The Patron Saint of Mediocrity

Police car design reviews!

2011-10-05T08:03:00.000-07:00

Colorado State Patrol

I don't care if this has a light bar and sirens. This does not look like a police car. If I saw this car speeding past me, I would think it was a company car for a start-up that produces hydroelectric power or something.

Maine State Police

I've heard some libertarians complain that giving police black uniforms and vehicles is a sign of the increasing militarization of law enforcement. That said, I don't think we ought to make the police drive around in something that resembles the 1982 Cardinals' road uniforms.

Massachusetts State Police

Oh, no! I'm being pulled over by the Seattle Seahawks!

Tennessee State Highway Patrol

I can see how someone might think that a broken stripe is lovably retro. But there is no excuse for harvest gold.

Royal Canadian Mounted Police

Remember when you were constructing Lego buildings and you'd start running out of correctly-colored (sorry, "coloured") blocks, so you'd just throw in whatever colors you had left in a series of stripes?

Johannesburg Metro Police

Every year, South Africa loses many of its finest officers to psychosomatic blindness.

Fairfax County (VA) Police

Ooh, gradients! Can you throw in a lens flare?

Grapevine (TX) Police

Yes, Chief, I know, "Grapevine" and all that. But couldn't we have a design patterned on green grapes?

North Pole (AK) Police

I would be really impressed if they used the color-changing paint we used to have on Matchbox cars, so that the snow caps on the letters disappeared in the summertime.

Forks Township (PA) Police

This calls for a visit from Peter Stormare.

Pope County (IL) Sheriff

Rumor has it that Pope County also ordered a series of custom sirens.

University of Oregon Police

The same brand of ugly that has infected Oregon's football uniforms has moved on to its police cars.

Double Oak (TX) Police

Here's an example of what a police car ought to look like. "Police" is written in big, clear letters that can be read from a long distance away. The black-and-white paint job is distinctive. Even very young children, illiterates, and newcomers to town can determine instantly that this is a police car.

Your thoughts?

A note on Texas justice

2011-07-12T09:58:00.000-07:00

In Texas, it is OK for a prosecutor to refer to the defendant as a "moral vacuum," (McKay v. State, 707 S.W.2d 23, 36 (Tex. Crim. App. 1985)) an "animal," (Burns v. State, 556 S.W.2d 270, 285 (Tex. Crim. App. 1977)), and a "monster," (Rivas v. State, No. 04-06-00375-CR, 2007 WL 1608550, at *6 (Tex. App.—San Antonio June 6, 2007)), but calling the defendant a "hippie" in the closing argument is considered too inflammatory and is grounds for reversing a conviction. Stein v. State, 492 S.W.2d 548 (Tex. Crim. App. 1973)

Movie review: "Häxan"

2011-06-11T22:32:00.000-07:00

There are about a half a dozen ways that you can examine this unusual Swedish silent classic, and I'm going to give you a once-over so you can determine if it's the sort of film you want to watch or not.

Experiment in narrative. Häxan isn't structured quite like any other film you've ever seen. It begins with a shot of the filmmaker, Benjamin Christensen, looking stern, and proclaiming that he created the film over the course of two years. Christensen then launches into what is essentially a university lecture on medieval cosmology, complete with pointer stick and citations. Then Christensen begins to weave skits about the Inquisition into his tale, occasionally dropping back out to present more lecture material, concluding with a short story about modern times. At a couple of points, Christensen even tells us what the actresses in the skits told him while they were playing the scenes! It's an unusual mix of documentary and drama, and I can't tell if it was totally revolutionary or if modern cinematic storytelling conventions hadn't quite set in yet. In a way, the combination of a straight-talking (and slightly sarcastic) narrator with a "re-enactment" makes Häxan the ancestor of both the horror anthology and such TV docudramas as Unsolved Mysteries.

Exploitation film. From the first time a witch pulls apart a stack of hay to reveal a severed hand, it's clear that Christensen is prepared to put on a spectacle using the best technology he could get, and the film is a bonanza both of early special effects (mechanical dioramas, stop-motion, double-exposures, bizarre costumes) and lurid subject matters (demonic dances, nuns gone mad, torture devices demonstrated, and blatant masturbation references). It brings to mind later exploitation films that used education as an excuse to get away with showing such sinful matters as sex, drugs, and gore.

Gender perspectives. All the characters who are afflicted with devil visits or mental illness are women. All the demons, the inquisitors, and the physicians are men. Häxan is part of the medieval tradition of associating women with chaos and men with order, but displays the worst of both traits; women driven mad by their unchecked emotions are confronted with the hideous and merciless bureaucracy of the Inquisition. (However, there's a short scene with a woman pilot at the end - I wonder if that means anything?)

Mental health. Despite Christensen's "we're men of science now" demeanor, it's clear that he isn't totally sold on his era's view of mental illness. He treats the sufferers as innocent waifs and the organizations that are supposed to help them as short-sighted and mean.

The Great War. Christensen began filming this the year after World War I ended. German filmmakers had already used insanity and mind control as a very effective metaphor for the war in 1919's "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari," and Christensen revisits those themes here, even including a reference to the war in the modern skit. In earlier times such a horrific event would've been blamed on the devil, Christensen seems to say, but as men of science, we've proved that he doesn't exist… or does he?

Link to a free version of the film is right here, and feel free to comment or email me if you want to talk more about it.

We want you, we want you, we want you as a new recruit

2011-05-28T16:47:00.000-07:00

Scene: A smoke-filled room in Annapolis, Maryland, 1917. A team of admirals are meeting around a desk.

"So, we've finally decided to smash the cursed Hun. We're going to need a lot more men to join the Navy. Any ideas for our recruiting campaign?"

"Well, we could appeal to patriotism, or draw pictures of the Kaiser as a gorilla, but I think the Army already has that covered. We need some kind of angle, something unique."

"Sir, I have an idea."

"Go ahead."

"Sex."

"Sex?"

"Yes, sir. Sex. We market the Navy as the sexy service."

"I'm a little confused. Do you mean something like this?"

"What? No! I mean using women in the ads!"

"But Admiral, surely you've noticed that there are no women in the Navy. And our sailors are often required to spend months at sea at a time, with no women for hundreds of miles around."

"So we get kind of a boyish-looking girl and put her in a Navy uniform. Like this."

"You know damned well that the Navy's uniform isn't designed for women."

"So then you just draw pictures of the girl in the uniform, so you don't have to design a uniform just for the model. And make sure you get one of a girl in one of those jumpers with a V-neck."

"I'm quite concerned that this campaign will be a disaster for some of our younger, fresh-faced sailors. We don't want the Navy to become associated with gender ambiguity."

"Look, if anybody asks, we just say that we're promoting how sexy your girlfriend will look when you come home and she borrows your uniform. There's no danger of attracting Oscar Wilde types."

"All right, let's do it. It's not like this display of sexual imagery will carry over into any future wars or anything."

Residential Rehab or Nondenominational Church?

2011-04-07T20:24:00.000-07:00

I drove past a billboard for The Cornerstone today, and it struck me that this organization had the kind of generically uplifting and pleasant name that I associate with one of two entities: a residential drug rehab center of the type so often seen on "Intervention," or a non-specifically Protestant freeway church. And given that I received a compliment on my blog today, I figured I would turn this into a game for my readers. For each location listed below, guess whether it's a rehab facility or a megachurch. Answers at the bottom of the post. Search engines make it not fun.

1. Bay Pointe, Traverse City, MI
2. Guiding Star, Phoenix, AZ
3. Archways, Scott, LA
4. Garden Way, Eugene, OR
5. The Genesis Project, Ogden, UT
6. A New Freedom, Houston, TX
7. ChangePoint, Anchorage, AK
8. Life Changers, Hoffman Estates, IL
9. Changing Echoes, Angels Camp, CA
10. Empowered Life, Henderson, NV

1. church 2. rehab 3. rehab 4. church 5. church 6. rehab 7. church 8. church 9. rehab 10. church

(note: while researching this quiz I found a church called the Destiny Dome. Two gods enter, one god leaves?)

St. Patrick's Day Tips

2011-03-16T20:26:00.000-07:00

• Order a round of Black and Tans for your friends. Convince them it's traditional.
• Carry a shillelagh. Use it for its traditional purpose - cracking the skulls of anyone who wears fecking leprechauns on their clothing.
• If you run out of Irish drinking songs, remember that songs from other EU citizens are basically the same thing. May I suggest Ace of Base?
• Try the Salmon of Knowledge. It's delicious!
• Carry a sign reading "Down With This Sort Of Thing."
• Convert your name to its traditional Irish form by doubling every "n," turning every "o" into an "ui," and inserting an "haitch" before every vowel.
• Eamon De Valera quit drinking in the hopes that his countrymen would do likewise. Never speak of this.
• Celebrate St. Patrick's patronage of Nigeria with an evening of Nollywood films.
• Take up your Irish-American friends' invitations to kiss them, then spend the next two weeks at home with mononucleosis.
• Ask your German friends for money.
• Consider whether your quaint notions of the Auld Sod and its people could be mildly racist, and open your mind to the possibility that the Irish may be ordinary people like you and me. Then put these troubling thoughts aside.

Maybe a little inspired by a trip to the Sizzler

2011-03-09T20:58:00.000-08:00

Suppose you have just entered a restaurant and you discover that all the patrons are old people. Would that make you more likely to want to eat there, or less likely to want to eat there?

Pros:
• Old people are good at spotting bargains, so presumably the restaurant would give you good value for money
• Old people expect friendly service and are unlikely to hang out at a place where the staff is rude
• No irritating children

Cons:
• Old people may just be coming back because they remember how great the food used to be twenty years ago
• Old people have developed a taste for braised pork snouts and boiled fish lips and other disgusting foods they used to have to eat during the War
• Unpleasant reminders of one's own mortality

A Challenge for the Ambitious

2011-02-15T05:14:00.000-08:00

If you haven't been keeping up with the latest developments in conspiracy theories, you may have missed out on the Alex Jones phenomenon. Mr. Jones is the proprietor of Infowars and PrisonPlanet, two highly dubious news sites, and host of a radio show that purports to bring the truth to the sheeple of America. Here you'll find the usual tales of the Bilderberg Group, sinister vaccines and poisoned water supplies, with a few exciting details. For instance, did you know that the cartoon "Squidbillies" is Pentagon propaganda?*

Anyhow, here's the challenge. Become an expert - you could always get yourself a PhD, or maybe use your National Guard experience to become a former Pentagon insider. Call the show week after week, and working backward chronologically, convince him that every single military action in history was staged.

At what point will he lose interest? My guess is that it will happen around the time that the Russians paid off Charles XII to take a dive at Poltava. (To paraphrase Raul Julia, the first rule of American history: what's before America is not important.)

Bonus points if you can provide a convincing explanation of how MI5 framed the Nazis for pretending that the Communists burned the Reichstag.

*note how Jones slips into a Southern accent when pretending to be an idiot, then complains that Southerners are unfairly stereotyped as idiots

Lawyers Behaving Badly

2011-01-24T08:54:00.000-08:00

The funniest lawyer discipline case of 2010 was the case of Charna Johnson, an Arizona lawyer who represented a client in a probate case by channeling the client from beyond the grave.

2011 is still young, but I think it's going to be difficult to top Louisiana's Nolan Hammond, who displayed a unique method of getting DNA samples.

The Florentine Porter

2011-01-10T06:53:00.000-08:00

(First attempt at fiction writing since high school. Criticism welcome!)

The Florentine Porter

It was mid-evening on the Riviera, and Patrice's deep red uniform blended into the sky as he sat next to the glass doors of the Hotel Florentine. He brushed away the crumbs from his dinner and idly tapped his foot as he waited for the next guest.

Foot-tapping; another bad habit. Father had been quick to shame him when he'd crack his knuckles or scratch an itch. Later in life, Patrice took to filing his nails every evening to cover up his habit of chewing them. When he was photographed, he kept his hands out of the frame when possible, or turned the back of his hand away from the camera, just to make sure nobody noticed. The inner circle must have known. Why, Mbote had been a bed-wetter all his life, and Patrice had heard the snickers of the ministers when they passed his bedroom.

Patrice remembered the last time he saw Mbote. It was when Patrice graduated from the Académie Militaire. The old man spoke to the graduates at the great hall of the Presidential Mansion, standing atop a wooden podium flanked by two lion mounts. (This was before Father renovated the hall, installing crushed velvet drapery and replacing the mounted lions with a gilded eagle.) As usual, the speech had been unremarkable. Patrice couldn't remember a word of it now. Mbote had probably said something about the officer corps being the backbone of the State, if only because he described everything as the backbone of the state, from the Legionnaires to the railroad to the cashew crop. Everyone said that he'd been a dynamic speaker in his youth, but his enthusiasm had long since…

Two guests outside. Three bags; no, four, the woman had one slung over her shoulder. Fairly light packing for a stay at the Florentine. Patrice strode to the door.

"Bon soir."

"Bon soir." The man spoke with a pronounced American accent, so Patrice switched to English.

"Let me take your bags for you."

"Merci," said both the man and the woman.

