Random posts on general randomness, motivated by a general laziness and ennui.
Blogcritics is hosting a Halloween blog blowout this week-- I suggest you go check it out, not least because I'm a member in good standing of that august body.
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If the aliens arrive and challenge the human race to a rock/paper/scissors match.
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Last night I watched a re-run of Thursday, Oct 23's "The Daily Show With John Stewart", on which the guest was Walter Isaacson discussing his book, Benjamin Franklin: An American Life.
I already think "The Daily Show" is one of the best shows on television. The quality of the actual news reportage is incredibly high, as is the quality of the interviews. What other show do you know whose recent guests include Michael Moore, Ann Coulter, Sean Hannity, Hillary Clinton, John Edwards, and Rowan Atkinson?
Anyway, last night I had an epiphany. We, the geeks, are in charge and "The Daily Show" is our salon. It's not the Jews. It's not the Illuminati. It's not even Clear Channel. It's the geeks. Last night, for a brief second the mask slipped aside and we revealed our utter hegemony to the world. Last night, while discussing Benjamin Franklin on a basic-cableshow known for fake comedy news stories, Walter Isaacson without fanfare or explanation uttered the word "antinomian."
Damn, it feels good to be in charge.
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In a spectacular profile in the New Yorker, head Saturday Night Live writer Tina Fey nails the mercurial nature of fame and legacy. Warning: cussing below the break.
You can be a murderous tyrant and the world will remember you fondly. But fuck one horse and you're a horse-fucker for all eternity.
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Over here, I found this:
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I'm not much of a gun guy, but I am a huge geek and a bowler. So, imagine my excitement when vodkapundit pointed me to this bowling-ball mortar!
Holy crap! This thing shoots a bowling ball SIX HUNDRED YARDS so fast they whistle, and it uses, get this... THREE OUNCES of black powder as a charge.
Gotta go... gonna drop by Home Depot on the way home... hmmm dum de dum dum....
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Later today, I will depart for my annual Hajj to the great Hershey car fest, there to gaze jealously at the wonderful antique automobiles. This trip is always fun and frustrating - I love old cars, and the medieval fair atmosphere of the show - but frustrating when you see a '67 Camaro RS/SS convertible on the last day whose price has been knocked down $3000 because the owner wants to unload it.
Or a 49 Buick Roadmaster convertible whose owner is being deployed overseas. And you just don't have the money. Damn.
Someday, these cars will be mine. Yes indeedy do.
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So far, every person who acted in the movie Predator who has run for governor has won the election. Sadly, Carl Weathers lives in Los Angeles, and will have to wait for the Governator to move out of office, or else move back to his native Louisiana.
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I see via Tuesday Morning Quarterback Gregg Easterbrook that the Policy Analysis Market is back on track, albeit without any (overt) government funding. Isn't the internet grand?
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Been reading this blog lately. Lots of excellent material, like this:
Allah forgives you, infidels! Come! Come give Allah a big bear hug!
Many times since he started his glorious blog has Allah been inclined to set Evan Williams and his atrocious, devil-worshipping software on fire. But then he considers the profound joy this would bring to the kufr and he thinks better of it. The cardinal rule of radical Islam in action: Determine what it is that makes the Jew happy--e.g., education, equal treatment for women--then do the opposite. And yes, to anticipate your next question, Allah understands that by this logic Muslims should be wolfing down pork by the plateful. What can Allah tell you except that swine is the exception that proves the rule.
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I have gotten so tired of entering my name and address for interweb registrations that I went to the post office website to look up the zip code for 1060 W. Addison, so that I could consistently enter the same incorrect information for all these nosy marketroid dungbreros. In fact I encourage, nay, insist that from now on everyone should enter the following personal information:
Dick M. Stickrod *
[a valid email address]
1060 W. Addison
Chicago, IL 60613
If they ask for more info:
Female
birthdate - 01/01/1901
Income Range - as close to zero as possible, or the highest.
For the rest, whatever feels right.
