealights?

Avoid: Collection agency.

Look for: More tealights.

GROCERY: Morbid curiosity, National pride

It’s not all clean water and nationalized health care. Let the grocery aisles remind you exactly why you don’t want to live in Scandinavia.

Look for: Knäckebröd. Herring. Aquavit.

Avoid: All of it.

PARKING LOT: Relief, Exhaustion

Why is a thirty-six-year-old college graduate still driving his mother’s old Volvo? Should you have just gone to law school?

Look for: Allen wrenches. Twine.

Avoid: Crying.

* Welcome to The Big Jewel, where old memories go to be laughed to death. This week one of our own associate editors, Tyler Smith, does his best Marcel Proust impersonation.

À la Recherche du Texas Temps Perdu

By: Tyler Smith

Austin, Lauren’s driveway, 2009: “I’m wildly attracted to you,” I say, moving closer. “You smell like prime rib plus Jolly Ranchers,” she says. I lose heart. There will be no kiss. They don’t kiss at Exposé Gentleman’s Club. But those kittens play close. And do not judge.

Laredo, 1983: A man wrestles on a street corner with a giant squid. On closer inspection, it’s not a squid, it’s a hemorrhoid.

Marfa, 4:00 a.m., 2007: I pass a nude man carrying a box of donuts. He gives me a thumbs-up. I wonder why. Turns out, I’m nude, too, but I have no donuts. The next day I will go to AA.

Galveston, 2000: There’s something on my line! I reel it in. It’s a decaying corpse. I never catch anything good. The next day, I catch crabs from a toilet in Surfside.

Nuevo Laredo, 1999: I am an expatriate! I’ve done it — made the move. I read Les Miserables in one sitting. I drink wine out of a box, internationally. My friends argue that even though I’m an American, there’s no excuse for emptying my bowels into a box of wine. Also, it seems we haven’t yet crossed the border.

Houston, Buffalo Bayou, 1985: “Pick it up, Adam — let’s make it our friend or our mascot or something!” Later, at Ben Taub hospital, “He’s lucky he’s not dead.” A water moccasin should have a different name. They don’t work like shoes do. And a moccasin is a stupid kind of shoe.

San Antonio, The Alamo, 2001: I bribe the guard with pesetas, then pounds, then Euros. “Where can we find Pancho Villa’s bunker,” I ask. “Huh,” he says. Alas, the Starbucks is closed. Where can I find a latte? Drugs and Texas history do not mix.

Archer City, 2004: The Lonesome Dove Inn is teeming with culture. I espy Gabriel García Márquez, a little tipsy, asking passers-by for money. “Maestro!” I shout. “Mange d’la marde!” he replies, then punches me in the nose. Larry McMurtry is a douche bag. So is the hobo that punched me.

Houston, TX, 1986: The Challenger has exploded. Channel 11 News has come to our school to interview students — gauge our reactions. “What does this mean to you?” asks the comely reporter. “No school tomorrow?” I reply, hopefully. They edit out my spot and that uppity 4th grade bitch, Laurie, makes the news.

Amarillo, 1984: The Civic Center is going wild. “Ama-effin-rillo!!” shouts Dee Snider of Twisted Sister. Then cops, then show’s over, with nary a chord struck. Then my brother and his roommate in the parking lot eating whipped cream. They loved whipped cream. Now they’re acting funny and I feel like maybe I’m in control.

Dallas, 1982: “Hey kid, you want a cigarette?” asks the man at the hotel bar. “Yes!” I exclaim. “Hey, don’t you dare do that” barks my father. A right cross, then a thud. I wish my Dad were a better fighter.

Nuevo Laredo, 1999: They say there are two kinds of herpes, but only one kind makes your girlfriend break up with you. Again, it appears we have yet to cross the border. I’m getting fed up with Laredo.

Austin, 2009: I have gazed at the art of grief. The margarita machine is broken. I won’t laugh again until I smell like Jolly Ranchers and prime rib.

