-Hi Sam, how are you?
-I'm good.
-Just good?
-What's wrong with "good?"
-Nothing, I guess. But that's all? You're just "good," you're not "great?" Is something wrong?
-So you're saying that if I'm not "great," then something is wrong with me?
-Well, no, but I just thought . . .
-It used to be "fine."
-What?
-"Fine." That's what I would say when people would ask me how I was. But I had to stop using that word, because every time I said it someone would respond "Just fine?!!" It was like "fine" suddenly meant "I got mauled by a bear today." That's how people reacted.
-Well yeah, fine isn't very good.
-Actually it is. In fact that's exactly what it means. As in "fine wine" or "the finest things in life","refined," it does mean "very good," that's the definition. But somehow that wasn't enough, and I had to step up my response to "Okay."
-Just "Ok?"
-Yeah, that's exactly what everyone said, "JUST OK???" I should have known better. I mean if "fine" meant "I got mauled by a bear today" then "Ok" must mean that the bear was riding a shark. And that's why I started saying "good." But now even that's not enough.
-Why does this bother you? Aren't you glad that people are concerned about you?
-But they're not. Saying "how are you?" doesn't count as genuine interest. It's a greeting. It's a way to acknowledge someone, that's all.
-That may be how some people use it, but when I say it I'm really interested. I seriously want to know how you are.
-Well, then, you are a crazy person. You are ignoring the way the rest of humanity uses that phrase and expecting everyone to divine your own interpretation. You are going around asking your acquaintances a deeply personal question, the answer to which is as nebulous as the depth of the human soul, a complex state woven of mixed emotions, spiritual conflict, and physical comfort. You are expecting to have real, intimate connections with nearly everyone you meet and you're willing to sit and wait while each person details all the aspects of his life for you.
-Yes. That's right. That's what I'm doing.
-And you don't think that's weird?
-No.
-Even though some people are naturally quiet and reserved, and aren't be comfortable with your level of interest.
-I think those people would be better off if they opened up a little.
-Well then let me ask you a question, on behalf of all of us: What do you want? What's the thing we can say to indicate that we're mostly the way we always are, generally happy and dealing with life's little troubles as they come, experiencing our ups and downs but still enjoying the ride. Content to not ever be completely content, and a little glad that the sun always rises, that all things pass, and that the universe does not depend on us being in the best mood ever?
-There isn't anything you can say. I won't accept some vague response. I want to know how you are, I want a real answer.
-Ok, then.
I am wonderful. I am amazing. The very experience of being Sam, in this moment, is more enriching than you could possibly imagine and to try and conceive of it would shatter your grip on reality. What I once called my hopes and dreams are now fulfilled, yet completely insignificant when compared to the magnitude of each day of my life. I am so healthy that I'm developing superpowers. I'm so at peace that I can see the foundations of space and time swirling around me. My emotions are passionate like fire, but I control them the way a fencer wields a blade. I am the immovable object AND the irresistible force, reconciled in a single entity. I am joy incarnate. I AM faster than a speeding bullet. I AM more powerful than a locomotive. Here I am, rock you like a hurricane.
- . . .
- . . .
-Whatever, Sam.
-Whatever?
-Yes, whatever. Live in your quiet, antisocial world. Be a grumpy old grouch who never talks to anyone. Whatever. It's fine with me.*
- . . . "Just fine?" :)
-Oh, shut up.
*Epilogue
-And one more thing, Sam.
-What?
-Carebear stare . . .
-Huh?
*WOOSH*
Friday, November 9, 2007
Friday, November 2, 2007
Have you ever wasted time watching old commercials on YouTube?
In the early 90's, AT&T released a famous series of "You Will" TV ads which described how emerging technologies, especially the internet, would provide us with all kinds of everyday conveniences.
Some of these predictions, like RFID toll badges and GPS navigation systems, are eerily spot-on with modern day, and others are pretty close to reality, like distance learning with video-over-IP.
So keep in mind that I gave AT&T some credit before I openly mocked their few big misses.
1. Have you ever borrowed a book, from thousands of miles away?
Ooooooo, swing and a miss. I mean we have all kinds of books on the internet, but the interface never looks like an actual book. That would be like inventing the first car, and instead of a steering wheel you give it horse reins.
2. Have you ever unlocked your door with the sound of your voice?
Well, no. See that would require me to buy an expensive electronic system, and I can just buy a standard key lock for minimal fee. Also I'd be locked out anytime the power goes off.
3. Have you ever tucked your baby in from a phone booth?
What is this "phone booth" you speak of? I could use my cell phone in a restaurant booth, does that count?
But more importantly, what kind of world are you imagining, AT&T, where parents aren't regularly at home to take care of their infant children?
4. Have you ever watched the movie you wanted to, the minute you wanted to?*
And there it is again! A bunch of kids, completely unsupervised, watching whatever movie they want to! Man, AT&T has got a thing about absent parents. I think maybe the company has some personal issues it needs to work out before going forward with these internet plans.
If only we could go back, make a new commercial, and ask the early 90's some questions they really weren't ready for:
-Have you ever lost an entire afternoon, just by looking at your friend's photos?
