You say Yakuza, I say Jacuzzi
Every day on my way to work I stop at this particular interestion (see previous blog). And this morning I happened to notice something strange. Not like a elderly gentleman in a blue leotard trying to bite his own cheek, but strange none the less. There is an office that was once a house, probably 30 years ago before the shambling mound of commercialism came along and overran the area. It is a long ranch style home, with the entrance in the middle. That is not the strange part. The strange part is that on the far right
window, well away from the entrance, is a small black sign with 5 symbols on it that I can only assume is one of many Asian languages. And NO English translation, which is odd because well, we do kinda live in an English speaking country. Now it is the South, so English speaking is debatable, y'all.
I don't truly suspect anything nefarious, because not only do we live in and English speaking country, but we also live in reality. So why do I feel this overwhelming urge to copy those symbols and google the hell out of them?
Maybe because it actually is kind of suspicious. Why show the sign way out of the way? And why not provide an English translation? What the fuck could it say that only people who speak that language need to know?? If I google it am I going to find that it's an insult? Like "Hey Americans, suck my balls!".
Or is it a joke? Like "If you can read this you don't need a babelfish.".
The only clue I have is that the office is a Chiropractor. Which is different than an Osteopath because of the spelling. So I wonder if it's indicating that you can get some sort of Korean massage, or Chinese pedicure, or Mongolian beef.
All I know is that it's in a language that only a fraction of a fraction of the population knows...so it can't be bringing in a lot of customers. And I HAVE to know what it says. I suppose I could just call the place and ask... but that just seems WAAY too easy.
Shine Thy Scarlet Splendor Upon Me My Children
A realization came to me the other day on the way home from work. Now before I continue you have to understand my drive. I live about 10 miles from work, and it takes anywhere from 25 minutes to an hour to get home. There are 17 lights between home and work. I know this because one of the things I do to keep my mind occupied is see what the ratio of red lights to green lights I get. Usually its somewhere in the realm of 10:7. So I hit a lot of red lights. Other people have made mention of this if I'm driving.
But lately I've taken to not counting some of the green lights. You know the kind that are in front of a fire station, or school. The kind that only turn red at very specific times. I didn't think they should count since its not a normal traffic event that would trigger them to change. I named them Eternals, since they are perpetually one color. I've actually come up with mental names for a bunch of different kinds of red lights. The kind that wait until you've just stopped to turn green again (Little Bitch). The kind that wait until the last possible second to turn red so you either have to stop, or hit the intersection at a relativistic speeds (Cock Tease). The kind that just stay red while you approach from miles away (Stoic). That's when it hit me.
I AM THIS GUY!!
So, I have a super power. Everyone does really. Some little unique quirk that sets them apart from people. Some people are remarkably charming, some people always win free cokes. One of my friends will come up with a random, but contextually appropriate movie quote, and that movie will come on TV within 24 hours. But my super power is to hit red lights. Not a very prominent super power. Definitely not Super Friends material. I won't be in the League of doodly with that power, though I might get a gig on The Tick.
As a power, it ranks up there with The Ability To Communicate With Corn, or The Ability to Accurately Apply Anti-fungal Cream. But hey, it's mine.
SPOOOOOOON!!!!!
SCOTUS looks like SCROTUM
It's been an interesting year. A new pope got elected, which was fascinating to watch. The last time that happened I was only months old, so it was a whole new experience. Now we have to replace one of our Supreme Court justices. (bonus points if you can actually name all 9 (including the one that left) justices with out looking it up) I have only vague recollections of the last time that happened, since I was about 14 and had far more important things on my mind.
I read recently where they should have a vote on this new justice nominee sometime in September. And I honestly don't know if I can endure 7+ weeks of the whole process. Politics have been particularly draining the last couple years. And I want to keep up with things and be civic minded and all. Last thing I want is to wake up one day and read about some change: "Huh, so we're a klerostocracy now. When the heck did that happen?" But paying attention to the goings on of politics definitely does not give me that warm fuzzy feeling deep inside.
I am hesitantly hopeful that the next 7 weeks won't be hell, and I'm a little surprised it's so calm. But I'm sure before long it is going to degenerate into the usual crap. One side saying "Bush nominated him, ergo pure evil", and the other side saying "He won't do enough to overturn Roe v. Wade".