Patrice's fluency in English gave him an advantage when it came time to apply for the job at the Florentine. The pay wasn't much, but he was usually tipped well, and it kept him occupied. He'd been totally adrift in his first few months on the Riviera, sleeping eighteen hours one day, walking aimlessly along the beach the next, measuring time only by hunger and the seasons only by the sports on the television at the bar.

Patrice smiled. "Is this your first visit to Nice?"

"No," said the gentleman, never making eye contact.

"But it is our first time at the Florentine," the blonde added.

"Ah, we are always delighted to have new guests, and I am sure that after you have stayed at the Florentine you will come back here every time you are in town."

The elevator's doors opened.

Patrice was quite impressed by the man's ornate silver cufflinks. The first time he'd seen a set of cufflinks like that was when Warren Christopher visited Bolama. The Americans had skipped Father's inauguration entirely, citing "security." Things had been chaotic in the first weeks following Mbote's death - suicide, Patrice reminded himself, suicide - but the military was loyal to Father and were able to push the Bandigarans back into the Sahel by the time Father officially assumed the presidency. It would be a year and a half before the Americans sent a delegation, and Christopher only stopped over for a day before leaving for Kinshasa.

Third floor. Patrice pushed the brass baggage cart into the hall and started down the path to room 318. Two left turns, then a right by the radiator. "Follow me," he said. Cufflinks Man muttered something that sounded appreciative. The Florentine's layout was more than a little confusing, but Patrice knew every last detail by now.

"Your room, Sir and Madam, and please, if there is anything I can do to make your stay more pleasant, do not hesitate to give me a call." The guests smiled, without raising their eyebrows.

Patrice was present when Father met with Christopher to discuss… what was it? Bauxite mines? No, that was de Charette's visit in '95. Christopher had been there for flood relief in '93. Patrice, in his official capacity as Ministre de l'Equipement, gave a short lecture to the Cabinet and the honored guest about the new dam at Bas-Madinani. One hundred thirty meters tall, concrete solid gravity, 210 megawatts, legacy of modernization…

As he pushed the cart back into the elevator, he spotted fingerprints along the middle of the frame. Probably left behind by that family in 404 who brought six kids with them. Those children thought everything was a toy! Certainly not how Patrice had been raised. Shiny things were not for touching, because your hands would only make them dirty. Shiny things were for admiring from afar.

Patrice emerged from the elevator at the lobby and was immediately flagged down by the fellow from 512.

"Excuse me, Patrice?"

"Yes, sir!"

"I was about to head out to the Promenade for a cup of coffee. Do you have any recommendations?"

"The Amorino is very popular, but it would be very crowded this time of day. I recommend the Cafe Provençal, along Rue Gioffredo. They have excellent coffee." Patrice eyed the black bag slung over 512's shoulder. "And free Internet access."

"Thank you, Patrice."

"Of course."

The Internet, a strange place indeed. If you had told Patrice fifteen years ago that he'd be able to read L'Observateur Mamou from a computer in Nice… well, first he'd ask why he was reading L'Observateur to begin with. Father's press censorship law ("no, Patrice, it is the Assembly's Accurate Reporting Act," Father said) forbade them to print any political news, so they carried nothing but weather reports, football scores, and radio schedules. Nowadays some expats were running it, so it carried plenty of stories about the brutality of Touré's regime. The first few articles about the officer purge filled Patrice with a strange mixture of nostalgia and disgust, like seeing an old friend who had been disfigured by a fire. From then on, he only read the weather reports, the football scores, and the radio schedules.

How the hell had Touré rounded up all those men, anyway? One moment he was fleeing the nation in rags with the rest of the Bandigarans, and in six short years he was charging back over the border at the head of a tank column. A tank column! He must have had funding from somebody. The Russians? The Americans? The Saudis? The Nigerians? The Franco-Mamouvian Bauxite Consortium?

Patrice pushed the baggage cart to the housekeeping office, waving to Ali as he arrived. Ali was busy folding and stacking towels, and was wearing his headphones as usual. Patrice pointed at the bottle of brass cleaner on the supply rack. Ali smiled and nodded. The gestures were just as well. Ali hardly knew enough French to call a dog.

Even as he polished the luggage rack, Patrice could hear the faint sound of the drums from Ali's music. Patrice had come so close to making his mark on the musical world. When he'd told Father that he'd heard that Billie Holiday's ancestors came from Mamou, Father (after Patrice explained who Billie Holiday was) approved the project. 625 million francs, but what an investment! Bolama would boast the world's largest jazz orchestra. Tourism would double. UNESCO might give a cultural grant. The orchestra hall would sit opposite the Place de l'Indépendance (the Place Mbote? No, Father changed its name. Or did Patrice?), proclaiming Mamou's place among the nations.

Even after Father died, Patrice kept his office at the Ministre de l'Equipement, rather than moving to the Palais de l'Etat. From his third-story window, he could watch the construction of the orchestra hall. The noise of the steam shovel and the jackhammer occasionally disrupted his meetings, but so much the better: the rattling and shaking gave him an excuse to tune out the dreary matters of state and daydream of the opening night at the orchestra hall. Would he wear a tuxedo, or his uniform, or a dashiki? Who would he get to conduct the first performance - maybe Wynton Marsalis?

There. Nice and shiny. A perfect complement to the Florentine's antique light fixtures. Just because the luggage rack did a less than glamorous job didn't mean that it shouldn't be pretty. Perhaps that's why it took so much effort to design a soldier's uniform. Mother always said the red stripes on his epaulettes made Patrice's eyes stand out.

He waved to Ali and strode back to his post. A good porter can look calm even when he is in a rush, and while Patrice suspected he still had a half hour or so before the evening train's passengers would crowd the Promenade, he could use that time to inspect the lobby for lost items. He was always amazed by how many mobile phones could sneak their way out of their owner's pockets and into the shade of the furniture. (Whenever there were a large crop of unclaimed mobiles at the front desk, Gyorgy from Maintenance would put them all on a table, set them to vibrate, call them and see which one was the fastest to shake its way across the table. Patrice had won twenty Euros last week by betting on a particularly speedy Nokia.)

Come to think of it, there were a few times during Father's funeral reception when Patrice had to go to the bathroom to wash his hands. Was that really all his sweat, or had he shaken hands with a nervous schemer? Certainly Father wouldn't have believed that the finest surgeons in Europe would have failed a routine gallbladder surgery. Maybe they'd received a little encouragement. The Intelligence Service report didn't uncover anything, but the Intelligence Service were the same experts whose reports on the Rwandan civil war were copied directly from the Los Angeles Times.

Patrice spotted a stray business card on the floor. It must have slipped out of the guest's pocket as he jogged into a closing elevator. Or maybe Oscar Espla, Architect, had been that loud fellow with the goatee who was in the lobby a few hours earlier, trying to entertain a middle-aged blonde with stories of his speedboat. Maybe the woman had smiled politely as he tilted his eyebrows and handed her his card, only for her to palm it behind her purse and discreetly jettison it once nobody was looking.

Oscar's misadventure was enough to make Patrice chuckle, but not enough to keep him from speculating about the Council of Ministers. Yes, Patrice had been a natural enough successor, and he was thrilled when Niome changed his vote and ensured Patrice would take the presidency, but maybe Niome had seen through him. Everyone knew that the general had been behind the anonymous circular claiming that the orchestra hall was to be built at the expense of a new radar series of radar outposts. Maybe Niome figured he could outsmart Patrice. Maybe Niome cut a deal with Touré to give him an open path to the capital. Maybe Niome was living in luxury in Dubai… or maybe Niome was shot while trying to escape, or "shot while trying to escape." Maybe Patrice was just outsmarting himself.

Three Chinese men were at reception now, and so Patrice pushed the baggage cart to the front door in anticipation of unloading their bags. They'd arrived in the Florentine's airport shuttle van, so that meant Albert would be there to help Patrice move the bags. (Albert's wife Jeannette would also be there, as she rode along to keep him company, but she was always too busy reading to help unload.)

"Big load today, Albert?"

"Look out for the big brown one," said Albert, gesturing to the tail gate.

The back of the van contained six suitcases in a variety of colors, all with wheels on the bottom, and three smaller sturdy black cases with silver latches on top. Patrice smiled. They were saxophone cases. Two tenors and an alto.

Albert had oversold the weight of the big brown case. Must've been full of clothing. It was a little awkward to carry, but Patrice only had to carry it a short distance to the cart.

Next came three of the bigger bags, and Patrice balanced them on the cart with practiced efficiency. The other two suitcases would go on top, with the alto sax wedged in the space between. No room for the tenors, so he'd have to carry them himself. With the left hand, of course; he needed to keep his right arm free to shake hands with the guests.

As he carried the bags to the waiting musicians, Patrice's left arm began to ache. Every heavy load reminded him of the one that had tweaked his muscle in the first place: a bronze eagle, gift of the Philippine Republic, that he'd shoved into the cargo hold of the plane bound for Dakar, as the echos of Touré's guns sounded in the streets of Bolama.

Lame thoughts on learning to do music

2010-12-30T15:50:00.000-08:00

• I wonder if a guy like Brahms ever sat down, wrote a piece and then asked himself, "Dammit, did I just write a capriccio, or was that an impromptu?"

• Because GarageBand is a .AU host, and my keyboard has a MIDI output, I can use my printer cable to hook up my keyboard to my computer and start playing synthesizer. I have never felt more stupid than when I tried to read software specs for synthesizers. For example: "TAL-Elek7ro is a virtual analog synth with some special features like oscillator hard-sync and frequency modulation. It features alias-free oscillators, newly developed fast envelopes and LFOs with a wide range from 0.1Hz up to 400 Hz. A free routable envelope with attack and decay is available too." I recognize that's supposed to be English, but really, can't they just say "This one goes BBRRRRRROWWWOWWOWWOWWW?"

• Speaking of MIDI, if I use MuseScore, I can automatically convert any MIDI file into sheet music. So the Internet's ancient MIDI websites have become my sheet music library. If you weren't on the Web in 1999, here's what it looked like. Under construction! Sign my guestbook!

Today's Mystery

2010-12-04T15:46:00.001-08:00

Seen at the laundromat today: a sign reading "No Dying of Any Kind."

The "No Dying" part is perfectly understandable. I can see why a business wouldn't want corpses sitting around, scaring away the customers and possibly creating fire hazards.

But what possessed them to add the "of Any Kind" bit? The only possible reason I can think of is that the Amazing Zombo was in the laundromat and was trying to argue that practicing his Mysterious Hindoo Death Trance didn't count as "dying" because it was only an illusion.

I can't believe I'm defending Ohio State

2010-11-26T12:31:00.000-08:00

As some of you may have heard, Ohio State president Gordon Gee complained that some unnamed college football teams played a schedule consisting of "the Little Sisters of the Poor. Boise State president Bob Kustra not only bitched about Gee's comments, but added the following remark:

"I just hope that when he speaks about his research profile or the quality of his university he’s a little more believable than he is about athletics, because he’s just so wrong on this one."

Are you sure you want to pick an academic fight with Ohio State, Bob?

Per US News and World Report, Ohio State is the #56 national university in the USA. Boise State is the 51st best regional university in the West, behind such luminaries as Central Washington, Northwest Nazarene, and Cal State-Stanislaus.

Ohio State has the 21st best graduate business program in the country. Boise State's program is unranked.

Ohio State's school of education is the #15 program in the country. Boise State, again, unranked.

In graduate-level engineering, Ohio State is #25. Boise State's program is undergraduate-only.

Ohio State has the #35 ranked law school and the #27 medical school. Boise State has no law school and no medical school.

Ohio State has 20 colleges. BSU has seven.

Ohio State has produced nine Pulitzer Prize winners and four Nobel Laureates. BSU has produced zero of each.

Ohio State's alumni include Jesse Owens, George Steinbrenner, Arthur Schlesinger, Roy Liechtenstein, Paul Iams (of pet food fame), Richard Lewis, Bruce Vilanch, Dwight Yoakam, Jack Buck, Howard Metzenbaum, and Teflon inventor Roy Plunkett. Boise State's alumni include Bob Kustra.

There are certainly legitimate reasons why someone would want to attend Boise State, but if Kustra thinks BSU is in the same academic weight class as Ohio State, he's as crazy as he was when he burned his bridges with another local university.

End of the line

2010-10-29T13:41:00.001-07:00

After possibly identifying my biological mother, I sent an email and a voice mail her way. Nothing too confrontational, just saying that she was in the same class as my mom and I'd like some help. I did the same thing with a couple of her classmates.

It's been two weeks and I've heard nothing. Maybe I guessed wrong, or maybe she'd rather not meet me. Understandable. She doesn't seem to have any other kids. Probably doesn't think of herself as a mother. Doesn't want to have to explain her decision.

That's fine. But if she changes her mind, she knows where I am.

Mom?

"Playing doctor" is less fun with psychologists

2010-10-23T19:22:00.000-07:00

It's been quite some time since I appointed a new TV Girlfriend. Probably because I haven't had cable and haven't watched much TV in the last year or so. But I have been able to keep up with some shows on Hulu, and that's where I met my most recent TV Girlfriend.

Say hello to Dr. Elizabeth Moore, a staff psychologist at the Hartford Hospital's Anxiety Disorders Center. She's been making appearances on "Hoarders," and I was won over by her elfin good looks and her PhD. I also wouldn't feel the need to clean up my apartment before she came over for a date.