-Have you ever looked up someone's phone number, and immediately heard an obnoxious song playing?
-Have you ever had a crappy, unknown band ask to be your friend?
You will, and the company that will bring it to you . . .
is MySpace.com.
*Well yeah, it's called Bittorrent.
Some of these predictions, like RFID toll badges and GPS navigation systems, are eerily spot-on with modern day, and others are pretty close to reality, like distance learning with video-over-IP.
So keep in mind that I gave AT&T some credit before I openly mocked their few big misses.
1. Have you ever borrowed a book, from thousands of miles away?
Ooooooo, swing and a miss. I mean we have all kinds of books on the internet, but the interface never looks like an actual book. That would be like inventing the first car, and instead of a steering wheel you give it horse reins.
2. Have you ever unlocked your door with the sound of your voice?
Well, no. See that would require me to buy an expensive electronic system, and I can just buy a standard key lock for minimal fee. Also I'd be locked out anytime the power goes off.
3. Have you ever tucked your baby in from a phone booth?
What is this "phone booth" you speak of? I could use my cell phone in a restaurant booth, does that count?
But more importantly, what kind of world are you imagining, AT&T, where parents aren't regularly at home to take care of their infant children?
4. Have you ever watched the movie you wanted to, the minute you wanted to?*
And there it is again! A bunch of kids, completely unsupervised, watching whatever movie they want to! Man, AT&T has got a thing about absent parents. I think maybe the company has some personal issues it needs to work out before going forward with these internet plans.
If only we could go back, make a new commercial, and ask the early 90's some questions they really weren't ready for:
-Have you ever lost an entire afternoon, just by looking at your friend's photos?
-Have you ever looked up someone's phone number, and immediately heard an obnoxious song playing?
-Have you ever had a crappy, unknown band ask to be your friend?
You will, and the company that will bring it to you . . .
is MySpace.com.
*Well yeah, it's called Bittorrent.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Up, Up, Down, Down
Movies on DVD almost always have "Easter Eggs," hidden content that you can only get to by doing something obscure, like clicking on an object that doesn't appear to be a button.
Similarly, almost every video game has some sort of cheat code, unlocked by fulfilling some incredibly esoteric requirement, like hitting any button thirteen times while rotating the d-pad clockwise.*
And then there are the multitude of websites, like J.K. Rowling's, that contain all sorts of secret content.
Based on these things, it's clear that we cannot craft an interactive experience without adding some special "thing." The temptation is simply too great.
So when God was creating Reality, the most robust interactive experience of all, doesn't it seem like he MUST have done stuff like that?
I imagine that someday we'll develop tools for looking deep into the Earth, and somewhere a few thousand miles in we'll find a big smiley face across the whole eastern hemisphere. It'll be a major controversy, with scientists rushing to explain how it's merely a natural formation that happens to look kinda like a face. Then the next day they'll check out the western hemisphere and find :oP***.
And there's no telling what he did with outer space. I feel bad for the future astronaut who will someday have to submit an official report that says: "Planet XJ-299 is mostly gaseous with a loosely compacted core of dust. Planet XJ-300 has no atmosphere but could be terraformed into a habitable world. Planet XJ-301, well I don't know quite how to say this . . . it seems to be made entirely out of candy cane. Red stripes and everything."
And if God HAS put Easter Eggs into reality, doesn't that do a lot to explain the platypus? He knew we'd try to document all the animal species we found, so he created one just to mess with us. "Ok, ok, the giraffe, that's pretty funny, Gabriel, but check this one out. It's got fur, but it also has a duck's bill, plus an electroreception sense and ten sex chromosomes. Yeah, TEN. Just for no reason. This is going to be hilarious."
For all we know, some of these could be psychological. Maybe the term "Easter egg" is, itself, an Easter egg. Maybe God influenced us to name "hidden stuff in DVD's and games" after a relic of HIS big holiday.
Or maybe there are little codes in daily life that we don't know about. Obscure, esoteric things that, if you do them just right, unlock God's own "Behind the Scenes" documentary, or 30 extra lives!
*Props if you know the reference.
Similarly, almost every video game has some sort of cheat code, unlocked by fulfilling some incredibly esoteric requirement, like hitting any button thirteen times while rotating the d-pad clockwise.*
And then there are the multitude of websites, like J.K. Rowling's, that contain all sorts of secret content.
Based on these things, it's clear that we cannot craft an interactive experience without adding some special "thing." The temptation is simply too great.
So when God was creating Reality, the most robust interactive experience of all, doesn't it seem like he MUST have done stuff like that?
I imagine that someday we'll develop tools for looking deep into the Earth, and somewhere a few thousand miles in we'll find a big smiley face across the whole eastern hemisphere. It'll be a major controversy, with scientists rushing to explain how it's merely a natural formation that happens to look kinda like a face. Then the next day they'll check out the western hemisphere and find :oP***.
And there's no telling what he did with outer space. I feel bad for the future astronaut who will someday have to submit an official report that says: "Planet XJ-299 is mostly gaseous with a loosely compacted core of dust. Planet XJ-300 has no atmosphere but could be terraformed into a habitable world. Planet XJ-301, well I don't know quite how to say this . . . it seems to be made entirely out of candy cane. Red stripes and everything."