* An actual person. I sold him five triple pane vinyl replacement windows with the optional low-E coating for ultraviolet protection. It took me three days before I could look at the name without breaking into laughter, or tears. Three abortive attempts to call before I got through without choking. Nice guy, a bit defensive about his name. But, it's Dick, not Richard, Rich or Rick.
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I hadn't looked at the Onion in a while, but this made me titter:
*
I have been guilty of #1, 2 and 5. My favorite part of the Onion has always been the headlines on the right sidebar. Couple good ones in the most recent issue:
Fun, fun, fun
[wik] From the distant vantage point of the far-future Ministry, the nature of that image is entirely unknown, and unknowable.
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There's lots of exceptional writers in the world. Nothing incredibly special about that. It's quite another thing to be an exceptional writer with the generosity of spirit and spiritual energy to nuture the careers of other writers whose talents dwarf yours. He will be missed.
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Late last night, power was finally restored to the Buckethead Mansion in Lower Alexandria. The linemen, a team from Georgia, were highly competent and helpful, even fixing some problems left by the electrician who "upgraded" the electrical system in the house. Thanks to Lowell and Champ and their team good work. Hopefully, they will be able to take a break and see their families soon.
And keep in your thoughts the linemen have died in the process of restoring power to the states hit by Isabel.
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Still no power in casa de Buckethead. Four and one half days without electricity gets tiresome. The first two days were fun, like camping. But you go camping with the reassuring knowledge that you can go back to civilization once you've had your fill of primitive living. It seems that we do not have that option.
Nevertheless, there is hope. A crack power company recon team examined our situation, and said that a repair crew should arrive sometime today. And our excellent neighbor Dave ran an extension cord over, so at least we have power for our refrigerator. Of all the electrical gadgets, that is the one I have missed most.
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As of 9:00 this morning when I left for work, still no power. At this point, not having power is substantially more frustrating, because everyone else on my street has had their power restored. The power company won't give me an estimate on when, either. At least, now that my neighbors have power, they aren't running their generators, and I my neighborhood doesn't sound like the middle of a tractor pull.
Thanks to Ross for allowing us to come over last night and pretend that we still live in a technologically advanced civilization, and watch DVDs, order carryout and gaze at the pretty electrical lights.
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I have been without power since 9:00 last night. I am posting this from the house of a friend who (seething jealously) has had power restored. Hurricane Isabel did not do too much damage overall, but a significant amount of downed trees has left hundreds of thousands of people in Northern Virginia powerless.
Therefore, posting will be light until power is restored. On the plus side, lack of electrical power for refrigerators is a good execuse to eat shrimp for lunch, steak for dinner, and all the most expensive food in the fridge for snacks before it all goes bad. Natural disaster is a good excuse for breaking the diet. Or for almost anything.
Lots of games of Parcheesi until Dominion Virginia Power gets its act together.
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Via geekpress I find this CNN story about Doune Castle, about forty miles outside Glasgow Scotland.*
Avast lubber keelhaul.**
It turns out that Doune castle is the site where Monty Python filmed The Quest For The Holy Grail, and the tour guides are pretty cool about the whole thing.
The castle manager even keeps coconuts on hand for those vistors who wish to pretend to be King Arthur and Patsy, and the staff are known to help out with on-the-spot reenactments of crucial scenes filmed at the castle-- Castle Anthrax, the Rescue, the French Taunter, the Knights of the Round Table song, etc.
I declare the first ever Ministry of Minor Perfidy State Visit, for the purpose of reviewing the grounds and facilities of Castle Doune. The mission will commence just as soon as sufficient capital has been raised to fund such an excursion. Now, who's with me? Who's with me?!?!
Scurvy dog grogbarrel purple monkey dishwasher plank something something eyepatch.***
* What really burns my biscuits is that I've been right by there, repeatedly, and never knew. Damn damn damn damn damn damn damn.
** Obligatory pirate-speak. Arr.
*** More. Isn't it annoying?
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