Now, I think she'd look better with longer hair, but I can understand why you'd want to keep your hair short if you spent a lot of time wandering through houses full of feral cats.

Annals of masterful lawyering

2010-10-20T11:29:00.000-07:00

Imagine you are a lawyer who is representing a client who has been convicted of raping his girlfriend while they were both very drunk. Imagine, now, that you are taking this case up on appeal. Imagine that you are looking for an insightful quote to start your brief off with a bang.

A Montana lawyer, Palmer Hoovestal, decided that under these circumstances, the right way to start off his brief was with this quote:

"Don't worry about it... Like he said, we all do dumb shit when we're fucked up." - Mike Tyson, The Hangover

The Montana Supreme Court found this to be more than a little tacky, and delivered a delightful judicial slap in Hoovestal's face.

Belanus' brief on appeal opens with an expletive-laden quote from former boxer Mike Tyson... a peculiar choice for this case, given Tyson's conviction for raping an 18-year-old girl in Indiana in 1992.... The not-so-subtle point of this Tyson quote is that people should be forgiven for outrageous acts committed while extremely intoxicated... and which he now, for whatever reason, believes the court should bear in mind as we consider the legal issues raised in this appeal.

Do you think he won the appeal?

"Il Procuratore," an opera based on life in the C-Squared

2010-10-11T09:11:00.000-07:00

Act One:

The curtain rises on the prosperous town of Canyon, and the audience is introduced to Giovanni di Bujak, a lawyer who boasts of his prosperity ("Io sono un uomo ricco"). His aria is cut short when a messenger brings news that the banks have failed. A panicked crowd rushes the bank and bewails their lost assets ("La mia casa è andata").

Giovanni returns home to his wife Pepe, who compares him to her new automobile ("Ah, mia Escalade è delizioso"). Their reveries are interrupted by a stream of Giovanni's clients, who cannot pay him ("Mi merito un avvocato libero"). As the clients leave, they are followed by a man from Revenue Interno, who warns Giovanni and Pepe that they have fallen behind on their taxes. He will return in six months if the bill is not paid, and take everything they own ("Si lavora per nessuno, ma me").

Giovanni and Pepe are stunned by the news ("Mie scarpe! Miei vestiti! Mia Mercedes!"). But Giovanni has a plan: the office of Procuratore has recently become vacant. If he can become the new Procuratore, he can borrow some money from the public and repay it when fortunes improve. The two decide to go ahead with the plan, and contribute the last of their money to Giovanni's campaign ("Si ritornerà a noi triplice").

Act Two:

The curtain rises on Giovanni walking the streets of Canyon, proclaiming his candidacy ("Io sono duro su bande"). Meanwhile, Pepe sings of her fear that their poverty will be exposed ("Tutto nascondi"). Pepe is overheard by a local man, Roberto Enrico, who becomes suspicious.

Election Day arrives, and Giovanni becomes the Procuratore. He receives a triumphal coronation ("Io sono il ministro della jusice"). After the coronation, Giovanni embarks on a whirlwind of change, replacing all his staff, appearing frequently in the media ("Per il rilascio immediato solo"), and sneaking money out of the treasury ("E 'tutto lì nel contratto.")

Roberto Enrico relays his concerns to a former Procuratore, Michelizzi, who plan to expose Giovanni's fraud. As Giovanni and Pepe celebrate the return of their prosperity, Roberto and Michelizzi sing of their corruption ("Presto saremo fuori del debito / Ladro! Donnola!")

Act Three:

Revenue's deadline is fast approaching, and Pepe realizes that they cannot afford to repay the tax collector and the money owed from the treasury. Giovanni reassures her that their actions will not be discovered ("Nessuno deve sapere").

At the next meeting of the Commissari, Roberto and Michelizzi arrive and accuse Giovanni of theft. The Commissari panic ("Può essere vero?"), but Giovanni reassures them that he is prosperous and has no need for Canyon's money ("Fidati di me, io sono incorruttibile"). Roberto and Michelizzi are turned away, and after the meeting, Giovanni expresses his private fears that he will be discovered ("I proiettili sudore").

Giovanni returns home to find Pepe trying to balance the family budget. She urges him to come clean before things get worse ("Dobbiamo porre fine a questo inganno"). Giovanni refuses, stating that his plan has almost come to fruition ("Dimettersi? Nel nostro momento di trionfo?").The two pray for their deception to work. ("Noi li rimborsa e saremo perdonati").

Act Four:

The curtain rises on the office of the Procuratore, as Giovanni directs his employees ("Nostro ufficio è senza carta"). Suddenly, the Revenue Interno man arrives, flanked by Roberto, Michelizzi, and the Commissari. The agent, Roberto, and Michelizzi confront Giovanni with proof that he has stolen money from the treasury to pay his debts ("Ladro! Donnola! (reprise)"). As Giovanni issues denial after denial, more and more of the Commissari, and even Giovanni's staff, join into the reprise. As the complaints come to a head, Giovanni can no longer bear it and cries out his resignation ("Ah, io sono rovinato!")

Giovanni is led away to the stocks as Pepe mourns ("Siamo così stati vicini") and his staff frets about their fates ("Non c'è lavoro per gli avvocati").

Act Five has yet to be written. Will Michelizzi take the office of the Procuratore? Will Giovanni go to jail? Will he flee to Buenos Aires? Will Pepe denounce him? Will he fall upon his sword? Will he be dragged to hell like his namesake? We shall see…

Closing in on a solution

2010-10-06T06:54:00.000-07:00

I went to Iowa City this past weekend, and in addition to being part of a massive gold stripe, I paid a visit to the university archives to have a look at my birth mom's graduating class.

Fortunately for me, electrical engineering was not a popular major for women in the early 80s, so I was able to narrow down my list of candidates to ten people. From there, I applied a little Internet detectivery and was able to find one member of the class who appears to match up well with the information I have.

This candidate is an electrical engineer with brown hair and eyes, who worked in satellite communications for many years, is from southern Iowa, and enjoys cycling. She now lives in Louisiana, works as an Internet systems designer, and, oddly enough, is associated with the Big Easy Rollergirls. I guess it might run in the blood…

I'll try contacting her in the next week or so and ask her for help finding my birth mom - I don't want to go right out and accuse her of being my mom.

A Game For My Readers!

2010-09-02T15:59:00.000-07:00

When you hear the phrase "more money than taste," what kind of people come to mind? The two categories of people I most associate with that phrase are Russian zillionaires and televangelists. I have no idea how these two subcultures came to inspire each other to develop similarly gaudy tastes. (Maybe the part of your brain that demands gold-plated Gulfstream jets is the same part that's associated with a desire to cheat on your taxes?)

Anyhow, I'm presenting a little game to you, my faithful readers. I'm going to post pictures of ten houses, and for each house, I want you to identify whether it belongs to a Russian business tycoon, or to a noted TV preacher. You may post your responses in the comments. High score is crowned the King or Queen of Chintz. Good luck!

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

10.

More puzzle pieces

2010-07-27T18:09:00.000-07:00

Received 5 pages of documents from Lutheran Social Service. A summary:

• Bio-Mom was 22. 5'7", 150, brown hair, brown eyes. She mentioned "slightly oily skin, some acne problems."
• She was the 4th of 5 kids, and also the shortest: the others range from 5'10" to 6'6". She had an older brother who was also an electrical engineer.
• She was from a blue-collar family. Bio-Maternal-Grandpa was a factory worker until his heart attack, Bio-Maternal-Grandma worked at a department store. Bio-Mom worked there with her in high school.
• She was descended from Germans on her dad's side and Irish on her mom's. No mention of Czechs or Hungarians, whom I had expected to see.
• She smoked marijuana once but "didn't enjoy it." No word on whether she inhaled.
• The information sheet for Bio-Dad is in a different handwriting than Bio-Mom's, so presumably he managed to visit LSS on his own (weighing against the "rape baby" possibility). His information is sketchier.
• Bio-Dad was 6'2" and working as a stagehand at age 23.
• He had a half-sister who was in 9th grade. He listed no information on the father's side of his family.
• His mom was a teacher: two uncles and his grandfather were M.D.s.
• Bio-Mom provided the following handwritten statement:

I will graduate in 1½ years. My major is electrical engineering. [University of Iowa, Class of 1983?] I am very interested in satellite communications and I would like to get a job in electronics dealing in satellites, or other space programs, such as the space shuttle. [I remember when I was in kindergarten and I kept asking Mrs. Church to show me the new pictures from Voyager 2] History & government & english classes were not interesting to me. [Apple fell pretty far from the tree here.] I enjoyed art class, but found out young I was not talented as for art drawing. I did take violin lessons for a few years and my teacher said I had potential. My little brother is very talented. He plays the upright bass & the bass guitar. I enjoy outdoor activities – camping, canoeing, swimming (though I'm not a good swimmer). I have a very nice bike and I really enjoy riding it. I want my baby to grow up in a fair sized town – like Davenport, but not Davenport. [“not” is triple underlined] I want my baby to be raised a Roman Catholic. My first preference is that the adoptive parents be a couple that will be leaving the state of Iowa. If this can't be arranged, I'd like my baby placed in the northern part of Iowa, as I have a lot of relatives in the Southern and South Central part of Iowa. [Not sure what she was going for here - afraid someone might recognize me?]

I enjoy music – folk, rock, jazz, classical. I was in chorus in high school and was in the alto section. My child may be musically inclined, [hey, she said I might be "inclined," she didn't say I'd be any good!] please encourage these talents, but if she/he is like me, she/he will also enjoy the logic of math. I also enjoy horseback riding & someday hope to have a horse of my own.

A Big Deal

2010-07-20T20:03:00.000-07:00

"Have you ever thought about finding your birth parents?"

I've heard this question a zillion times, generally as soon as someone finds out I'm adopted. So I really should've expected my doctor to ask it when I told him I didn't have a medical history.

"Kinda sorta."
"Well, it's tough for me to give you a general bill of health unless I know what I'm looking for."
"Okay."
"Yeah, you know, every year, we find out more diseases have a genetic link to them, so a medical history can be very helpful."
"So you're saying I should start looking?"
"If I were you, I would."

I'd always been on the fence about this issue. Normally I love to learn new things, but in this case, knowledge comes with risk. What if my parents are dead? What if they're meth dealers? What if they'll try to sell me on Amway? What if they won't be proud of me? What if I'm the result of a rape? And, as Professor Anderson always said, risk aversion is the true sign of a lawyer.

But with a doctor's suggestion, I figured it might be time for me to sign up for Iowa's voluntary Adoption Reunion Registry. My mom is starting to send me the information she knows, and it turns out she knows more than I'd thought she'd known.

Birth-Mom was a student at the University of Iowa, majoring in electrical engineering (women engineers in 1981!). There would've been a whole generation gap between her and my mom. My parents listened to the Kingston Trio and Peter, Paul and Mary; Birth-Mom would've listened to The Police and Van Halen.

Birth-Mom specifically requested a Catholic family. That answers one of the big questions I'd always asked myself - considering that Iowa City has had an abortion clinic in town since the 70s, why did Birth-Mom stick it out for nine months at virtually no benefit to her?

Nothing is known of Birth-Dad, so it could have been a one-night stand… or worse.

Birth-Grandpa would be 84 if he's alive, but he'd already had a severe heart attack by the time I was born. Now I'm going to have to feel guilty every time I eat mozzarella sticks.

More remains to be found, assuming Birth-Mom signed up for the registry herself. Did she change her major? Did she graduate? Is she still Catholic? Does she still live in Iowa? Is she of Eastern European ancestry, as I've always suspected? Do I have brothers and sisters?

Would she be proud of me?

Stay tuned…

About time, New York!

2010-07-02T07:38:00.000-07:00

New York has finally joined the 21st century and passed a no-fault divorce law.

Quick historical review - in the olden days, in order to get a divorce, one spouse had to go to the court and prove that the other spouse was at fault for ruining the marriage on one of a number of specific grounds. (In Idaho, those grounds included adultery, extreme cruelty, desertion, neglect, and drunkenness.) Note that I said one spouse had to prove the grounds for divorce. If both spouses proved grounds for divorce - wife proves husband is a drunk, husband proves wife cheated - then they had to stay married!

So wife really wants a divorce, but none of those things has happened, so she goes ahead and arrange for husband to cheat on her. That'll work, right? Nope, that's collusion and/or condonation, so they have to stay married.

Since the 1970s, every state has decided this was a ridiculous process, and allowed no-fault divorce, where the spouses just have to prove that they don't want to be married any more. Every state except New York..

Most of the opposition to this law comes from the usual religious sources, but then there was this quote:

“Attorneys who line the wallets of elected officials will benefit legislatively and gain new clients from this heinous law,” said Marcia Pappas, president of the National Organization for Women’s New York chapter.

Pappas called out female legislators “who danced in the aisle as they threw women and children under the bus.”

...What?!?

In a short editorial, Pappas explains why she is campaigning vigorously against the meteor that is about to wipe out the legislative dinosaur of fault-only divorce.