And if God HAS put Easter Eggs into reality, doesn't that do a lot to explain the platypus? He knew we'd try to document all the animal species we found, so he created one just to mess with us. "Ok, ok, the giraffe, that's pretty funny, Gabriel, but check this one out. It's got fur, but it also has a duck's bill, plus an electroreception sense and ten sex chromosomes. Yeah, TEN. Just for no reason. This is going to be hilarious."
For all we know, some of these could be psychological. Maybe the term "Easter egg" is, itself, an Easter egg. Maybe God influenced us to name "hidden stuff in DVD's and games" after a relic of HIS big holiday.
Or maybe there are little codes in daily life that we don't know about. Obscure, esoteric things that, if you do them just right, unlock God's own "Behind the Scenes" documentary, or 30 extra lives!
*Props if you know the reference.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Though we didn't light it
I refuse to believe that the Dr. Pepper company created "Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper" on purpose.
What really happened is this: a guy in their lab made some stuff, and it kinda tasted like Dr. Pepper, but not really, and once they determined that the lab rats who drank it were just sleeping, they sent their new product off to marketing. And those poor people, they had to sit around drinking can after can of mildly fruity soda-like substance and trying to figure out what it tasted like.
But the soda industry has a history of these desperate cries for attention: Coca-cola with Lime, Coca-cola with Lemon*, Mountain Dew-Pitch Black, Crystal Pepsi, Pepsi Blue, Pepsi Holiday Spice, and if you were in Japan this summer, Pepsi Ice Cucumber, these are the dark, crayon scrawled drawings of companies that really need someone to care about them.
I think it goes back to the cola wars in the 1980's. For this brief period, people took their soda drinking seriously. Well, I guess they did. I remember all those "only old people drink Coke' ads, but I was too young to judge if there was a major societal rift at work. Also a few years of my childhood memory take place on the Lego space monorail I got one Christmas, so maybe something happened then and I don't remember. But Billy Joel's famous rant "We Didn't Start the Fire", where he references things like AIDS, suicide, and crack, ends with the line "Rock and Roller cola wars, I can't take it anymore," and I guess if that's the thing that finally pushed him over the edge, maybe it was a pretty big deal after all.
So when the cola war passed, all these companies were left with deflated egos. They'd constructed this Orwellian pseudo-war to keep people interested, then one day everyone woke up and said "Wait, many industries comfortably operate with two ore more major competitors, and in fact that arrangement is better for the consumer than having one clear winner," and it was all gone. (And in which book did George Orwell use the idea of a pseudo-war to distract the masses? "1984"! Just before the cola wars began! That's some Twilight Zone action right there.)
So now the soda companies shamble on, working in their labs each day to come up with something that will spark the public interest again. I feel sorry for them, but every time my sanity, my loyalties, and my intelligence are called into question because of the operating system, the internet chat client, or the video game console I choose, I know they might have their war back someday.
*Why wasn't there a Coke with Lymon? I mean it's their word, they made it up. Seems like kind of an oversight, doesn't it?
What really happened is this: a guy in their lab made some stuff, and it kinda tasted like Dr. Pepper, but not really, and once they determined that the lab rats who drank it were just sleeping, they sent their new product off to marketing. And those poor people, they had to sit around drinking can after can of mildly fruity soda-like substance and trying to figure out what it tasted like.
But the soda industry has a history of these desperate cries for attention: Coca-cola with Lime, Coca-cola with Lemon*, Mountain Dew-Pitch Black, Crystal Pepsi, Pepsi Blue, Pepsi Holiday Spice, and if you were in Japan this summer, Pepsi Ice Cucumber, these are the dark, crayon scrawled drawings of companies that really need someone to care about them.
I think it goes back to the cola wars in the 1980's. For this brief period, people took their soda drinking seriously. Well, I guess they did. I remember all those "only old people drink Coke' ads, but I was too young to judge if there was a major societal rift at work. Also a few years of my childhood memory take place on the Lego space monorail I got one Christmas, so maybe something happened then and I don't remember. But Billy Joel's famous rant "We Didn't Start the Fire", where he references things like AIDS, suicide, and crack, ends with the line "Rock and Roller cola wars, I can't take it anymore," and I guess if that's the thing that finally pushed him over the edge, maybe it was a pretty big deal after all.
So when the cola war passed, all these companies were left with deflated egos. They'd constructed this Orwellian pseudo-war to keep people interested, then one day everyone woke up and said "Wait, many industries comfortably operate with two ore more major competitors, and in fact that arrangement is better for the consumer than having one clear winner," and it was all gone. (And in which book did George Orwell use the idea of a pseudo-war to distract the masses? "1984"! Just before the cola wars began! That's some Twilight Zone action right there.)
So now the soda companies shamble on, working in their labs each day to come up with something that will spark the public interest again. I feel sorry for them, but every time my sanity, my loyalties, and my intelligence are called into question because of the operating system, the internet chat client, or the video game console I choose, I know they might have their war back someday.