Welcome to The Big Jewel, now Bigger and Jewel-eyer than ever! It's only the second week of our redesigned site. Can you stand the excitement? Well, we can't. In fact, we think we're having a heart attack. And that's not too far from what's happening to this week's author, Ralph Gamelli...

Don’t Make Me Angry (You Wouldn’t Like Me When I’m Angry)

By: Ralph Gamelli

Take this as a warning: when I lose my temper, I transform into something not entirely human.

One thing I’ll do in this state is stomp all around the place. You might find this amusing for a few moments, even boyishly charming. But after an hour and a half? Not so much.

I’ll also break stuff — easily breakable things for the most part. So if you’re doing a crossword, it might be wise to hide an extra pencil in your pocket and take it out only after I’ve left the room.

You should know that I’ll furiously drum my fingers against the nearest available surface — a table top, a desk, your face, whatever.

They say I get an enraged expression that really distorts my features. You’ll be tempted to laugh, but don’t. This will get me even angrier, distorting my features all the more, and before you know it, we’ll be locked in an escalating cycle of rage, laughter, rage, laughter, until one of us has an aneurism.

If someone has asked me to feed their fish while they’re away, and then I fly off the handle, there’s a good chance I’ll forget to feed them. Keep that in mind before you ask me.

Undoubtedly I’ll grind my teeth. If we’re someplace quiet, you’ll hear this repetitive _click click click_ sound which I’m told can be incredibly annoying, especially if you’re trying to read.

During particularly bad episodes I’ve been known to call my therapist and tell her all about it, including the name of the person who set me off, even if he or she is right there in the room. If that person is you, it can be pretty awkward.

If there’s a snowman nearby, I’ll knock it over and trample it into a fine powder.

Same thing with a sand castle. Total decimation.

I won’t topple a house of cards, though. Those things take forever to build and, as ferocious as I get during these times, I retain just enough of my humanity to prevent me from going that one step too far.

Don’t be surprised if you hear a grating series of impatient sighs or, if you’re exceptionally unlucky, very loud, sarcastic humming. It won’t even be a real song.

Occasionally, and this is a weird one, I’ll take off my shoe and start pounding the heel into my palm. It hurts like hell and I have no idea why I do it or what it signifies, but I do it anyway.

Once, I got so mad I bit my lip and drew blood. Needless to say, if you’ve got a light-colored carpet, you really don’t want to get on my bad side.

Eventually, of course, I’ll calm down and become just an ordinary, average man again. As I regain control of my senses, I’ll be momentarily disoriented. This is the best time to hit me up for a loan or ask me to feed your fish while you’re away.

SPECIAL NOTE: You may have noticed our site suddenly looks different. That's because it IS different. Webmaster Seth Gow-Jarrett has brought us kicking and screaming into the 21st century, adding all sorts of bells and whistles we've never had before. The most important is the ability to email an article to your friends, family and enemies, thus enabling you to join the ranks of spammers worldwide, a proud and august assemblage. You can now subscribe to The Big Jewel via email, RSS feed or Twitter (other methods will be added as they are outlawed by the Chinese). You can browse the archives by month and year, or by Author Cloud. To see more work by this week's author, simply click on their byline. Our blogroll of affiliated links is easily accessible on our home page and features other humor sites we endorse, including those by our authors. Enjoy! And now, welcome to The Big Jewel, where "Frank Ferri Month" is drawing to a glorious close with week four. This week Mr. Ferri applies his gift of salesmanship to the cereal aisle. Be sure to visit the author's web site: http://www.FrankFerri.com

Moving Product

By: Frank Ferri

Hi! Are you buying or browsing? Great. Name’s Frank. You picked the perfect day to shop for cereal. End of month, deep discounts, movin’ units. You’re looking at Crispy Rice, generic Kellogg’s Rice Krispies. Affordable. But…I shouldn’t. Ah, what the hell. Between you and me, the generic doesn’t stay crispy as long in milk. I could lose my job steering you away from our store brand, but once you drive off the lot with a box, it loses half its value. And if I’m not upfront with you, you’re at the breakfast table with a bowl of mush cursing old Frank Ferri from Aisle 4.