Under “divorce on demand” legislation sponsored by Senator Ruth Hassell-Thompson and Assemblyman Jonathan Bing, either party can go into court, say the marriage has broken down, and get a divorce — no grounds are necessary. Approximately 95 percent of divorce cases in New York are resolved by the parties themselves, not by the judge, without going to court. This is the best possible process.

This happens in no-fault states, too. The vast majority of my cases settle out of court.

No-fault takes away any bargaining leverage the non-moneyed spouse has. Currently she can say, “If you want a divorce I’ll agree, but you have to work out a fair agreement.”

Fault-based divorce takes away any leverage an abused woman has. Currently she can say, "I'm leaving you," and her abuser can say, "You can't divorce me." Yes, she could prove up extreme cruelty, but that requires gathering a lot of evidence and using a lot of an attorney's time, making it quite expensive. Battered women generally don't have the money to do this.

Or, hypothetical #2, she says "If you want a divorce I'll agree, but you have to work out a fair agreement." Husband responds by saying, "Here's our fair agreement: you give me exactly what I want, or I'll do this," as he punches her in the eye. She reaches for her phone, but he pulls it away and breaks it over his knee. Then he grabs her by the hair, throws her to the floor, and strangles her until she passes out. Clearly wife could've used a third party, such as a lawyer, to help keep her safe during these "negotiations."

In fact, elsewhere in the same set of editorials, a Penn researcher notes that states that adopted no-fault divorce saw a 30% decrease in domestic violence, plus a drop in the suicide rate for women. One would think that the National Organization for Women would be in favor of reduced rates of domestic violence and female suicides, but whatever.

That is not “blackmail” as has been claimed by some no-fault proponents. Negotiating the terms of the breakup of a partnership is the way partnerships are dissolved in the business world. Women should have the same protection.

Partnerships in the business world don't have to prove that one of the partners is at fault for ruining the business. Why not? Because it would cost them a lot of time and money to prove this, and because it would make the partnership dissolution process more bitter.

In fairness, any partner to a marriage should be provided with notice that the other partner wants a divorce and given an opportunity to negotiate the terms for the divorce.

In the no-fault world, to initiate a divorce, the plaintiff has to give the defendant a copy of a summons that tells the defendant she's being sued, and a copy of the complaint that explains what she's being sued for. Then the defendant gives the plaintiff a copy of an answer and counterclaim, explaining what she wants out of the divorce. The parties are then free to negotiate right up until the date of the trial.

I've seen a number of divorce decrees negotiated by parties alone, with no lawyers involved. They frequently leave out assets or debts that they forgot they had (or that one spouse deliberately concealed from the other), or produce totally unworkable and/or unenforceable custody schedules. Sure, a no-lawyer divorce can work if you don't have kids, a house, a business, or a pension, but everyone else probably ought to see a lawyer.

Here in flyover country*, the parties are almost always ordered to see a mediator, who sits down with the parties and helps them negotiate divorce agreements. We have some mediators here who are absolute miracle workers, defusing conflicts and helping the parties come up with solutions they wouldn't have thought of on their own. I see no reason why New York, a state with about 12 times the population of Idaho, wouldn't have a number of qualified mediators available to assist in negotiations.

With “divorce on demand,” not only can the more-moneyed spouse begin hiding assets (which happens even under our current laws), but this spouse can proceed quickly with legal actions before the other spouse, with limited means, even has the time to find and hire an attorney.

Sure, the richer spouse can get a lawyer faster. But in the fault-only world, the richer spouse still has the advantage. The spouse with money can stop making payments on the other spouse's bills, or hide assets (as the author has acknowledged). Furthermore, if the parties are expected to negotiate without the benefit of a court, they won't be able to conduct discovery, the method lawyers use to find out things they don't know about. I've had plenty of clients who never had access to family finances and didn't know how much money was available to them until the case started and we started getting bank records, tax returns, credit applications, and so forth.

We must look at the socioeconomic standing of women in our society. Women clearly continue to be the non- or lesser moneyed spouse, as women continue to give up careers and financial independence for the role of housewife and mother. For this reason alone we must look closely at how divorce affects the lives of women and children and the role that the state should play to ensure that homemakers and children not be left destitute after divorce.

So the author has just said that the wife and the husband are in unequal socioeconomic positions, and yet the author expects the poorer wife, who may have little knowledge of the family's assets and debts, to be able to negotiate, by herself, on the same grounds as a richer, more financially involved, and probably physically stronger husband. No wonder the legislature wasn't persuaded.

*seriously, we try to tell people that Idaho isn't totally backwards and then they come out with a lottery game based on "Cheers"

Ha! Ha! I'm watching the Mariners!

2010-06-04T06:29:00.000-07:00

The Seattle Mariners have traditionally been dreadful on the field, but they have one of the more colorful marketing departments in Major League Baseball.

Last night, the Mariners reached out to the community of goddamn nerds, and provided attendees with the following bobblehead:

The Internet? In my baseball? It's more likely than you think! DO NOT WANT

(aside #1: are we transforming into a society that communicates entirely in image macros, a la Darmok and Jilad at Tanagra?)

(aside #2: it's no Funny Nose Eyeglasses Night.)

(aside #3: do you think that the guy who invented "Mr. T Ate My Balls" sometimes wishes he'd just written down the idea somewhere, then found it and posted it on the Internet ten years later?)

Book reviews

2010-05-16T14:43:00.000-07:00

From my most recent trip to Nampa's woefully inadequate library.

Idaho's Constitution: The Tie That Binds, Dennis Colson. Generally dry and informative. C+

Killing Monsters: Why Children Need Fantasy, Super Heroes, and Make-Believe Violence, Gerard Jones. Take that, Mom! Note that Mr. Jones is a comic book author so there may be a certain conflict of interest. B-

Up Till Now, William Shatner and David Fisher. Is there some kind of school you go to if you want to be a celebrity autobiography ghostwriter? Because they all have the same writing style. Most of these anecdotes appear in Shatner's talk show "Raw Nerve." C+

The Book of General Ignorance, John Lloyd and John Mitchinson. Generally well-written, but I have two bones to pick: first of all, it's no mystery why the ancient Greeks and Egyptians didn't use steam power on a grand scale, it's because their metalworking wasn't advanced enough to create a large steam boiler, and secondly, I don't care if Henry VIII said he only had two wives, we fought a goddamn war so that we didn't have to listen to the king's patently false assertions of how many marriages he had. B

On the Wealth of Nations, P.J. O'Rourke. Watch this video. If you agree with the guy with hair, you'll give this book a D-. If you agree with the bald guy, you'll give it an A-

Baudolino, Umberto Eco. Signed up for medieval adventuring and got sideswiped by gnostic hippie bullshit. C+

More Information Than You Require, John Hodgman. Basically the same thing as The Areas Of My Expertise, but not as funny. Hodgman (who is apparently my #1 celebrity lookalike) cursed himself by including a Secret World Government Recognition Test in the book and now every nerd in the goddamn country is going to approach him in public and say "Then I presume you are a noble?" C+

Bobby the Brain, Bobby Heenan and Steve Anderson. Unremarkable. C

What Grandpa Laughed At, Homer Croy. This book was written in 1948, so its jokes date from the 1890s to World War I. A couple of them are actually kinda funny. C+

Your Flying Car Awaits, Paul Milo. Not as fun as a book about flying cars and robot butlers should be. C

Heidegger and a Hippo Walk Through Those Pearly Gates, Thomas Cathcart and Daniel Klein. Borscht Belty exploration of philosophers' theories on death. B

Concise Book of Lying, Evelin Sullivan. Not a how-to manual. B-

Odd Gods: New Religions and the Cult Controversy, James R. Lewis. Less informative than Wikipedia and with more typos. I gave up halfway through in order to watch "Batman: The Brave and the Bold" on Youtube. F

The Hit Charade: Lou Pearlman, Boy Bands, and the Biggest Ponzi Scheme in U.S. History, Tyler Gray. Note that the title is a little old, *NSYNC was not involved with Bernie Madoff. Author thinks he's clever, but he could've used an accountant's help when writing about the actual scheme. C

The Innocents Abroad, Mark Twain. Twain is so quintessentially American that we don't think of him riding horseback around the Ottoman Empire, but he did, and he wrote about it. Quotable as always (shades of Groundskeeper Willie arise when he describes the Italians as a nation of "macaroni-stuffing organ grinders"). A

Is this the "" in "WIN a FREE IPOD"?

2010-04-24T07:29:00.000-07:00

From State v. Newman, just decided by the Idaho Court of Appeals:

The police were met at the parking lot by the victim and her husband, who had called the police after responding to an online advertisement for a free iPod. The victim told police that she received e-mails from the person posting the ad directing her to come to the park after dark to retrieve the free iPod from a portable restroom.

100 people who would make better replacements for Oprah than Rosie O'Donnell

2010-04-20T05:53:00.000-07:00

1. Greg Gumbel
2. Michael Palin
3. Edie McClurg
4. James Lipton
5. Summer Sanders
6. Vladimir Putin
7. Cheri Oteri
8. Robert Smith (of the Cure)
9. Robert Smith (former NFL running back)
10. Robert Smith (NPR reporter)
11. Rowdy Roddy Piper
12. Bar Refaeli
13. Jim J. Bullock
14. Stephanie "Flo the Progressive Girl" Courtney
15. Linus Torvalds
16. Your dad's high-school girlfriend
17. Dr. Sue Johanson
18. Katee Sackhoff
19. Philip Glass
20. Alex Chiu
21. Snookie
22. "Spaceman" Bill Lee
23. Ezra Klein
24. Bernadette Peters
25. The ashes of Peter Tomarken, in a jar
26. Elena Kagan
27. Garrison Keillor
28. Mario Vargas Llosa
29. Aung San Soo Kyi
30. KCRG TV-9's Bruce Aune
31. Steve Perry
32. Delta Burke
33. George Clinton
34. Rev. Joyce Meyer
35. Rev. Jeremiah Wright
36. Dan Issel
37. Nigel Tufnel
38. Erin Moran
39. A glossy publicity still of Angelina Jolie
40. El Hijo de Santo
41. Gene Ray, The Wisest Human
42. Marina Sirtis
43. Alec Baldwin
44. Alec Baldwin, drunk
45. Jane Goodall
46. Roger Ailes
47. Knuckles the Echidna
48. Michael Bay
49. A Greek guy who trolls Turks on Wikipedia
50. Malinalxochitl, Aztec goddess of desert animals
51. Hayley Mills
52. Hank Paulson
53. Kim Basinger
54. Terry Tate, Office Linebacker
55. Carry A. Nation (via Ouija board)
56. Mary Lynn Rajskub
57. Tay "Chocolate Rain" Zonday
58. Helen MIrren
59. Fannie Flagg
60. Phil Hellmuth
61. Mr. Roush, my elementary school principal
62. Downtown Julie Brown
63. Snarf from "Thundercats"
64. Gordon Ramsay
65. Liza Minelli
66. Grignr
67. Kim Carnes
68. Rex Rammell
69. Sir David Attenborough
70. Dramatic Chipmunk
71. Xuxa
72. That androgynous kid who used to run around Iowa City wearing a jester hat, seriously what was with that
73. Gen. David Petraeus
74. Will Ferrell as Mugatu
75 & 76. England Dan and John Ford Coley
77. Morgan Fairchild
78. Jean Teasdale
79. The Evil Midnight Bomber What Bombs At Midnight
80. Brian Blessed
81. Christo
82. Chairman Kaga
83. "Landscape with the Fall of Icarus" by Pieter Brueghel the Elder
84. Jessica Pare
85. Marlee Matlin
86. The United States Marine Corps Band, performing the hits of John Philip Sousa
87. Claude Lemieux
88. Heather Mills McCartney
89. A bored teenager who rolls his eyes and makes the "you're a jackoff" hand motion when the guests talk
90. Dylan Moran
91. Peter Frampton
92. Tony Little
93. Oprah herself, sampled from previous episodes
94. Peyton Manning
95. Courtney Love
96. A man purporting to be Emperor Norton I
97. Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster
98. Alan Thicke
99. A mechanical fortune teller
100. All 99 people above, talking simultaneously

The tale of Nibru

2010-04-12T06:41:00.000-07:00

Maybe you knew an art kid in high school. The kind of kid who spent most of his or her time drawing Big, Meaningful Art that was pretty good by high school standards, and whose Art usually expressed teen angst.

One such art kid produced Nibru:

Then the art kid decided to post Nibru on the Internet. Not to DeviantArt, the normal hugbox for teenage artists. No, the art kid posted Nibru at ConceptArt, an art site for aspiring professional artists.

Something about Nibru caught their attention, and soon some extremely talented illustrators (including guys who draw for Marvel Comics) were drawing their own versions of Nibru:

Go here for the whole Nibru story.

On teenagers

2010-04-05T17:36:00.000-07:00

I was in the supermarket today and saw (in Us Magazine) that a 15-year-old exchange student in Massachusetts killed herself, and now the other students who bullied here are facing criminal charges.

Seeing this headline was like biting into the proverbial madeleine for me, as my own memories of junior high came rushing back, and I suddenly found myself in the place of an unhappy teenager (albeit one with a cart full of groceries).

So, thought the teenager, here are my options. I can continue with life as is, which is intolerable. I can tell the teachers or my parents or the police, who are well-meaning but ultimately unable to prevent my suffering. I can fight back, but there are always more of them than there are of me.