*Why wasn't there a Coke with Lymon? I mean it's their word, they made it up. Seems like kind of an oversight, doesn't it?
Friday, October 12, 2007
If it folds up to fit under your bed, it's a revolution.
Do you know what scientists have discovered about the human body?
Nothing.
They have no idea, and it's time we accepted that. I mean sure, they've got some general things figured out:
You should probably eat something other than candy bars.
You should get up and go outside once in a while.
That water stuff? It seems kinda important.
And if you have time, maybe sleep once in a while.
But beyond those things I have trouble believing that the vast spectrum of human diversity can be summed up by a "recent medical study." How many people were in the study? One-hundred? That's 1/60,000,000th of the humanity, not what you'd call a good sample.
I used to enjoy debating vocal pro-Earth advocates (read: "Playing devil's-advocate to people I found obnoxious.") because I got to lay out this argument:
"I'm not saying that global warming isn't real, just that the people who tell us about it also depend on it for their grant money. If it weren't for global warming, who would care about climatology? No one. So then how can we trust a climatologist's opinion on the subject? It's like if a man who owned a chocolate factory told you that eating chocolate made you live longer, would you believe him? No."
But I had to stop using that bit when medical studies found that dark chocolate* contains antioxidants, which prevent cancer and thus MAKE YOU LIVE LONGER. That's right, even my candy bar rule is coming into question now.
But medical studies aren't nearly as good as the home fitness industry. I'm convinced that all those late-night workout machine commercials are created by executives trying to see who can make people do the stupidest thing:
"I'll bet I can sell a machine with a bow on it, like from a bow and arrow. I'll say it has 'Thrust-bar resistance' or something."
"Oh that's nothing, I bet I can make people pretend to ski in their living rooms."
"Ok, fine. You know push-ups? Did you know you've been doing them wrong all this time? No? Well that's because I just decided it."
Meanwhile, in homes across the country . . .
"Of course, skiing! That's it! All this time I've been so unhealthy, and it was so simple! Now I can be fit and never leave my house!"
That's right, even my "go outside" rule is coming into question now.
So here it is, the entirety of what we know about the human body: Drink water. Sleep.
That's it. Good luck folks.
*You notice they didn't try to say this about chocolate in general, because no one would buy that. But DARK chocolate? Well that's different! It's magic!
Nothing.
They have no idea, and it's time we accepted that. I mean sure, they've got some general things figured out:
You should probably eat something other than candy bars.
You should get up and go outside once in a while.
That water stuff? It seems kinda important.
And if you have time, maybe sleep once in a while.
But beyond those things I have trouble believing that the vast spectrum of human diversity can be summed up by a "recent medical study." How many people were in the study? One-hundred? That's 1/60,000,000th of the humanity, not what you'd call a good sample.
I used to enjoy debating vocal pro-Earth advocates (read: "Playing devil's-advocate to people I found obnoxious.") because I got to lay out this argument:
"I'm not saying that global warming isn't real, just that the people who tell us about it also depend on it for their grant money. If it weren't for global warming, who would care about climatology? No one. So then how can we trust a climatologist's opinion on the subject? It's like if a man who owned a chocolate factory told you that eating chocolate made you live longer, would you believe him? No."
But I had to stop using that bit when medical studies found that dark chocolate* contains antioxidants, which prevent cancer and thus MAKE YOU LIVE LONGER. That's right, even my candy bar rule is coming into question now.
But medical studies aren't nearly as good as the home fitness industry. I'm convinced that all those late-night workout machine commercials are created by executives trying to see who can make people do the stupidest thing:
"I'll bet I can sell a machine with a bow on it, like from a bow and arrow. I'll say it has 'Thrust-bar resistance' or something."
"Oh that's nothing, I bet I can make people pretend to ski in their living rooms."
"Ok, fine. You know push-ups? Did you know you've been doing them wrong all this time? No? Well that's because I just decided it."
Meanwhile, in homes across the country . . .
"Of course, skiing! That's it! All this time I've been so unhealthy, and it was so simple! Now I can be fit and never leave my house!"
That's right, even my "go outside" rule is coming into question now.
So here it is, the entirety of what we know about the human body: Drink water. Sleep.
That's it. Good luck folks.
*You notice they didn't try to say this about chocolate in general, because no one would buy that. But DARK chocolate? Well that's different! It's magic!
Friday, October 5, 2007
I wrote this wearing a tinfoil sombrero*
Island of Doomslaying, Pacific Ocean (AP) - The attack on
Dr. Dementorz' island fortress ended today after a mere thirteen-minute assault. Allied forces brought down the home of what some are calling the world's first "supervillian" and described the experience as "pretty much a cake-walk."
"There was really no resistance to speak of," said one of the ground soldiers, "Our planes canvassed the island with ordinance and the grunts swept up the pieces, it was easy. There were a few anti-aircraft guns, but those weren't a problem. It actually takes a long time to train someone to fire one of those things even in the best conditions, and Dr. Dementorz . . . you know what? I'm not calling him that anymore, guy's name was Larry, it was in the debriefing. Larry thought he could hire thugs off the street to operate serious military equipment. Based on what I saw, those guys had almost no idea what they were doing."
