Tuesday, August 31, 2004

Yogi Berra would be proud of me

"...all over again."

Today, I'm sitting at my computer looking out the window while trying to figure out a problem.

Then I get this strong feeling of déjà vu that I've been staring out this window thinking about the same problem before.

Then I get this strong feeling of déjà vu that I've gotten this strong feeling of déjà vu that I've been staring out this window thinking about the same problem before.

Déjà vu never feels to me like I've done something before but like I've dreamed it before. I usually take it as a sign I haven't been sleeping well lately. Either that, or the Matrix has me.

Friday, August 27, 2004

Roshambo for Radio (XM Radio, that is)

Rock-paper-scissors your way to fabulous prizes!

For my friends in the D.C. metropolitan area, you need to know that tomorrow is the The 2004 DC National Rock Paper Scissors Championship. Winner gets $1000 dollars and an XM radio. For those of you who can't/won't be going (like me), you can always play correspondence rock-paper-scissors thanks to the wonder that is the internet. No money it it, though.

Unrelated: The A-Team Resolves Lapses in Homeland Security. I like last two steps of our new plan for terrorists threatening to detonate a bomb that contains nuclear materials: "While terrorists' attention is diverted, replace radioactive materials with horse manure. Later, when bomb detonates harmlessly, have B.A. deliver line, 'Now that's what I call a dirty bomb.'"

Wednesday, August 18, 2004

Ignore it like it's pork

I asked Erica if she had seen that woman's story in the NYT this Sunday about OCD manifesting as religious observance. I've been saying for years now that Judaism is a great religion for the obsessive compulsive.

I remember reading about one of the Talmudic rabbis -- I can't remember who -- who had a hole in the wall just above his commode. I remember the rationale as:
An evil spirit would be more eager to beset a prominent rabbi than a normal man,
but someone else’s presence with you would warded it off,
but it's indecent to have someone watch you go to the bathroom.
So he bored a hole so his wife could put her hand on his head while he was sitting down without worry of accidentally seeing anything.

My mom used to always tell us how, when she was a kid, she thought flatware grew out of the ground. My grandparents had someone come in to help around the house when the kids were young, but she didn't know from keeping kosher and would wash all the silverware together. To clean something, you can use fire to burn away the treif, but you can bury it in the earth for however many days if you can't burn it. Mom would walk by and see silverware sticking out of the ground...

[ Listening to: "What Cool Breezes Do" - Digable Planets ]

Tuesday, August 17, 2004

The only thing worse than a bad poet is one who doesn't think he is.

H Monkey runs, H Monkey hides -
a monkey's always by our sides.
Mine sees no ill nor hears too well
but screeches that I'll go to hell.
(Or else he sings without one word.

Be glad if you have never heard
what buzzes raw and feels more fell,
a din of rage, a one-man cell.)

We control the...screw it, we don't control nothin'

Woah. They were directed by the same guy?

Yes, Whichfinder General is more worth your time, assuming violent, bloody misogyny and eye gouging aren't deal-breakers for you.

I've said it before: The Sorcerers was a poorly edited episode of The Outer Limits — the newer series, not the 1960's version. The cast has one 'name' actor everyone knows and a few others that are vaguely familiar. There are serious plot holes, but the general concept is something you probably would never see on screen otherwise. The production values could have been a little better, and there's one horribly miscast guy.

Also, how sad is it that when I saw that episode with Kevin Nealon I instantly recognized the woman as being the English voice of Sailor Moon? This is why I've sworn off cable, people. I'm incapable of regulating my television intake. I turn it on while I'm futzing around on the computer, and the next thing you know I'm riveted, torn between watching people mill around during a quorum call on C-SPAN and an episode of the Telemundo equivalent of Passions. Ten hours later, I'm waking up in the morning two hours after my alarm went off with only three hours total of sleep.

Tuesday, August 10, 2004

Jodi Foster does origami (Follow up to a link on Franks page, II).

About the 10 dumb scifi moments, Superman turning back time absolutely belongs there.

I have a problem with the "Contact" thing, the last one on the page. Maybe it's because I read the book and never saw the movie, but it seemed perfectly rational to me. Maybe the alien race you're communicating with has naturally evolved radio signal receptors, and maybe the technology you're trying to communicate is potentially disastrous if misunderstood. An I.Q. test first seems perfectly reasonable then. So you send a simple message from space, and the more a species can analyze it, the more puzzles peel off like an onion until they get to the blueprints.

And if it's just because you're the kind of race who just likes being enigmatic, why would you stop right when you get to the good stuff?