Got kids? Four! And another on the way! No? Well, four’s plenty. I’ve got two. This is Ralph and Victor. That’s at Vic’s fourth birthday. Bronx Zoo. Had a blast. The cereal you’re looking at comes standard with eight vitamins and minerals. Tasty, not overly sweet. I add sliced banana to sneak in a fruit serving. Gotta say, it’s a pleasure dealing with you. We get a lot of guys in their late-40s buying Froot Loops, Count Chocula, kid stuff. Recently divorced, trying to look young again. Sad. Mel over in men’s hair coloring has stories! By the by, you have great taste — love your stylish maternity clothes. Really? Well, nice outfit. Flattering. Have you considered Kellogg’s? Bit pricier, but boasts 217 vitamins and minerals — but don’t quote me on that. Offers the Snap, Crackle and Pop sound system — kids love those guys. Hopefully there’s some units left in the back. Must-have cereal of the season. Oprah featured it.

Yes, there are a lot on the shelf. But I think “hundreds” is an exaggeration. Come back tomorrow? Gone. End of month. Movin’ units. Okay, okay, you want generic. But let me ask you, have you considered anything by General Mills or Post? We carry their entire lines. Golden Grahams and Honeycomb? Incredible incentives. Think Quaker and you think oatmeal, right? Well, they make Life cereal, too — with a Cinnamon option. You can’t go wrong with anything by Kellogg’s, General Mills, or Post. It was just a suggestion; you’re focused on generic. Let me go in the back, talk to my manager, run some numbers. Meanwhile, if you’ll start filling this out.

Okay, so I worked up the figures for the 24-ounce Kellogg’s. Four kids — and what looks like twins coming soon — you’ll want the big box. Oh? Good thing! Four kids are a handful! Here’s the discount I’m giving you on the entire package. This shows you’re upgrading to Kellogg’s because you love your kids. Really? Thought you didn’t want generic. Listen, no one’s beating this price for brand name, family-size Rice Krispies. Kellogg’s won’t let us go below the $5.99 MSRP, so my hands are tied there. I did cut the Destination Charge down. Had to fight for that. Probably gonna come out of my pay, but whatever it takes to put you in some cereal. I’m throwing in Nutrition Information and a Disney DVD offer. See back for details. Proof of purchase required. I could get fired for this, but I’ll honor this expired coupon. Boom! Saved you another 40 cents. That’s the warranty fee — the Kellogg’s customer service number on the side panel. Don’t want the warranty? I’ll black out the number, save you some dough. No pressure on the warranty. But if something happens, we can’t do anything. Gotta go to the manufacturer. That’s the luxury tax. Don’t shoot the messenger! You demanded brand name! And this is for the floor mats. Okay, lose the floor mats. Fair question. The Destination Charge is for getting your cereal to the checkout line. I’m not making anything on this cereal. I’m actually losing money. The generic? You’re an indecisive one! Sticker shock? Brand name’s an investment. With kids, gotta save dinero — even if it comes at the price of their health. Got two kids myself. Alex and Johnny. That’s from Johnny’s third birthday at Queens Zoo. Had a blast. I’ll talk to my manager. But I won’t be able to maneuver the numbers as much with generic.

Okay, manager thinks your best bet is going pre-opened —

That’s strange. Excuse me, sir, did you see a pregnant woman near the Rice Krispies? Never mind. I see you’re looking at Froot Loops. My kinda guy! Who says you have to grow up, right? I only buy Froot Loops and Count Chocula. Any kids? Me neither. Too busy selling cereal — and charming the ladies. Yeah, you know what I’m talking about.