The name "Dr. Dementorz" was revealed to be the pseudonym of Larry Pinkington after thousands of online tipsters Googled his true identity and sent their findings to government officials. Pinkington gave himself the alias during a video broadcast earlier today in which he took responsibility for this morning's attack on the United Nations. Sources say Pinkington was planning to force-broadcast the tape using a hacked satellite but discovered that he didn't need to because most news organizations called him and asked for it. "Chaos is upon us!," Pinkington screamed in the video,"With all your leaders gone in one fell swoop, the world will descend into anarchy and confusion, forcing everyone to turn to me as their new leader!"
Pinkington's statements fell flat, however, as by the time his footage was released, the United Nations was reconvening with new delegates. "The whole transition took maybe two hours" said one representative, "I mean every major nation in the world has some sort of contingency plan if their leader gets killed. It's not like countries have one guy who magically holds everything together, and if he's dead it all goes nuts. What kind of sense would that make? There's such a think as bureaucracy. I got an email, they swore me in, and I was on a plane to the emergency meeting a few minutes later."
The military response to Dr. Dementorz' actions was the only item on the emergency meeting agenda, but the decision took so little time that the delegates voted to continue and "get some busywork out of the way". "It was an open-and-shut case" said the newly elected Secretary-General, "we had a full confession, on tape, that included a very convincing argument for why he wasn't insane but instead an evil, evil man who wanted to destroy the world. Our researchers found the coordinates of his island fortress on his Wikipedia page, confirmed it with satellite photos and verified that the island had no civilians to worry about. No moral or ethical dilemma, vote was unanimous."
Pinkerton has not been located, but he is presumed dead after a rocket-propelled escape capsule shot from the top of the fortress and exploded almost immediately. A U.S. military analyst was on-hand to survey the wreckage, "We'll confirm the identity of the body with a DNA test, but we're pretty sure that's him." he said,"It looks like the capsule was designed to reach low orbit, but a malfunction caused one of the fuel tanks to explode. That's why NASA has so many people behind every shuttle launch, you can't handle a delicate, precise operation like this with just one red button."
As nations mourn in the wake of Pinkerton's attack, they can take comfort that his actions have been avenged quickly and with no loss of innocent life. The whole encounter took so little time, however, that many U.S. civilians aren't even aware of it yet. "I wasn't even aware of that yet.", said one civilian at an Atlanta Steak n' Shake restaurant.
*This title has nothing to do with today's post. I started writing something about conspiracy theories, then changed my mind and wrote this instead. But the title was so funny, I decided to keep it.
Dr. Dementorz' island fortress ended today after a mere thirteen-minute assault. Allied forces brought down the home of what some are calling the world's first "supervillian" and described the experience as "pretty much a cake-walk."
"There was really no resistance to speak of," said one of the ground soldiers, "Our planes canvassed the island with ordinance and the grunts swept up the pieces, it was easy. There were a few anti-aircraft guns, but those weren't a problem. It actually takes a long time to train someone to fire one of those things even in the best conditions, and Dr. Dementorz . . . you know what? I'm not calling him that anymore, guy's name was Larry, it was in the debriefing. Larry thought he could hire thugs off the street to operate serious military equipment. Based on what I saw, those guys had almost no idea what they were doing."
The name "Dr. Dementorz" was revealed to be the pseudonym of Larry Pinkington after thousands of online tipsters Googled his true identity and sent their findings to government officials. Pinkington gave himself the alias during a video broadcast earlier today in which he took responsibility for this morning's attack on the United Nations. Sources say Pinkington was planning to force-broadcast the tape using a hacked satellite but discovered that he didn't need to because most news organizations called him and asked for it. "Chaos is upon us!," Pinkington screamed in the video,"With all your leaders gone in one fell swoop, the world will descend into anarchy and confusion, forcing everyone to turn to me as their new leader!"
Pinkington's statements fell flat, however, as by the time his footage was released, the United Nations was reconvening with new delegates. "The whole transition took maybe two hours" said one representative, "I mean every major nation in the world has some sort of contingency plan if their leader gets killed. It's not like countries have one guy who magically holds everything together, and if he's dead it all goes nuts. What kind of sense would that make? There's such a think as bureaucracy. I got an email, they swore me in, and I was on a plane to the emergency meeting a few minutes later."
The military response to Dr. Dementorz' actions was the only item on the emergency meeting agenda, but the decision took so little time that the delegates voted to continue and "get some busywork out of the way". "It was an open-and-shut case" said the newly elected Secretary-General, "we had a full confession, on tape, that included a very convincing argument for why he wasn't insane but instead an evil, evil man who wanted to destroy the world. Our researchers found the coordinates of his island fortress on his Wikipedia page, confirmed it with satellite photos and verified that the island had no civilians to worry about. No moral or ethical dilemma, vote was unanimous."
Pinkerton has not been located, but he is presumed dead after a rocket-propelled escape capsule shot from the top of the fortress and exploded almost immediately. A U.S. military analyst was on-hand to survey the wreckage, "We'll confirm the identity of the body with a DNA test, but we're pretty sure that's him." he said,"It looks like the capsule was designed to reach low orbit, but a malfunction caused one of the fuel tanks to explode. That's why NASA has so many people behind every shuttle launch, you can't handle a delicate, precise operation like this with just one red button."