I'm trying really hard to care, but it's hard to with the past couple decisions that they've back handed the country with. Growing plants in your basement to help ease the symptoms of your eye disease constitutes interstate commerce and is therefore regulatable by Congress. Or they could just come take your house, basement and all, and build a Dunkin Donuts since the extra taxes means that its a "public usage" of the space.
Fuckers.
Just add hobbits
When I was in France I was, and still am, fascinated by one appetizer. I can't even remember what it was called but it was essentially slices of a cantelope-like melon, with slices of deli ham wrapped around them. I found this bizarre to say the least. What most concerned me was that somewhere in the dim annals of history someone was sitting around and saying "This melon is wonderful, just ripe enough, and juicy. It's like an orgasm for your taste buds. But you know what it really needs? Ham. Maybe bacon, but some sort of cooked pig meat." Or since it was in France,
"ce melon est merveilleux, assez mûr, et juteux. Il est comme un orgasme pour vos bourgeons de goût. Mais vous savez de ce qu'il a besoin vraiment ? Jambon. Peut-être lard, mais une certaine sorte de viande cuite de porc."It's almost like a game. Taking two completely unrelated topics, ideas, things, and juxtaposing them together to create some Frankensteinesque beast. So here's a fascinating little experiment I found involving hobbits (no, not delicately sliced hobbit wrapped around melon. But just as funny)
Once More With Hobbits!
Short cuts make funny delays
They've done studies that show that when it comes to words, your brain is already processing it's "best guess" before you've actually finished decoding a word. You can see that in action when you're skimming a page or sign or something. You see something and think "surely that can't be what it said." So you go back and take a closer look. And yeah, it usually turns out you've transposed a character, or partially combined a couple words. Anyway, here are a couple of my more entertaining misfire's:
this is about a year old, but slapped on the front page of cnn.com was:
what I saw: "
Millions flee France!"
what it said: "
Millions flee Frances!"
This was back during hurricane season last year. But I honestly had an omg-wtf-is-going-on?? sort of moment. I found myself disappointed when I realized it was just the hurricane, and not some huge meteor or alien invasion.
this one was this morning on the way to work and the inspiration to the blog:
what I saw: "
WE INSTALL FECES"
what it said: "
WE INSTALL FENCES"
Nothing super interesting about that one. Just gross.
lastly, this one was while driving around somewhere:
what I saw: "
Libertarian Church of the Incantation"
what it said: "
Lutheran Church of the Incarnation"
Which I just find funny. A church of spell-casters that believes in free will and personal liberty.
Dreamscape
I've always had crazy nightmares, ever since I can remember. In fact, I don't remember any "normal" dreams good or bad. As a small child I never seemed to have dreams about playing on the playground, no I had dreams about being tortured by various lengths of strings that emitted different tones. I had continual nightmares about vampires when I was in a bad place personally around 18/19 years old. This past nightmare was one for the books (it's a little abbreviated since it has been most of a day since I woke up):
I parked the car, and walked up to the office door. It was a sunny day, and everything seemed kind of whitewashed. The door chimed as I opened it. Immediately I was sitting in the dentists office. He began to explain the upcoming surgery that I was completely unaware of only moments ago.
"First we're going to take a hammer and chisel and break your tooth along these two fissures," the dentist began. He conjured a 3d image of a tooth getting hit by a hammer.
"Now, we can either knock you out completely, or you can go without anesthetic. That is totally up to you."
I started to panic, sitting down in the dentist chair that reclines. I did some meditation and breathing techniques to calm down. Now in my dream I was panicking because general anesthesia scares me more than death. Don't ask, it's retarded and it's a phobia. After some time, I could feel myself drifting off to sleep in that chair. Suddenly I know I'm dreaming. This thought completely calms me since I can wake up and leave this behind.
Before I can wake the dentist grabs me by the collar leans close and says, "Oh no, you're not going anywhere." And just like that I'm back in the dream, and I can't wake up. The dentist drags me into another room, each time I try to wake up I can feel him grab me in some bizarre non-physical way and slam me back into the dream. He forces me to sit down in a chair at a table.
A nurse struts over to me and uses restraints that are suddenly part of the chair to keep me seated with my right arm out on the table, immoble. She laughs rather maniacally as she walks over to a medical supply station. She comes back with a very large syringe filled with a murky liquid. The nurse grins as she stabs the syringe into my arm.