Or, there's a way by which I become famous, everyone will whitewash all the bad information about me,* all the bullies go to jail and are exposed in the national news as the evil little wretches they are, and maybe state legislators will get together to write "[Insert My Name Here]'s Law," and there'll be a movie about me on Lifetime wherein I'm portrayed by a very good looking young Canadian.

If you think the last option doesn't appeal to teenagers, then I recommend you do a study of Mary Sueism, the habit of immature authors to create infinitely powerful, infinitely wonderful author avatar characters… who frequently die heroically.

So what is the lesson to be learned here? The lesson is that there is no answer to bullying, and that teenage victims need to understand what Alexander was trying to teach them many years ago when he told them about his terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.

*Yes, some kids do have it coming. Anyone who knew me before 10th grade or so can attest to how insufferable I was.

Photo time

2010-03-01T17:37:00.000-08:00

Went to Salt Lake City this weekend. Pictures here. Motivation to write clever description on blog running low.

Domestic violence news update

2010-02-26T06:28:00.000-08:00

• A while back I wrote about New York Assemblyman Hiram Monserrate, who was convicted of domestic assault and has just been kicked out of the state Senate. Governor Paterson supports the move, and calls attention to potential witness intimidation.

But wait, there's more! One of Paterson's top aides is now under investigation for domestic violence, and Paterson allegedly called the victim himself to convince her to keep quiet.

Lame Weekend-Update-Style Punch Line: In related news, New York announced its new tourism slogan: "If I Can't Love New York, Nobody Can."

• As part of his promotion for a new ~~stimulus~~ jobs bill, Sen. Harry Reid announced that unemployed men are more likely to beat their wives. This is certainly plausible. After all, domestic violence is primarily a control issue, and many abusers are narcissists who need to maintain their images at all costs. Lose his job and he's lost control of your life, and his image, which was tied up in his job, is seriously damaged. The abuser needs to reassert control somewhere else.

That said, Sen. Reid's argument sounds a little like an argument to put more police on patrol in high-crime neighborhoods order to keep late-night coffee shops in business, and carries the nasty undertone that people who oppose the bill not only hate jobs, but hate women as well. The reason the government wants to reduce unemployment is not because of the secondary effects of unemployment. The reason the government wants to reduce unemployment is because unemployment is bad in and of itself.

Off to change all my passwords...

2010-02-25T15:41:00.000-08:00

I have learned that a book containing my family tree is now available through Google Books. It was initially interesting to have the search feature available to see if anyone was murdered (one), or if I'm the only one in Idaho (another guy's second wife is from Jerome), and then the information that a bunch of them seem to have died fighting for the Germans on the Eastern Front.

And then I realized that anyone with good Internet skills can find the answers to two very common security questions - my mother's maiden name and my place of birth. Of course, they could've found this out beforehand by buying the book, but if someone's going to steal my identity, I'd at least like them to go to the effort of spending thirty bucks or so on the project.

Useful if you're writing alternate history about Romans

2010-02-19T19:14:00.000-08:00

The Catholic Church officially names all its dioceses* in Latin, but they can be maddeningly inconsistent with translations of local names.

For example, in the United States, you'll find an Archidioecesis Ludovicopolitana, a Dioecesis Petriculana, and a Dioecesis Rubribaculensis, but you'll also find a Dioecesis Bridgeportensis and a Dioecesis de Fairbanks.

Why does Santa Fe become Sanctes Fides, but Las Cruces stays Las Cruces? Shouldn't Iowa have something like Monachi? And why do I live near Xylopolis?

NEEEEEEERRRRRRRRDDDDDDDSSSS

2010-02-17T16:51:00.000-08:00

Alexander Stern is not very good at video games. Not his fault, of course; he's just got some kind of unspecified "visual processing impairment."* He says that because he's disabled, he's unable to "fully enjoy[] the video games manufactured by Sony.... As a result, [he] has not acquired the items some players of video games amass through their play.... Nor has [he] progressed as far or as successfully in the video games to provide him with sufficient knowledge of the games to meaningfully interact with fellow video game enthusiasts at the conventions and other events Sony organizes to promote the video games."

Rather than visit GameFAQs or enter cheat codes or find a different goddamn hobby, Mr. Stern decided his best option would be to file suit against Sony under the Americans with Disabilities Act.

His theory was that because he wasn't any good at the games, he was effectively denied access to Sony's conventions, and Sony was using the games as a test to screen out the disabled so that Sonywouldn't have to accommodate their disabilities - which is a little like saying that failing to allow a blind skater to participate in roller derby is just a ruse to keep her from bringing her guide dog to Rollercon.

Judge Percy Anderson of the Central District of California ruled that no, Americans do not have the constitutional or statutory right to pwn noobs. (I cannot believe I just typed that.)

*Note that some therapists consider OCD to be a visual processing disorder, which might also motivate someone to be so focused on beating a game to cause him to file a lawsuit to make it happen.

I'll be sure to dress nicer next time I go to WinCo

2010-02-05T11:39:00.000-08:00

This map of state-by-state locations for Craiglist "Missed Encounters" posts will teach you about lots of regional stores, fulfill some of your stereotypes (either about certain parts of America or about Craigslist posters), and leave you wondering why there are no lesbians in the Dakotas.

Instilling discipline at a young age

2010-02-01T12:09:00.000-08:00

From a recent Iowa Court of Appeals decision:

The reported incidents included: (1) the biological father spanking Nicholas while he was a newborn in the neonatal intensive care unit...

Now, surely some of you will note that I am not a parent and don't know what it's like to be one, but how could anyone possibly think that newborns had the intellectual capacity to understand concepts such as punishment for misbehavior? (Unless he was a Scientologist who was trying to instill some engrams.)

Indianapolis has an art museum?

2010-01-28T08:15:00.000-08:00

The next time an NFL team pleads for public financing for a stadium and needs to argue for the public benefit to the community, it should consider the bet made between the Indianapolis Museum of Art and the New Orleans Museum of Art.

If the Saints beat the Colts next Sunday, IMA will loan NOMA J.M.W. Turner's The Fifth Plague of Egypt. If the Colts win, NOMA will loan IMA Claude Lorrain's Ideal View of Tivoli.

Be sure and read the art world's attempt at trash talk.

What would we do without social science?

2010-01-22T13:41:00.000-08:00

According to Hazel Markus of Stanford University, "...the enormous opportunity for growth and self-advancement that flows from unlimited freedom of choice may diminish rather than enhance subjective well-being."

So, basically, Stanford is only getting around to discoveries that New Wave groups understood thirty years ago.

(Note that Wikipedia gets this song totally wrong, claiming it's about Aesop's Dog and the Bone when it's pretty clearly about Burdian's ass, dog and bone metaphors nonwithstanding.)

A brief discussion of political budgeting

2010-01-13T16:16:00.000-08:00

It has come to my attention that Idaho's governor, Butch Otter, has proposed a budget that contains cuts to education and parks. Naturally, the public is up in arms... which is just what I think the governor wanted.

I think Governor Otter is looking for political capital to increase taxes, using the time-honored strategy of presenting the most popular services as the first ones to be cut. For example, any time anyone wants to cut public broadcasting, "Sesame Street" is the first show headed for the chopping block, and President Obama got rid of the world's most advanced fighter jet rather than some other military program. So, obviously, the only way to save these popular programs is to pony up more money.

Now, some would say that Governor Otter is opposed to tax increases, and perhaps he is, personally. But in his role as governor, he has to favor higher taxes and more services, because it increases the power of his office to distribute benefits to the people who elected him, and makes those same people more reliant on his re-election.

There's another time-honored method the state could use if it wanted to pay expenses the voters didn't want - lawsuit funding. Under this plan, organizations that are facing budget cuts sue the state for some reason or another, and the state mounts an ineffective defense (or, if nobody in the press is paying attention, defaults). The state is ordered to make the payments, and the politicians get to blame the "activist judges" for ruining their sure-fire plan to end government waste.

Then again, the city that pioneered that strategy isn't doing so well.

Programmed in multiple techniques

2010-01-11T06:41:00.000-08:00

So, science has finally got around to creating a robot lover.

This seems like a mistake, as the first-generation models are likely to be so expensive that only the wealthy and powerful can afford them, and you would think that the wealthy and powerful don't really lack for lovers. Oh, sure, you could pitch in with some of your buddies and co-own one, but that might be unsanitary.

The second problem is that the market for robot lovers has fallen off since its peak demand in the late 70s and the 80s, when robot love was as popular as Cabbage Patch dolls and ninjas. Don't believe me? Try the following examples:

• Dee D. Jackson's "Automatic Lover" (1978), which might be the funniest thing you'll see today
• "Heartbeeps" (1981), based on the premise that it's not creepy if the robots fall in love with each other
• ELO's "Yours Truly 2095"(1982), displaying advances in robot voice technology since 1978
• Paulie's robot in "Rocky IV" (1986), which had an implied sex component
• "Cherry 2000" (1987), with a cameo by Gort
• Data and Yar getting it on in a 1987 episode of "Star Trek: The Next Generation"

Shatnermania!

2010-01-06T16:04:00.000-08:00

Two Shatner posts in a row? Yes, The Shat will be hosting WWE Raw on February 1.

In my dream world, the end product would look something like this.

Overflowing with Bombast

2009-12-31T13:14:00.000-08:00

Rush Limbaugh's recent trip to the hospital reminded me to post the Limbaugh-Shatner interview, which is really fantastic. Even if you dislike Limbaugh (I can't imagine any of you disliking Shatner), you may enjoy this interview, as Shatner and Limbaugh's styles play off each other quite well.

Part I:

Part II:

Part III:

What the hell is a "Stanford situation?"

2009-12-22T20:10:00.000-08:00

Warning: Post contains football.

When ex-BSU coach Houston Nutt was acclaimed as the "inventor" of the Wildcat formation, those of us who are total nerds thought, "Wait a minute, isn't this just the single wing?"

The single wing was the dominant football offense well into the 1960s, and like the Wildcat, it featured an unbalanced line, long snaps, and an emphasis on running. (Note that single wing formations are different than shotgun: shotgun snaps are high, with the center looking ahead, whereas single wing snaps are line drives, with the center looking beneath his legs.)

You can watch Michigan use the single wing (along with some line shifts that are utterly illegal today) to demolish USC in the 1948 Rose Bowl here.

Fortuitously, you can read Michigan's playbook for this game right here. You can get another exposition of how the offense works from Iowa State's 1968 playbook, devised by future Pittsburgh and Tennessee coach Johnny Majors. The Majors playbook also contains an interesting strategy section, so you'll always know what to do when the defense lines up in a Stanford situation and when to call a first down punt.

An idea someone else will make money off of

2009-12-21T04:16:00.000-08:00

Self-help books written by the mentally ill. If done correctly, they could make for funny reading, as well as provide insight into abnormal thought processes, in much the same way you can learn about autism by reading A Class in Spookville or Sonichu*

You could start with Seven Habits of the Highly Effective Sociopath, then move on to Who Moved My Cheese, and Who is He Working For? (from the paranoid), I'm OK, I'm Not OK, I'm the King of Alaska (bipolar I), He's Just Not That Into You, Probably Because of Something You Did, Now He's Leaving You Just Like Daddy Did, He Can't Do This! (borderline personality), Everything You Would Want to Know About Sex, If You Cared (schizoid), and What Color is Your Parachute? Mine is Red. You Know, Leonardo da Vinci Designed a Parachute in the 1600s, But The First Successful Parachute Was Tested in 1783 by Louis-Sebastien Lenormand… (Asperger's)

*note that this particular rabbit hole goes down quite deep, and contains some non-work-safe material

A story for your kids

2009-12-11T06:53:00.000-08:00

Do you know why the government that's bigger than a city but smaller than a state is called a "county?" It's because every one has its own count.

And like most counts, these counts are vampires. But they're friendly vampires. The count for each county (Count Ada, Count Canyon, Count Payette, etc.) is only allowed to travel around his county and is responsible for chasing away ghosts, Frankensteins, and other monsters. When a count dies, the county commissioners get together and pick a new count, who moves into the secret hidden castle that you might be able to find on Google Maps if you look hard.

This is true in every state except Louisiana (where the French settlers entrusted supernatural defense to priests, hence "parishes") and Alaska (vampires like to live there because of the long nights in the winter, so they have whole colonies of friendly vampires who live in underground burrows, so the counties are replaced by "boroughs").

Were You Aware Of It?

2009-12-09T06:31:00.000-08:00

Many of the seven hundred hobo names presented in my long-lost twin brother John Hodgman's book The Areas Of My Expertise would be good names for roller derby participants?