As nations mourn in the wake of Pinkerton's attack, they can take comfort that his actions have been avenged quickly and with no loss of innocent life. The whole encounter took so little time, however, that many U.S. civilians aren't even aware of it yet. "I wasn't even aware of that yet.", said one civilian at an Atlanta Steak n' Shake restaurant.
*This title has nothing to do with today's post. I started writing something about conspiracy theories, then changed my mind and wrote this instead. But the title was so funny, I decided to keep it.
Friday, September 28, 2007
A Brief List of Things People Need to Stop Saying at Work
1. "I'm a Choco-holic"
So you like chocolate. So what. We all do. Big deal.
Humanity has spoken on the chocolate issue. The chocolate die has been cast, and it came up "Delicious", and then someone ate the chocolate die, because it was made of that delicious, delicious chocolate.*
And you know what else? No you aren't. You are not a "Choco-holic". You are not addicted to chocolate the way an alcoholic is addicted to alcohol.
Has the Godiva rep in the mall ever "cut you off"? Did a group of your family and friends hold an intervention where they talked about how your Kit-Kat eating has affected them? Have you ever had a panic attack when you realized there was no more Hershey's Special Dark?
Well then that's not really the same thing, is it?
2. "Jim? Oh, hey, you're not Jim!"
I'm using "Jim" as an example, you understand. The name could be any name. My point is that people need to stop telling other people who they are not.
If you aren't familiar with this phenomenon, just go sit in Jim's office. Within twenty minutes someone will come in looking for Jim and say "Hey, you're not Jim", grinning stupidly like they just made the funniest joke in the world.
And then you'll have a choice. You could grin stupidly back and say, "No, I'm not Jim, least-not-the-last-time-I-checked!"
But in that moment of validating the unfunny comment, part of you will be gone forever. Within a week you'll be a "War at Home" viewer, an "American Idol" voter, and you will be lost.
Or you could do what I do, and pick from one of the three following responses:
a. "YES I AM JIM WHAT THE **** IS YOUR PROBLEM!"
b. "Jim was mauled by a cougar, you insensitive jerk! I'm here cleaning out his desk."
c. "Turns out that no one is Jim. There is no Jim and there never was. It was all a lie . . . " (Then refuse to elaborate.)
3. "It sure is cold/hot/rainy/foggy outside, huh?"
Yeah I know that. I know because I had to walk though it to get here too, and thank you for reminding me what a miserable day it is.
Why did you even say that? You aren't informing me. You aren't providing me with valuable information. You are stating as a question something that everyone here knows. What satisfaction do you get from saying obvious things and having other people nod their heads, huh? Explain it to me.
There are books you know. Lots of them. You could just read one and talk about that.
*Even though I know better, I almost always spell this word as "choclate". I think my brain sounds it out the way Sloth says it in "The Goonies", "Choc-LATE".
So you like chocolate. So what. We all do. Big deal.
Humanity has spoken on the chocolate issue. The chocolate die has been cast, and it came up "Delicious", and then someone ate the chocolate die, because it was made of that delicious, delicious chocolate.*
And you know what else? No you aren't. You are not a "Choco-holic". You are not addicted to chocolate the way an alcoholic is addicted to alcohol.
Has the Godiva rep in the mall ever "cut you off"? Did a group of your family and friends hold an intervention where they talked about how your Kit-Kat eating has affected them? Have you ever had a panic attack when you realized there was no more Hershey's Special Dark?
Well then that's not really the same thing, is it?
2. "Jim? Oh, hey, you're not Jim!"
I'm using "Jim" as an example, you understand. The name could be any name. My point is that people need to stop telling other people who they are not.
If you aren't familiar with this phenomenon, just go sit in Jim's office. Within twenty minutes someone will come in looking for Jim and say "Hey, you're not Jim", grinning stupidly like they just made the funniest joke in the world.
And then you'll have a choice. You could grin stupidly back and say, "No, I'm not Jim, least-not-the-last-time-I-checked!"
But in that moment of validating the unfunny comment, part of you will be gone forever. Within a week you'll be a "War at Home" viewer, an "American Idol" voter, and you will be lost.
Or you could do what I do, and pick from one of the three following responses:
a. "YES I AM JIM WHAT THE **** IS YOUR PROBLEM!"
b. "Jim was mauled by a cougar, you insensitive jerk! I'm here cleaning out his desk."
c. "Turns out that no one is Jim. There is no Jim and there never was. It was all a lie . . . " (Then refuse to elaborate.)
3. "It sure is cold/hot/rainy/foggy outside, huh?"
Yeah I know that. I know because I had to walk though it to get here too, and thank you for reminding me what a miserable day it is.
Why did you even say that? You aren't informing me. You aren't providing me with valuable information. You are stating as a question something that everyone here knows. What satisfaction do you get from saying obvious things and having other people nod their heads, huh? Explain it to me.
There are books you know. Lots of them. You could just read one and talk about that.