Almost immediately my arm leaks a strange purple jelly which she smooths into my skin. She nods and hands the dentist a scalpel. He grabs it, sits down and cuts into my arm. It hurts like a son of a bitch. The dentist stands up, "What the hell is this?" He shouts at the nurse. The nurse begins to laugh.
At this point I realize that the syringe didn't have a local anesthetic in it, and God knows what it DID have. I also realize that the dentist is surprised by this, and that I was wanted by several organizations. I had to leave.
Thankfully the restraints dissappeared and I was able to leave quickly. I got into my car that was now a miniaturized Formula-One car. A quick car chase ensued until I crashed in an empty field. I was suddenly confronted by a creature that was half tree half man. It's face was a wooden mask, no nose, just two holes where eyes would be and a hole for the mouth. As soon as the fight began, I woke up.
After I managed to wake up, I could feel that I had an adrenaline rush, and my pulse was going like I'd been running. The thing that is difficult to convey is that I knew that I was dreaming but couldn't wake up, and had to keep playing along with the dream. Anyway, it was freaky, and I'm really hoping for some normality this evening!
Potter Powers Activate!
Form of: a dollar sign! Or I suppose it would be far more appropriate as a pound sign. So like millions of other freaks I bought the new Harry Potter book and had it read before the sun set on the weekend. I would have finished it sooner, but it's Amanda's birthday so we've been celebrating that joyous occasion, and I've been doing homework. Well, actually homework be damned, the book came first.
I read in an article that Rowling is now worth (pinky to side of mouth) one billion dollars! One freaking billion dollars for writing 6 books. Oh sure, that's excluding proceeds from movies, books on tape, en espanol, guest appearances, Every Flavor Beans, etc. But still just for writing 6 books. The rest of that would not have happened if not for the books.
For the mathematically retarded population, that's 167 million dollars per book. Tough to get an accurate estimate on pages, but something close to 3000 pages. So roughly $55,500 per freaking PAGE. It eventually breaks down to something like $250 per word.
I am in the wrong field. That's for damn sure. At that rate this blog is currently worth: $50,000.
From what I can tell, she hit that mark somewhere in year 2004. I'm sure this next round of income will increase dramatically. After millions of fans fall upon The Half Blood Prince like ravenous creatures denied a meal for many days. I know I had to beat some poor kid over the head with my copy to keep him from gnawing at my leg. Thats one advantage of reading these books at 27. You're a lot bigger than the 13 year olds. Not only this book but there's another movie coming out later this year.
Current blog worth: $74,750.
And I know that it's not about the money, it's about the art. Yeah. Bullshit. Bull-fucking-shit. I defy you to sit there and say screw that $167e8 paycheck, I just want the art I create to be a betterment to the community. Or some other kinda crap. Anyway, it does kind of make one want to pull out the old assortment of short stories and writings from the old college years.
Current blog worth: $94,000.
And of course, that's only if you're as successful as this series has been. But what if you're not? What if you're only half as good. Or one tenth. Or one thousandth. That's still more money than I'll make, that's for sure.
Current blog worth: $105,500.
So now I'm back to waiting. Waiting until the final installment comes. Sometime in like 2008 or something horrible like that. I'll have to be content with watching the movies as they come out, and being continually relieved that it wasn't an all American cast. Which is such a terrifying line of thought that I must sign off now, or risk permanent damage.
Total blog worth: $122,250.
Random Thoughts I
1) So, when did 7.5 FEET of water constitute "light flooding"? Seems to me that if you have to be evacuated from your Atlanta-area home by freaking boat, that it would net more than just "light flooding"
2) Robot Chicken is awesome.
3) My final exam this semester got changed to a project. That rocks. Give me a project any day. I hate written tests.
4) My cat, Loki, wakes us up about 15 minutes before our alarm goes off. My question is, how does she know when we have set the alarm for if its a different time every morning? Creepy.
5) Please, for the love of God, stop Americanizing British shows. It just doesn't work. I recently saw a commercial for the American version of The Office. I remember what they did to Coupling. Please please stop.
6) And to continue a theme: Box office revenues are down. They claim piracy. I can sum it up in 4 words: Deuce Bigelow, European Gigolo. Some movies just shouldn't have sequels.