10. Whispering-Lies McGruder
17. Name Withheld
27. The Damned Swede
29. Ol' Barb Stab-You-Quick
33. Sweet Daddy Champagne
70. Slow Motion Jones
77. Stun Gun Jones
82. Stick-Legs McOhio
93. Bathsheba Ditz
95. Lolly Hoot Holler
102. Chrysler LeBaron
125. Zaxxon Galaxian
175. Commodore Sixty-Four
178. Fast-Neck Nell
212. Cecilia Graveside
243. Lord Winston Two-Monocles
260. Mastiff Mama
271. Laura Delite
283. Professor Challenger
315. Maury the Monsoon
326. The Railbender
348. Itinerant Jane
429. Four-Fisted Jock Socko
455. Battling Joe Frickenfrack
468. Dr. Nobel Dynamite
477. Unshakably Morose Flo
512. Bum-Hating Virgil Hate-Bum
545. Andrea Clarke, the Human Shark
628. Stinging Polly Papercuts
630. The Wisconsin Scourge
662. La Grippe
694. Mallory Many-Bruises

What is the dumbest thing?

2009-12-03T11:44:00.000-08:00

Some people think that sexting is the dumbest thing. Other people think that backyard wrestling is the dumbest thing. Still others would nominate the Word of Faith movement, or the nine-hundred-page racist rape-promoting roleplaying game, or Mike Huckabee's clemency process, or panties with Robert Pattinson's face on the inside.

A new nominee comes from the Washington Court of Appeals in State v. Thompson.

Eighty-year-old Shirley Crawford gave her friend Judith Thompson a power of attorney to handle her financial affairs while she was in a nursing home. Judith and her husband James promptly funneled about $400,000 worth of funds (including money she got from selling Shirley's house) into their own pockets. But that's not the dumbest thing.

The dumbest thing happened when Adult Protection Services got involved. The Thompsons showed up with a videotape. And the contents of the tape?

On the video, Judith and James and other members of the Thompson family are shown gathered in Crawford's nursing home room. Judith Thompson hands a typed statement to Crawford. James Thompson tells Crawford that he wrote it from things that she said. Judith Thompson reads from the statement, which is written in the first person as if Crawford were speaking. It includes statements such as, "I wanted Jim and Judy to have my house." The video shows Crawford nodding and agreeing with the statements.

The Thompsons were shocked when they were charged with witness tampering. Judith testified at trial:

She said they had gifted Crawford's estate to themselves in order to protect it from would-be thieves....

I think that deserves consideration as the dumbest thing.

New pix

2009-11-29T19:30:00.000-08:00

I was in Seattle over Thanksgiving, and my cousin and I went down to the old part of town for a short photo tour.

View the results here.

Not gay if it's football!

2009-11-23T16:00:00.000-08:00

Scholars at the University of Bristol are trying to determine if there is a relationship between good looks and athletic ability, so they polled Dutch women to determine who they thought were the best-looking quarterbacks in the NFL.

The winner was...

...Tom Brady, and that's clearly because good looks were part of the package he received when he murdered Chandra Levy and sacrificed her remains to Satan. But the second-place finisher was...

...Ben Roethlisberger? Huh?

I'm no expert on what women like, but I would think that there are other quarterbacks in the league who are better looking than Ben Roethlisberger, such as, say, Drew Brees...

Matt Ryan...

or Kyle Orton...

(Okay, maybe not Kyle Orton.)

The City... of the Future!

2009-11-17T06:16:00.000-08:00

I'm sure that when you were 13 years old, you probably had a really cool idea that you thought was going to fix the future. Most of us have since grown up and realized that 85% of the ideas we have when we're 13 are crap.

And then there's Orville Simpson II.

Orv had an idea for the City of the Future in 1936. He grew up, became a landlord, and in 1960, he started drawing Victory City.

It contains all the standard utopian promises (houses 350,000 people in 3 square miles! costs 1/10th of a regular city! free education and health care! even goddamn monorails!) and it's as beautiful as it is practical:

Despite the fact that my surname approximately means "victory city," I'm too much of a cynic to be convinced. But if your life doesn't have enough of the "Jetsons" aesthetic in it and you're ready to make the dream happen, why not invest a few bucks? (Note: I strongly suspect that his $100 million estimate to build a Victory City hasn't been adjusted for inflation since 1936.)

December is National Novel Criticism Month

2009-11-03T06:26:00.000-08:00

I know at least one of my readers is writing a novel this month, and more of you may be doing so. (I'm not, largely because I can only come up with a two-paragraph plot summary, and I'd have to futz around for 40,000 words to get from the setup to the conclusion.)

Anyway, here's an essay by George Eliot entitled "Silly Novels by Lady Novelists," the point of which applies to most first-time novelists, be they lady or gentleman. Namely, novels that are written as your wish fulfillment fantasy are not going to be any good, and perfect heroes are boring.

The New York Times is a classy bunch

2009-10-27T09:02:00.000-07:00

So New York's got an abusive boyfriend in its Senate. Hiram Monserrate (D-Queens) allegedly slashed his girlfriend with a piece of glass across her face when he found another man's business card in her purse. He then dragged her back to his apartment and refused to call 911.

They both told the police that he tripped while carrying a glass of water, and now he says he wants to marry her.

Clyde Haberman of the Times decides to respond to the story by writing about what kind of glassware to get them for the wedding.

Whether you think this is funny or not (I don't - it's a rather lame attempt at dark comedy), it's not the sort of thing one would expect to see in the New York Times, which is supposed to be a paragon of journalism, not a staging ground for potentially offensive op-eds.

Boring blather re: megachurches

2009-10-17T15:15:00.001-07:00

Today I went to an event at a large, non-denominational church in Garden City. Apart from the fact that it's not right next to a freeway, it fits all the characteristics of a megachurch.

The whole place made me vaguely uncomfortable. I am used to having coffee and donuts in a church basement, but I'm not used to having a full espresso bar and bookstore on site. (Yes, the espresso bar is called "Holy Grounds.")

Although I am not a religious person, I'm not really keen on the megachurch emphasis on inclusiveness and positivity above all things. (In fact, the idea of an inclusive community strikes me as an oxymoron - a "community" that doesn't have common beliefs and interests isn't a community at all.) Just as Charlie Brown thought that there was a difference between philosophy and a bumper sticker, I think there's a difference between holy scriptures and a self-help book, and a difference between a pastor and a motivational speaker.

While I was there, I was in a classroom for their home school cooperative, and I was reminded of one of the great mysteries of school: why they try to teach you to write a cursive upper-case "Q" like the number 2 when no adult actually does this. I think Ramona Quimby also had strong feelings on this issue.

Connie! Why don't you love me like you love this chocolate?!?

2009-10-14T06:21:00.000-07:00

This week's blog find is Psychotic Letters from Men. If you enjoy cringing at the antics of creepy guys, this site will take up a lot of your time.

Many of these men appear to suffer from the delusion that it is possible to make anyone like you if you just try hard enough. I think some children's literature and programming feed that delusion by trying to encourage friendship above all things, when in reality, some people just have interests that diverge too widely, or personalities that clash too often, to make friendship (or romance) possible between them. If I were in charge of children's programming, I'd try to teach kids what to do with people who can't be friends with you, which is why I will probably never be in charge of children's programming.

The women in these stories frequently get restraining orders. In Idaho, most of them would not be eligible for civil protection orders. Idaho law only offers civil protection orders for people who were in domestic relationships (so if you just went on a couple of dates, you can't get one) and who are in imminent danger of domestic violence (so if he didn't hit you or threaten to hit you, you can't get one). If you're in Idaho and you're being stalked, but you're not eligible for a civil protection order, keep all the evidence (photos, text messages, voice mails, emails, Myspace/Facebook posts, whatever) and turn it in to the police. With enough evidence, you might be able to get the stalker charged with criminal stalking.

If you like the author of Psychotic Letters from Men, you can visit his other blog at Why Women Hate Men.

Adventures in sleep

2009-10-12T05:08:00.000-07:00

I sleep next to my computer. It provides background noise that helps me sleep. That's important for this story.

When I woke up on Sunday morning, I saw a note in Stickies that hadn't been there when I went to sleep. It read "Vilsack noetimfy."

Clearly whatever I had been dreaming about was important enough that I felt like I had to noetimfy U.S. Secretary of Agriculture Tom Vilsack about it. (Stolen subsidy money? A new super-efficient fertilizer? A plot to poison America's crops? And is the latter actually Janet Napolitano's territory?)

When I woke up on Monday morning, I had two missed calls on my phone from a number I didn't recognize. They had been placed at 12:50 AM. According to Google, the number was a pay phone in Moscow. (Moscow, Idaho, not Moscow, Russia. If I'd had calls from a pay phone in Moscow, Russia, I would've wondered if I had actually uncovered a plot to poison America's crops.)

Stay tuned for future exciting tales, or tales that pass for exciting in my dreary excuse for a life.

One Nagging Thing

2009-10-06T19:40:00.000-07:00

The email edition of the British Psychological Society asked its members each to share one nagging thing they don't understand about themselves. Read their answers here.

Naturally, this segues into me thinking about one nagging thing I don't understand about myself.

Many psychologists have written about the phenomenon of illusory superiority, in which people are not only incompetent at certain tasks, but continue to believe they are average or above-average at those tasks. (Think Peggy Hill.)

So: am I really good at the things at which I think I am good, or am I bad at those things and unaware of it? And is there any way to find out if I'm right or wrong?

Feel free to think about this and post a nagging thing you don't understand about yourself, if you want.

Posted for posterity

2009-10-01T16:27:00.001-07:00

Some of the rollergirls* have been bugging me about being one of the few non-inked league members. Those of you reading this blog certainly know that I kneel at the altar of the status quo, and that the money for a tattoo could probably be spent better on other things, like, say, a table or a bed frame.

Nevertheless, I will bow to peer pressure, conditionally:

If the Iowa Hawkeyes beat the The Ohio State University Buckeyes on November 14, I will get a tattoo. The design of said tattoo will be determined if it becomes necessary to do so.

*Speaking of rollergirls, Roger Ebert gives "Whip It" three and a half stars. If you're in the Treasure Valley, you can catch a showing with some of our local rollergirls tomorrow at 7pm at Edwards Theater on Overland in Boise or near the decaying remains of Karcher Mall in Nampa.

Coming soon to Oprah's Book Club

2009-09-23T17:00:00.000-07:00

Noted Internet autistic/OCD/generally weird guy Nick "Ulillillia" Smith, whose life consists mainly of eating cheese pizzas while sitting on the floor of his room, playing Sonic the Hedgehog and listening to the Baby Looney Tunes theme, has turned his life experience into a novel for the ages.

Well, maybe it's more like a screenplay. But either way, you can own The Legend of the 10 Elemental Masters in paperback for only $12.95.

Its opening passage is as riveting as they come:

May 27, 1999 at 4:07 UTC - 54 hours, 52 minutes remaining

Knuckles glides north 1500 feet above Lake Sakakawea at 800 mph following Highway 83. A small thunderstorm is somewhat visible to the south. The sky is 3/8 scattered with cirrus clouds and 1/8 scattered with altostratus clouds. The wind is 15 mph with gusts to 20 mph. A few small patches of snow in ditches, some with water, are visible but hard to see due to the speed. A 40-second pause in speech occurs while credits display on screen.

Knuckles resembles a human, but with differences. Knuckles is neither male nor female, though referred to as a "he". Three-quarter-inch-thick dark-violet-colored (FFA000E0) fur covers his entire body. He is only 25 1/3 inches tall, 4 inches wide, and 2.5 inches deep. Knuckles gets his name from his large hands, 40% bigger than a human his size would have. A reflective, glittery, greenish (FFA0FF00) haze half a millimeter across borders his pupil. Knuckles has no nose and a mouth 2/3 as big. Every other aspect of his is that of what a human would have for his size. For details on the numerical colors (in parenthesis), see appendix 5.

Will this be the first of a string of hits from Uli? Or will he retire from writing knowing that his first novel could never be topped, a la Harper Lee? Time will tell...

Etiquette

2009-09-11T16:49:00.000-07:00

The trend of putting decals on the back of your vehicle that represent your family kinda snuck up on me. Granted, lots of trends sneak up on me - it's 2009 and I've never heard any music by Kanye West or Radiohead, and I'm not sure what "The Hills" is about - but this trend strikes me as a trend that's fraught with etiquette issues. For example:

1. When a family breaks up, which parent gets to display the child on the sticker?
2. When you have a blended family, should the children be shown next to the parent that sired them, or in a group with each other?
3. Can you keep the sticker on your car after Child Protective Services takes the child away?
4. Is it bad form to display decals for angel babies? Should said decals have wings and halos? Would it be the most obnoxious way to make money off of miscarriages? (Probably not.)
5. Is the next step decals of caricature portraits with giant heads and tiny bodies holding objects that represent one's personality?

Hey, my work is topical!

2009-09-04T17:55:00.000-07:00

White House official Cass Sunstein promoted opt-out organ donation in his book "Nudge." (Click here to read about it if you're a Democrat, click here to read about it if you're a Republican.)

Is that constitutionally permissible? Find out by reading this thrill-a-minute article I wrote in law school about this very topic.

Fearless Prediction

2009-09-01T21:31:00.000-07:00

By the end of the year 2010, at least one person will have filed suit against the manufacturers of the Tiddy Bear, claiming that the Tiddy Bear aggravated injuries the person suffered in an auto accident. Regardless of who wins the suit, the manufacturers will decide that the Tiddy Bear is too great a liability and will discontinue the product.

Radio morning show guys will seize upon the opportunity to talk about the Tiddy Bear, because it is funny to say "Tiddy," because "Tiddy" sounds like "Titty."