*Even though I know better, I almost always spell this word as "choclate". I think my brain sounds it out the way Sloth says it in "The Goonies", "Choc-LATE".
Friday, September 21, 2007
Go L-Block!
I wonder who you are.
Do you play video games? Do you have a friend that does? Have you read Joystiq or Penny Arcade? Maybe you just bought an Xbox one day at Target.
I have only this one thing, this single tiny view into your life, and it gives me these questions with no answers.
So who are you really, guy that only has 3 points in the Gamefaqs Character Battle Contest?
I want you to know, first of all, that I'm not making fun of you. Being able to guess who the Gamefaqs.com readers will vote for each day . . . it's not something to brag about. My score this year will never appear on my resume, or even my facebook profile. The Character Battle Contest just a fun little game that some of us geeks like to play once a year and your score says nothing about you as a person. But I'm just curious, how did you find yourself at a website about video games, enter a contest about video game characters, and wind up with a score that would lose to a blindfolded dart toss?
You've had 18 rounds, friend. Eight-teen. Each worth up to four points.
And you have 3.
Who are you, and what are you doing?
I mean even if you'd picked Mario and Link to win their battles, and we're talking about Mario and Link, two of the most well known characters ever, the hall-of-famers that get called out of retirement every season to show the rookies how it's done, even then you'd have FOUR points.
But you have 3.
Are you doing this on purpose? Is this a joke to you? Were you sitting at your computer eighteen days ago, chuckling as you picked Princess Peach over Sephiroth, as though the might of a character who walked through fire with a six foot katana, the terror of a man who called down the destruction of a planet, the numbness of the evil bastard who killed Aeris and gave an entire generation of gamers their first experience with death and loss*, as though that character could be overruled somehow by an obscure veto clause in the bylaws of the Mushroom KINGDOM!
Are you someone's cat?
Did you crawl up there on the keyboard, look from your owner to the bracket form, the bracket form to your owner, back and forth until he understood? Did the two of you work out a system of meows for each of your choices? Did he try to talk you out of picking Toad to beat Ryu? Did you meow back defiantly?
Who are you Mr. 3-point guy? And what else do you vote in?
*Especially loss of materia, I had her equipped with some good stuff when that happened!
Do you play video games? Do you have a friend that does? Have you read Joystiq or Penny Arcade? Maybe you just bought an Xbox one day at Target.
I have only this one thing, this single tiny view into your life, and it gives me these questions with no answers.
So who are you really, guy that only has 3 points in the Gamefaqs Character Battle Contest?
I want you to know, first of all, that I'm not making fun of you. Being able to guess who the Gamefaqs.com readers will vote for each day . . . it's not something to brag about. My score this year will never appear on my resume, or even my facebook profile. The Character Battle Contest just a fun little game that some of us geeks like to play once a year and your score says nothing about you as a person. But I'm just curious, how did you find yourself at a website about video games, enter a contest about video game characters, and wind up with a score that would lose to a blindfolded dart toss?
You've had 18 rounds, friend. Eight-teen. Each worth up to four points.
And you have 3.
Who are you, and what are you doing?
I mean even if you'd picked Mario and Link to win their battles, and we're talking about Mario and Link, two of the most well known characters ever, the hall-of-famers that get called out of retirement every season to show the rookies how it's done, even then you'd have FOUR points.
But you have 3.
Are you doing this on purpose? Is this a joke to you? Were you sitting at your computer eighteen days ago, chuckling as you picked Princess Peach over Sephiroth, as though the might of a character who walked through fire with a six foot katana, the terror of a man who called down the destruction of a planet, the numbness of the evil bastard who killed Aeris and gave an entire generation of gamers their first experience with death and loss*, as though that character could be overruled somehow by an obscure veto clause in the bylaws of the Mushroom KINGDOM!
Are you someone's cat?
Did you crawl up there on the keyboard, look from your owner to the bracket form, the bracket form to your owner, back and forth until he understood? Did the two of you work out a system of meows for each of your choices? Did he try to talk you out of picking Toad to beat Ryu? Did you meow back defiantly?
Who are you Mr. 3-point guy? And what else do you vote in?
*Especially loss of materia, I had her equipped with some good stuff when that happened!
Friday, September 14, 2007
Kinda like Nerf I guess.
I want there to be stuff.
It's not that I want stuff for myself, or that I want more stuff to exist. I want there to be a substance that is . . . stuff, because right now the word has almost no meaning.
A quick rundown of ways the word "stuff" is used.
"Are you ready to move?' 'I'm working on it now, I've got way too much stuff!"
"The waiter brought that stuff you ordered"
"Hey, everybody has their stuff, in a relationship you've just got to work through it."
"Yeah, well, stuff happens."
"Your stuff's in a box by the door, goodbye."*
I guess the meanings break down into three basic categories.
1. The Substantial - "Stuff" can mean physical substances or conglomerates of the things you own. This is my favorite meaning of the word, because every time someone says "I'm packing up my stuff" or "I've got to go get some stuff", I immediately get a mental image of this orange, foam material that can't be described any other way. When you go to a housewarming party and see those last few boxes marked "kitchen stuff" and "bathroom stuff", that's what's in them. In a few days the new home owners are going to open those boxes, pull out hundreds of little orange pieces and say "Where are we going to put all this STUFF?"