7) Some movies should come with warning labels. For instance, you should never watch Office Space when you are both working with computers and disgruntled at work. It makes you entirely too cavalier about things.
8) I think thats all I think for now.
Mr. Foot, meet Mr. Mouth
A funny thing happened on the way to the hotel today. I'm on a business trip. The kind that really suck. Nothing works. The kind of trip that if a meteor fell on me it would be "well, that sucked. But at least I don't have to work on this fscking project anymore". And I'm trying not to take it out on the random shop clerks and waiters that I run into that evening.
So I kinda put myself on auto pilot so I can stew. Where outwardly I'm being all pleasant but secretly thinking dark thoughts. I'm only vaguely aware of things that are going on around me. I decide that a good book might get my mind off of things so I stop in the local B&N.
I grab a book, and head up to the counter. The girl behind the cash register asks me how my day is going. Now normally you just say "fine" or "great" regardless of if you've just won $10 million, or if you've had a stray dog poop on your shoe and then eat your foot. But fuck that, I'd had a miserable fucking day, so I wasn't going to lie. I said "Ungh, long day at work I guess". She looks at me and says "yeah, well, at least yours is over with."
Oops, now I've accidentally pissed her off. Keep in mind I'm sort of on auto pilot, not really thinking about what I'm doing, and I'm trying to be pleasant. I over compensate. She hands me the bag and my receipt. And I can feel myself talking, while the rest of me catches up, like a slow-motion scene where there's someone diving, hand outreached, yelling "Noooooooooo". Like the left side of my brain finally realizes what the right side is doing and tries to stop it. Too late. I'm actually saying the words. I say, "Well, I hope you get off sometime tonight." Eaagh! I really just said that didn't I. I pause, horrified at the unintended double entendre. She looks at me funny. I leave. Beating a hasty retreat to a place where I won't have to talk to people, since I clearly should not be allowed in public.
epiphany
Have you every really wondered how the brain works? You've got this subconscious that is frightfully smart, but really flighty. Like some strange genius hermit that lives deep in the woods and will periodically show up and say something profound, and highly out of context.
But how does your subconscious decide what it's going to mull over? I mean if you are up all night doing homework or trying to work out some problem, chances are if you go do bed you wake up in the morning with an "oh duh" moment. Problem solved. So what happens when you aren't really mulling anything over, and your subconscious is left to just idle?
Mine apparently just wastes time. Follow me, if you will, if you dare...
So I was walking back to my office from the lab. I was having a some trouble that day, and so here is approximately what I was thinking: "...how the hell can only part of that file be in the wrong byte order? Oh, of course, in the movie Underworld, they called them Lycans because its short for lycanthrope." It struck me like a hammer blow. I think I may have honestly said "huh?". I was distracted enough I almost ran into the girl who sits in the cubicle across from my office as she walked down the hall. I also imagine that you're as confused as I was. I mean, I liked the movie, but its been quite some time since I'd seen it, so wtf was my brain thinking? (And I'd never seen it written down, just spoken. It sounds like "liken". I figured okay, whatever, they're just trying to be unique and using their own words.) Apparently it bothered my subconscious enough to the point where it was going to figure it out, dammit, no matter what.
The gist is, what is that master process? WHAT is in your brain that decides "and now for something completely different"? I think I'm scared of mine.
Irregardless, I'm fixin to warsh that mute point
I have to take a break from my midterms to point out something: moot points. They're freaking moot points. Not
mute points. A mute point is a completely weird idea, something like a sharp end made from people who can't talk, or a concept that has no volume. The latest book I read actually used the phrase, and it reminded me of the fact that so many people I know refer to them as mute points. Not that I'm free from verbal gaffs, no no, far from it.
It took me quite a while to remove some of the Kansas-hick pronunciations I grew up with. Namely "warsh". I also couldn't say "root" or "roof" properly, now I can. Although, my sweetie tells me I can't say "measure" correctly, but every time I say it, it sounds exactly like the way she says it, but not to anyone but me. And of course, 9 years in Atlanta, I have picked up the dreaded "fixin" and "y'all".
One verbal habit I've had to recently stop is using the word irregardless. Basically because irregardless is not a word. And I take more than enough crap from co-workers to give them this bit of ammunition.
Then again, I still can't spell.