Plots for Potential Sequels to William Carlos Williams' Poem "The Red Wheelbarrow"

2009-08-24T16:15:00.001-07:00

• A man arrives. He was planning to haul dirt in the red wheelbarrow and now he is frustrated that the wheelbarrow is wet.
• The rain continues until the rainwater becomes a breeding ground for mosquitos.
• The white chickens are startled when a dog runs by.
• The rain causes a flash flood. Both the red wheelbarrow and the white chickens are swept away.
• A Code Enforcement official cites the owner of the property for raising white chickens in a zone where animal husbandry is not permitted.
• Because the white chickens have two legs, Snowball declares that they are collaborators with the old regime, and they are executed. The red wheelbarrow is used to carry their bodies away.
• A tenth-grader raises her hand and says, "I don't get it."

A message from the Nampa Meridian Irrigation District

2009-08-13T16:50:00.000-07:00

Listen up, everybody. Here's a puzzle to solve.

First, the facts.

Every year, young children, teenagers, and adults drown in Idaho irrigation canals.

Now, the question.

If you know that canals kill people, why would you ever go near a canal, or let someone you love get even close to a canal?

Take a few seconds to think about it. Your answer could mean the difference between life and death.

(tick-tock tick-tock)

Okay, here's the answer.

People drown in irrigation canals because they don't realize that irrigation canals are merciless, cold-hearted, murdering death traps that were erected partially to provide water, and partially to provide defense against invading Californians.

They don't realize how cold, swift, and deep the water is. The water may look like it's not flowing fast, but that's because it's actually flowing so fast that the human eye can't keep up with it.

They don't know that the chances of getting out of a canal are about... zero. The canals are filled with the angry ghosts of people who have previously died in them, and the spirits will drag you to the bottom. And when you die in a canal, you can't ever go to heaven. You become a canal ghost too.

Above: A picture of a canal ghost.

In fact, if you are in a canal, the rescuers won't even bother to try to save you. They'll just point at you and laugh while you are overcome by the hideous deluge.

They think it's OK for kids to go near canals as long as an adult is present. These people deserve it when their children die.

They ignore the cardinal rule of canal safety: If you see a canal, you should run screaming in the opposite direction.

But don't run so far that you fall into another canal.

Did Betsy Ross have this information?

2009-08-11T13:14:00.000-07:00

If you have to get your clothes custom-made by the Department of Defense, you might want to know that there are six types of male posture: normal, erect, forward or stooped, half-stout, stout, and corpulent.

If you are a woman with a big bottom, the military will describe you as having a "prominent seat."

Step 1, admit there is a problem

2009-08-10T17:30:00.000-07:00

Wrestling.

I can't believe I'm watching pro wrestling again.

I first kicked the habit in about 2002 - or rather, the habit kicked me, because I got sick and tired of the lack of entertaining wrestlers and of Boring Invincible Triple H.

Three things have brought me back into the fold.

1. John Morrison. Not only does Morrison have an extremely entertaining gimmick with extremely entertaining interviews, but he also does stuff like this.

2. Grey Dog Software's wrestling management games. Total Extreme Wrestling 2005 was recently released as freeware, and I will generally play any sort of management game - hell, Championship Manager is what got me watching soccer. I highly recommend getting the 1983 scenario for TEW05. Who hasn't dreamed of being head writer for the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling?

3. CHIKARA. Thanks to the Internet, I can watch footage of CHIKARA, a Philadelphia-based promotion that lives up to my personal creed, namely, wrestling should be fun. How fun is CHIKARA? Well, let's see.

• CHIKARA is home to the Osirian Portal, an Ancient Egyptian tag team with fantastic talent. Watch the signature moves of Amasis, the Funky Pharoah, and Ophidian, the Venomous and Vile Serpent from the Nile. (The Duat Driver is the best finisher since the Hangman DDT that I used as my finisher back in WWF No Mercy for N64.)

• "Wait," you may be asking. "Was Amasis just wrestling a guy with a Nintendo controller on his tights?" Yes, that's Player Uno of the Super Smash Brothers. He's been known to use Koopa shells and fatalities. Watch Delirious get under his skin here.

• And what about Los Ice Creams, the wrestling ice-cream cones? Problems arise when they face the lactose-intolerant Colin Olsen.

• Then check out Darkness Crabtree, wrestling octogenarian, in a series of matches against time-traveling knight Lance Steel. (Note: Lance Steel would later form a tag team with… Lance Steel, another time-traveling version of himself.)

• But what is a knight without a dragon to fight?

• If you're a fan of extreme-style wrestling, you'll enjoy the occasional grenade-throwing at CHIKARA matches.

• If you prefer serious technicians, you might enjoy Claudio Castagnoli.

I've only scratched the CHIKARA surface, but beneath it you'll find evil space mantises, patriotic gorillas, sea monsters, impromptu kicking lessons, and spontaneous dance-offs. All the things wrestling should be.

...and a Divorce Tip

2009-08-07T09:18:00.000-07:00

Before you get divorced, make sure you are married.

Marriage Tip from the Divorce Lawyer

2009-08-07T06:33:00.000-07:00

Hot tip for those of you who are thinking of getting married:

Make sure that you are not currently married to someone else.

In my four months as a divorce lawyer, I have handled two marriages that were annulled due to bigamy and one case where the client took a deal that wasn't necessarily in her best interest in order to finish her divorce before her wedding date.

I know it's no fun to be single, especially if you're a needy person like so many of us are, but you might think about just not dating anyone between the time you separate and the date you get divorced. The opposite sex will still be there when you get your decree.

The only place in the world where I'm a Humane Internationalist

2009-08-05T16:30:00.000-07:00

Slate.com is putting together a survey of what will destroy America. I encourage you to participate.

The above-mentioned Humane Internationalist rating is probably because I think that America will be destroyed largely by Americans and the rest of the world will outlive America (if not necessarily in good shape).

Professionalism in Action

2009-07-28T20:14:00.000-07:00

A local family law attorney, who shall remain nameless, uses a picture of Babs Bunny from "Tiny Toon Adventures" on the "About Me" page of her firm's web site.

Those of you with sharp pattern recognition skills may be saying to yourselves, "I bet this is the part where he says what would be worse, and then says what he would've done instead." Give yourselves a pat on the back.

What Would Be Worse: Tweety Bird with "attitude." I don't know when or why Tweety Bird became a mascot for the extremely obese, and yet it happened.

What I Would've Done Instead: Animated .GIF of Don Music banging his head on the keyboard. (Big Ups to you if you can find this .GIF somewhere.)

Sliming nostalgia

2009-07-24T17:32:00.000-07:00

Les Lye, who played every adult character on "You Can't Do That On Television," died Tuesday in Ottawa. (Which is a sensible alternative to living in Ottawa. RIM SHOT!)

This is the time when a lot of my readers will think to themselves, "Man, 'You Can't Do That On Television' was awesome!" Those readers are advised not to watch any clips of the show on Youtube if they want their memories to remain fond.

I clearly remember one female cast member being the frequent butt of fat jokes. That's fine and dandy in grown-up shows with grown-up casts: after all, once you turn 18, you should be aware that the world is full of people who will say mean things about you for their own amusement, whether you deserve them or not. However, a different standard applies to preteens*. Especially if the show's writers were adults. Perhaps the show was in worse taste than it intended to be.

*Every time I write "preteens" I get an excuse to link to "Pre-Teen World," from a much funnier Canadian sketch comedy show.

Options to replace the retiring Car Czar

2009-07-14T21:28:00.000-07:00

• The Car Pope
• The Car Commissar
• The Car Shogun
• The Car Junta
• The Car Archon
• The Car Ayatollah
• The Car Lawgiver
• Il Duce delle Automobili
• His Excellency President for Life, Field Marshal Al Hadji Doctor Car Administrator, VC, DSO, MC, Lord of All the Cars of the Highway and Trucks of the Road, and Conqueror of the Automotive Market in General and America in Particular
• Lord Humungus

But things are still going well for Empire Man and Menards Guy

2009-07-09T21:28:00.000-07:00

If you haven't spent substantial time in the Midwest or watched a lot of WGN, then the name Bob Rohrman probably doesn't mean much to you. But if you are a member of one of those demographics, you read the name "Bob Rohrman" and thought, "Hey, Bob ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHRman of used car commercial fame!"

Well, Bob of used car commercial fame became suspicious that his wife was seeing another guy, and he's resorted to the archaic remedy of suing the other man for alienation of affection. This is the sort of suit you might have won before 1950 or so, but I would be shocked if he got his money's worth for this lawsuit.

I think Bob knows this. Many divorcing people think that a divorce order is supposed to be a judicial order that proclaims that you are a good person and your ex is a bad person, and they're willing to pay extra to make a futile attempt at getting such an order. Of course, in most occasions, if you're blowing through money in a futile attempt to get vengeance, that may, in fact, make you... a bad person.

Not news per se, but I missed it in '02

2009-07-04T08:33:00.000-07:00

Science has taken another step towards creating birds that don't sing until a reasonable hour and mosquitos that choke on human blood: they've developed goats that produce spider silk.

The method by which they do it has a lot of potential for pornographic parody filmmakers.

Photos: Reno

2009-06-29T18:46:00.000-07:00

I went to Reno with the rollergirls and here are the pictures I took.

A human tragedy

2009-06-25T15:32:00.000-07:00

Now that Michael Jackson is allegedly dead, it's time for every pundit to reflect What Went Wrong. My theory: surrounded by syncophants all his life who continually took advantage of him, he overreacted to criticism and sought to hide beneath an ever-changing face, among the children he thought he could trust. But I'm probably wrong. All I know is that he's one of the few musical artists ever to make truly effective use of the orchestra hit.

Why not watch "Louis, Martin, and Michael," Louis Theroux's documentary on Jackson (which ends up being more about the people who have made Jackson what he was)?

Megachurches reek of awesomeness!

2009-06-21T20:53:00.001-07:00

I'm almost tempted to move to Minnesota just so I can join the Edge Christian Worship Center.

I'm sure the correct answer can be found in "Clash of the Titans"

2009-06-20T00:10:00.000-07:00

Legend has it that Perseus killed Medusa by getting himself a mirrored shield, and instead of looking at Medusa directly during the fight, he looked at her reflection in the shield.

I have no idea how this worked logistically.

If Perseus held the shield in front of him like most warriors held their shields, he probably wouldn't have been able to see much of the reflection (unless the shield was constructed of some metal that was designed to reflect up, a la black patent leather shoes).

Maybe he had a segmented shield, with various panels at various angles causing a series of reflections that would render Medusa visible. Of course, that shield probably wouldn't do him much good in combat.

The only other option I can think of is that Perseus walked backwards towards Medusa while holding the shield up over his head at an angle, like when you're trying to see the back of your head with a hand mirror and a bathroom mirror, and then when he got real close, he closed his eyes, spun around with his sword drawn, and slashed Medusa in half. This plan would fail spectacularly if Medusa was capable of any sort of fighting apart from her curse powers.

I think the "Medusa saw her own reflection and turned herself to stone" variation of the myth was designed to compensate for that narrative shortcoming.

I bet they have nightmares of the bird from the Trans Am hood decal attacking them

2009-06-15T17:19:00.000-07:00

Do you remember visiting Grandma's house and finding her closet full of old boxes and coffee cans? Do you remember how she asked you to remove the wrapping paper on your Christmas presents very carefully so that she could re-use the paper next year?

Do you sometimes wonder what would happen if Grandma applied her Depression-fostered thrift to her car?

She'd probably post at Ecomodder, where the Bizarro "Big Daddy" Roths go to soup down their cars in an overzealous pursuit of gas mileage.

"But isn't that a laudable goal?" you ask. I guess you haven't clicked on the link yet, have you? Check their "65+ Vehicle modifications for better fuel economy," where you can learn how to drive happily without power steering, rearview mirrors, windshield wipers, or alternators.

Or perhaps you could benefit from one of their "100+ hypermiling / ecodriving tips to increase gas mileage." Here's one I'll be sure to try:

25) Pick up cargo "high", deliver "low"

If possible, shop at stores that are higher in elevation than your home. That way the extra weight you pick up (shopping items) is on board for the descending return leg where it's less of a penalty than it would be on an ascending return leg.

Maybe if crunchy-haired freegan chicks are your thing, then it's all worthwhile, but I think most guys would prefer the redheaded hot rod honey in fishnet stockings. (Me? I drive a Buick. I attract women over 35 like nobody's business.)

You never listen!

2009-06-06T10:56:00.000-07:00

On the other hand, maybe fun isn't what you're looking for on your computer. Maybe awkwardness is more your thing. In that case, I've got stuff for you, too.

For one, check out Facade, which takes ELIZA technology in the opposite direction. In ELIZA, a computerized psychologist tried to help you. In Facade, you're a guest at Trip and Grace's place during a very uncomfortable marital spat. If you enjoyed watching Jan and Michael's dinner party on "The Office," this is going to be right up your alley. (Or if you're a bastard who likes to throw gasoline on the fire.)

For two, visit the Australian National University's Moodgym, the interactive cognitive behavioral therapist. I don't know much about CBT, and from what I've seen in the program, there are some elements which I think are wrong (it's supposed to get you to stop using "biased interpretations" of events, but aren't all interpretations biased?) but you can't beat the price, and if even one of you starts to improve your life because of something I linked, my blog will be more important than 94% of all other blogs in the universe.

