Posts (page 2)

2 concepts for public review:

1)  The "pee in the sink" rule:  This came to me when I saw, in the gym locker room, a posted sign asking men not to pee in the sink.  Thus is born the "pee in the sink rule," which is a label I apply to any regulation SO RIDICULOUS you can't believe it had to be written down.

2)  A "three-beer theory:"  Any theory that makes the most sense when you (and your listeners) are halfway through a six-pack.  (Yesterday I decided that people constantly underestimate both the relative value of things and each other because of The Price is Right.  This ONLY makes sense if you're halfway to drunk.)

I'm consistently amused by this kind of thing.

The last time I updated my Twitter feed:  September 19, 2007

The last time I got an email telling me "Metromix_Denver is now following you on Twitter:"  About forty minutes ago.

The only:

Art.obama.speech.cnn

I'm not even putting this in the Book Review group.  You, my lucky neighborhood, get to see me foam at the mouth over books I have not read.

Itemye the First! 

50 Fantasy Vehicles to Draw & Paint: Create Awe-Inspiring Crafts for Comics, Computer Games, and Gra

Keith Thompson

"50 fantasy vehicles to draw and paint"

Yes, I am in fact willing to admit to a certain admiration for someone who's imagination, when supplied with "fantasy vehicle," can return "armored spacewhale with a pilot's seat for a dorsal fin."  I've been reading a bit of Jim Emerson's blog lately, and it's made me think, "okay.  Everything about the armored spacewhale with a pilot's seat for a dorsal fin is an artistic choice.  What the artist has chosen to show us is all we can know of this vehicle."  What we're tasked with coming up with, then, are the answers to "how, exactly, is this supposed to work," and "with 50 fantasy vehicles to choose from, why go with the armored spacewhale that has a pilot's seat for a dorsal fin?"

Oh, and the needless pedant in me wants to know: is this technically a vehicle?  "Vehicle" often gets defined as a specifically non-living means of transport.

Oh.  ZOMBIE armored spacewhale with a pilot's seat for a dorsal fin.  Great.

Handwriting of the Famous and Infamous

Sheila Lowe

"Handwriting of the famous and infamous."

Is this test not pre-polluted?  You take a handwriting sample from a historical personality, apply handwriting analysis, and determine their personality.  Except that unless it's a VERY good blind test, you know in advance who the writer is, and thus, most likely something of the writer's personality.  Even if you black out the names, really:

"My Dearest Martha, today, encamped as we were on the Potomac, overlooking the British camped in Philadelphia, my thoughts were, as always, only of you.

Your loving George,"

That's not exactly rocket science.  (side note.  How much more awesome would history be if that writer had had access to someone capable of doing rocket science?)

But that's not really my problem with the book.  My problem with the book is that it got published, and purchased, when I can NOT EVEN GET A MOVIE DEAL FOR MY EFFING BLOG!

Stranger in a Strange Land

Robert A. Heinlein

Ah, but today, most of my bile is reserved for Heinlein.  I devoured his books when I was younger, and in recent years, I've picked up one or two, as timewasters, and I have discovered something now that I have
a) travelled on an airplane
and
b) felt the touch of a woman.

His books suck.  His books are science and sex and science and sex, which is fine, except that the science is bad most of the time, and the sex is bad all of the time.  Now, I don't necessarily care about bad science, which you will know if you've ever heard me talk about the current run of Dr. Who, and I don't much mind bad sex, if you...you know what?  That doesn't really require an illustrative clause.  But both of them, for the most part, happen off-page ('twere it a movie, would be "off-screen.")

I can't tell you how often (in a single book) I've run across scenes that go,
But that is a matter of ballistics, which is of great interest to a ballistician, which, assuming you are not, is of less interest to you.  So I shall gloss over those gross details, save to tell you that mathematics from the pert mouth of a redheaded woman clad only in her Mother Eve aspect is as alluring a sight as my eyes have ever seen, so that events proceeded naturally and smoothly along their course and described a parabolic arc away from ballistics and towards a good night's sleep.

Got that?  In summary: "There was math, which I don't understand and won't tell you about, and then an orgy, which I also don't understand and won't tell you about."

" "God was certainly looking out for us." Especially when he put that flock of geese in front of the plane  "

Yeah, that's Fark, saying something similar to what I'm thinking.

Don't get me wrong, it was a heroic moment and I'm certainly glad nobody died, but yesterday the Internet exploded with "Ohmygod those pilots are AMAZING," and all I could think was:

They hit a flock of geese.
They hit that flock of geese hard enough that they were so damaged they needed to get back to the ground AND so damaged that they couldn't make it back to the airport they had just left.

Alternate theory:  They had always REALLY wanted to try a water landing, and life handed them an opportunity too good to resist.

Yep.  I'm an asshole.

What's your favorite winter activity?

I'd have to go with "living in Florida."

Not good things or bad things, just things.

 - Hair in the bathtub.  Check.
    - Did I put extra hair in the bathtub, just because I could?  No comment.
 - Dirty dishes in the sink:  Check.
    - From Sunday?  Doublecheck.
 - Mildly pornographic screensaver?  Not yet.
 - Underwear in kitchen:  Check.
    - Dirty underwear in kitchen?  Ew, no.  I have limits.
        - Somebody else's underwear in kitchen?  Currently accepting applications.
 - Starting to skeeve myself out a little:  Check.

 - Clearly having a new apartment:  Check.

Yesterday afternoon, I was walking out to my car, preparatory to moving it to the parking garage for the evening, and noticed, somewhat randomly, that I was casting two distinct shadows.

Okay, I'm used to casting more than one shadow while I'm inside, but I'm outside, and the only significant light source is the sun, and there's not likely to be anyone shining the Batsignal or anything on me to make me cast a second shadow.  Also, for the uber-nerds reading, I decided it was unlikely to be the Vashta Nerada.  Because they are fictional.

So, just a little puzzled, I start looking around this expanse of broad daylight for a second light source that might be casting a second shadow, and it turns out that the sunlight is reflecting *very* strongly off of the hotel that I'm kind of obliquely walking by.  So I have one well-defined and fairly dark shadow coming from the nice bright direct sunlight, and another dark shadow coming from the nice bright reflected sunlight.

Why is this important?  It's not, other than that A) I was momentarily puzzled, and B) I haven't posted anything in a while.