Game Over? You're damn right Salieri's over

2009-06-02T17:47:00.000-07:00

Due to league restructuring, my roller derby practices have been cut back, so I'm left with more free time and nothing to do during that free time. Thank goodness for free games on the Internet, eh?

For one, the classic Truck Dismount is now available for Mac. This is a fantastic timewaster and I highly recommend it to those of you who need to entertain children ages 5 to 10. Plot summary: stick man, truck, two ramps, wall. Drive truck into wall and hurt stick man.

For two, I've stumbled upon Extreme Warfare Revenge, the world's greatest pro wrestling booking simulator. Time to play out that Goldust/Tajiri feud I've been dreaming of!

America the Beautiful, Breakfast Served All Day

2009-05-28T19:57:00.000-07:00

I would never start up a Perkins restaurant, given that my food-preparation skills are markedly deficient.

However, if I were to start up a Perkins restaurant, I would try very hard to find a location next to a car dealership, just to say "My American flag is bigger than your American flag."

Both businesses would probably throw millions of dollars into patriotic one-upmanship until he had a full-sized replica of Arlington National Cemetary out back and I constructed a Hall of Animatronic Cabinet Secretaries.

You donated that thing? You're braver than I thought

2009-05-27T14:51:00.000-07:00

Hey, thanks to whoever it was who donated the Millennium Falcon to the Family Justice Center playroom.

Thanks on behalf of the kids, of course.

Because they'll be the ones playing with it.

Not me.

Anybody going to Korea any time soon?

2009-05-23T10:59:00.000-07:00

If so, then please pick up one of these for me.

Update: Now re-hosted.

Now I just need to write the rest of the novel

2009-05-22T19:17:00.000-07:00

I think if I ever write a novel, no matter what it is about, there will be a scene where one character beats another up using a copy of "I'm OK, You're OK."

(No, this is not a fact pattern from one of my cases.)

New pictures

2009-05-20T17:48:00.000-07:00

Nampa.

Because my readers are font nerds and Achewood fans

2009-05-13T10:00:00.000-07:00

The creator of Comic Sans defends himself.

Part of his presentation shows the Portuguese national basketball team with Comic Sans jerseys. If I were a Portuguese basketball player, I'd consider defecting.

Stick to a successful formula

2009-05-12T06:15:00.001-07:00

All the "House" fans are going crazy right now speculating how they'll run the show with Dr. House in a mental hospital.

Here's my idea: the team has to break him out of the hospital every week to solve cases, then return him without anyone noticing.

Also, Dr. Cuddy should be mad about this and chase the team around whenever they do this.

Also, the patients should start arranging for care by meeting with Dr. Taub, who is in disguise.

Also, Dr. Foreman should be afraid to fly and they have to drug his milk whenever they fly.

Also, they should start a mobile diagnostic unit out of a van, preferably a black one with a red stripe.

Join the Nintendo Fun Club, Mac!

2009-05-10T08:45:00.001-07:00

Just watch it.

He wouldn't have been as effective without the Billdozer

2009-05-06T17:16:00.000-07:00

Went to Berkeley in the 60s. Did a little too much LDS.

2009-05-02T08:17:00.000-07:00

There's going to be a Rock Band Star Trek promo. I think this will involve "Bitter Dregs" and the space hippie song and "Life Forms" and the fight music and the Doctor's version of "La Donna e Mobile." And if you win the challenge, you can unlock a guitar shaped like That Rock.

I am relieved that Captain Kirk is still from Iowa. He's also an instructor in hand-to-hand combat: does that mean we'll get to see the legendary Starfleet two-fisted hammer blow?

Well, I thought it was profound.

2009-04-27T06:23:00.000-07:00

Normally, a short update like this would go on my Facebook status, but I thought this was a clever enough phrase to appear in a slightly less ephemeral format.

The supreme law of the land isn't the Constitution. It's the law of unintended consequences.

(Don't believe me? Remind me sometime to tell you the story about how the Ottoman Empire caused the American health care system.)

Some ways to leave your lover Paul Simon didn't mention

2009-04-21T06:21:00.000-07:00

Flee from the state, Kate
Leave no forwarding address, Jess
Slip her a dose of arsenic, Nick
Wait for the extinction of the human race, Chase
Spend more time with your model railway, Jay
Replace your entire wardrobe with faded Spider-Man t-shirts, Mert
Come down with catatonia, Sonya
Try to make a difference in Palestine, Caroline
Tell her you aren't going to sacrifice your dignity by getting a job, Bob
Stop taking your Thorazine, Jean
Escape this dying planet in a space ark, Mark
Start hitting on girls on Ventrilo, Joe
Go stalk your ex, Rex
Become morbidly obese, Denise
Post on your Myspace pretending to be a friend whom you instructed to tell the world that you'd secretly been dying of a mysterious disease for months and didn't tell anybody because you didn't want to hurt them and you passed away in your sleep last night at the hospital and "I LUV U" was the last thing you said, Ned

Rooty Tooty Fresh 'n Fruity is out of the question

2009-04-18T08:21:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I had lunch at Denny's, and I finally decided that my desire to have a sourdough scrambled egg and ham sandwich outweighed my lifelong aversion to having to say the words "Moons Over My Hammy." (Don't ask how a guy who can perform a racy drag routine and who gets knocked on his ass weekly by rollergirls who are at least fifty pounds smaller than he is can be too embarrassed to do anything, much less order something at a restaurant.)

The secret was to say it very quickly and kinda sorta drop the "h." Also, I was eating alone. If I'd had a friend there, I probably would've just ordered an omelet.

I don't remember this happening in "1984"

2009-04-15T06:49:00.000-07:00

So Fiji's new military government is trying to prevent the newspapers from talking about politics. Fijian newspapers, driven by their desire to fulfill their public duty to bring them the news that matters, have devoted themselves to presenting apolitical news.

I don't know how the Pulitzers work, but I think the Fiji Daily Post deserves one for its hard-hitting reports on paint drying, men getting on buses, and staff breakfasts.

Jaysus, Mary an' Joseph

2009-04-12T21:17:00.000-07:00

I have never met an actual Irish person. I have been in the same room as one, and I have met many Americans who identify as Irish even though they couldn't tell you what a taoiseach is* or what the best Irish band is**.

I suppose that if I ever get an Irish friend (and before anyone out there objects that I don't drink enough to make any Irish friends - I'm looking at you, Mr. Linnan - you should remember that De Valera rarely drank either), the time will come when I will ask said Irish friend, "What is about your heritage that is such a magnet for goddamned..."

...and here's where the problem comes in. I can't really make a proper description of the kind of sad bastard American who gloms onto Irish mythology without using a word that is also a slur against gays. Frankly, the gays I know tend to have too much taste to get involved in robe-wearing forest-romping pennywhistle-tootling nonsense, so when I say that Irish heritage is a magnet for goddamned fruitiness, I mean that in a totally non-homophobic (and non-Hibernophobic) fashion.

Take, for instance, the world of Winter Rose, who has decided that she's some kind of unholy combination of "Garden State" and "The Black Cauldron." Her home page is a little like that of your average teenager with a "You Laugh Because I'm Different, I Laugh Because You're The Same" bumper sticker, but the more you read of the "Blessed Solstice" and "Immortal Beloveds" and "Current *Pretties* Rose Covets," the more bumper stickers appear on the car you envision her driving. By the time you start reading her embedded Livejournal, her Passat is shrouded in half-illegible fonts proclaiming "Not All Who Wander Are Lost" and "Blessed Be" and maybe even "For the Horde!"

By the time you read "Musings Upon My Faerie Blood And Traits....." you will, if you have not had your spleen removed and all negativity washed away from you, feel your eyes narrowing and the corners of your mouth tightening. Don't believe me? Try this on for size.

So As A Whole, I'm Selkie, BeanSidhe, LeananSidhe, Rusalka, And Gwragedd Annwn/Vila....... Strongly Tied To Sirens, Mermaids, Naiads, And Kitsune........

I Have A Very Deep Connection With Shape~Shifting *Faerie Bride* Maidens.......

Selkies {Seal Maidens} Valkyrie {Swan Maidens} Kitsune {Fox Maidens}
And Also Shapeshifting Deer Maidens

My Patron Goddesses: Blodeuwedd, Cliodna And Fand Are All Faerie~Bride Shapeshifters.......

I Also Have A Powerful Affinity For Vampires And Ghosts {Especially Spectral Maidens/Ladies}

They Seem To Actually Seek Me Out!

And Last, But Never Least, I *KNOW* That I'm Elven.......Something About The Elvish Languages And Culture Totally Captures Me! I Am Obsessed With Tolkien And Convinced That There's More Fact Than Fiction In His Works! I Feel An Extremely Deep Connection To Elven Princesses.......Especially Melian, Lúthien And Arwen.......

If you are like me and use the Internet as an opportunity to become the bully you never got to be in high school, then perhaps you'll be willing to move on to her entry in National Novel Writing Month, entitled "BeanSidhe's Wail." It appears to be some kind of goddamn fanfiction for her goddamn Renfaire choir full of goddamn freaks using "elegant" Irish names like Moira and Rowena and Cerys (they're never Bláthnaid or Gormflaith or Dearbháil) who are also goddamn fairies who were the goddamn inspiration for everything every brilliant artist ever did (I am going to try that sometime and say that one of my ancestors is the real genius behind the "Washington Post March"). Every time she writes something like "Enchantment" or "Shimmering" or "Magick" I feel like a leprechaun is smacking me in my temples with a shillelagh***.

So, Ireland, I bear you no ill will, but you're really going to have to do something about these losers or else you'll soon find me marching the streets on St. Patrick's Day wearing a Rangers kit and a giant medallion of Oliver Cromwell.

*it's the Prime Minister
**it's Thin Lizzy
***spelled correctly on the first try - who's Irish now, you narcissistic loon?

Putting the "God" in "Godawful"

2009-04-09T06:25:00.000-07:00

In his review of "Manos Hands of Fate," Keith Ellison of Teleport City explains the appeal of cult films.

"...cult films are the place you can go and be taken by surprise, to see something completely outside of the expected. We watch these films for the thrill of discovery, for the joy of witnessing something that would not be done in any other film, by any more talented and predictable filmmaker. Cult films are the places where true vision and madness find free reign, unfettered by industry and commercial training. In that freedom, yokels like me find great entertainment. Manos appeals to me because it is so wrong, because it is so unlike what any of us expect from a movie. It is the breath of fresh air in a stale environment full of movies in which damaged, quirky people try to reconnect and cold, disillusioned suburbanites struggle for feeling in a sterile environment. In an industry laden with clumsy messages and delusions of importance, the utterly baffling nonsense of Manos has more to say to me than any dreary lesson taught to me by a more competent film."

Why have I just quoted this block of text? Because I have recently encountered a trailer for a film that I believe is so incompetent, so head-scratchingly baffling, that if it wasn't for the shadow world of Christian film (motto: "We don't have to try real hard on this, so long as we're moral") then I don't know how it would ever be made.

Behold! "C Me Dance," from Uplifting Entertainment. It's the story of a ballerina who gets cancer (that's uplifting?) with "Law & Order" titles superimposed over her life, and then AAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA WTF.

Monday Challenge!

2009-04-06T17:31:00.000-07:00

Today I encountered the phrase "Malibu Sprinkles."

Your Monday Challenge is: In what context did I encounter the phrase "Malibu Sprinkles?"

(also, if you didn't get the memo, Treasure Valley Rollergirls, streaming LIVE from the Qwest Arena in DOWN-TOWN Boise tomorrow night at 7pm MDT. Link's here.)

Ben Silverman, watch your back

2009-04-03T07:07:00.000-07:00

New brilliant idea for a TV show:

Reality TV competition genre, a la "The Apprentice" and "Hell's Kitchen."

The prize: a job at an art studio (or a scholarship to a prestigious art school)

The competitors: popular DeviantArtists.

I know I've picked on DeviantArt recently, but that was before I discovered this hilarious incident in which one of DeviantArt's most popular artists ventured into a forum for professional artists and flipped out at any sign of criticism.

Except it was in the rain

2009-03-31T15:45:00.000-07:00

This right here is a pretty good depiction of how I suspect I looked while walking home today after learning that I finally got a job.

Now I can start thinking about things I need to spend money on, like furniture and CLE credits and new wheels for my skates and a new computer and USARS and a real mattress and a new vacuum...

This is my "A" material

2009-03-30T16:51:00.000-07:00

I think that if you have a spaceship and you're flying around and somebody shows up and holds you up at laserpoint and steals your spaceship, it should be called a "starjacking."

Because it rhymes with "carjacking."

…I'll show myself out.

Musical hypothesis

2009-03-24T17:05:00.000-07:00

The awesomeness of a band that shares its name with a geographical location varies inversely with the population of said region.

Data:

1. Boston, pop. 574,283
2. Kansas, pop. 2,688,418
3. Chicago, pop. 2,836,658
4. Alabama, pop. 4,447,100
5. Europe, pop. 731,000,000
6. Asia, pop. 4,050,404,000