2. The Eventful - "Stuff" can also mean events that happen ("I can't believe all that stuff went down over the weekend") and tasks that you've got to perform ("Tuesday? No I can't, I need to do some stuff for work.") This meaning is a little weird. Calling your possessions "stuff" makes sense, because the word comes from "stuffing", like the physical stuffing in a pillow. Of course, I guess even that meaning is strange since you'd think that "my stuff" implies "that which gets crammed into me".
But calling events "stuff" isn't nearly as odd as . . .
3. The Emotional - Yes, even a person's crippling emotional baggage can be quickly and easily referred to as "stuff"!
"That dude has a lot of stuff to work out with his parents."
"He's still dealing with his breakup stuff."
Somehow it seems a little cold to call serious personal issues by the same term that means "the assorted items in my hallway closet" and "the hour I'm going to spend making a presentation for my boss", but then I suppose this meaning is more subtle. Emotional "stuff" is "don't ask stuff". It's a euphemism, really. That guy? He's got some stuff. Leave that stuff alone, that is HIS stuff.
And I guess that's the running theme of these definitions, they're all possessive. I don't know what "stuff" is, but I know there's your stuff and there's my stuff, and it's completely different stuff.
*I meant these examples to be random, but when you read them in order like that . . . well, it's quite a little narrative!
It's not that I want stuff for myself, or that I want more stuff to exist. I want there to be a substance that is . . . stuff, because right now the word has almost no meaning.
A quick rundown of ways the word "stuff" is used.
"Are you ready to move?' 'I'm working on it now, I've got way too much stuff!"
"The waiter brought that stuff you ordered"
"Hey, everybody has their stuff, in a relationship you've just got to work through it."
"Yeah, well, stuff happens."
"Your stuff's in a box by the door, goodbye."*
I guess the meanings break down into three basic categories.
1. The Substantial - "Stuff" can mean physical substances or conglomerates of the things you own. This is my favorite meaning of the word, because every time someone says "I'm packing up my stuff" or "I've got to go get some stuff", I immediately get a mental image of this orange, foam material that can't be described any other way. When you go to a housewarming party and see those last few boxes marked "kitchen stuff" and "bathroom stuff", that's what's in them. In a few days the new home owners are going to open those boxes, pull out hundreds of little orange pieces and say "Where are we going to put all this STUFF?"
2. The Eventful - "Stuff" can also mean events that happen ("I can't believe all that stuff went down over the weekend") and tasks that you've got to perform ("Tuesday? No I can't, I need to do some stuff for work.") This meaning is a little weird. Calling your possessions "stuff" makes sense, because the word comes from "stuffing", like the physical stuffing in a pillow. Of course, I guess even that meaning is strange since you'd think that "my stuff" implies "that which gets crammed into me".
But calling events "stuff" isn't nearly as odd as . . .
3. The Emotional - Yes, even a person's crippling emotional baggage can be quickly and easily referred to as "stuff"!
"That dude has a lot of stuff to work out with his parents."
"He's still dealing with his breakup stuff."
Somehow it seems a little cold to call serious personal issues by the same term that means "the assorted items in my hallway closet" and "the hour I'm going to spend making a presentation for my boss", but then I suppose this meaning is more subtle. Emotional "stuff" is "don't ask stuff". It's a euphemism, really. That guy? He's got some stuff. Leave that stuff alone, that is HIS stuff.
And I guess that's the running theme of these definitions, they're all possessive. I don't know what "stuff" is, but I know there's your stuff and there's my stuff, and it's completely different stuff.
*I meant these examples to be random, but when you read them in order like that . . . well, it's quite a little narrative!
Friday, September 7, 2007
The Sound of Your Own Wheels
Do you know what a sabot is? It's ok if you don't, I wouldn't know except that Jamie used one in the episode of the Mythbusters where he built a tortilla-shooting machine.
What is a sabot?
Let's say that I have a small object, like a golf ball, and I try to shoot it out of something large, like a cannon . . . which would probably be pretty cool. But it wouldn't work very well. A canon is built to fire balls that fill the barrel, using gunpowder as a sort of ultimate Draino to clear the blockage. Since my golf ball wouldn't come close to filling the cannon, it would miss out on most of the blast and drop pitifully short. To make the golf ball go further I'd need a sabot.
A sabot is a carrier, it would go around my golf ball but also fill the barrel. When the cannon fired, my sabot would take the full force of the blast, zipping down the cannon while taking the golf ball along for the ride. Then, and this is the most important part, the sabot would fall away. A sabot comes in multiple pieces, so once mine was free of the barrel, it would break apart to let the golf ball keep going.
And that, in a nutshell, is what a sabot does . . . although if you cracked it first, I guess a nutshell could BE a sabot.
*zen*
I realized today that "The Eagles" are a sabot.
If you're not familiar with The Eagles, tune your radio to a classic rock station, then wait twenty minutes. If there aren't any classic rock stations in your area, why not start your own? It's easy. You can run a successful classic rock station with only five songs!
Hotel California by The Eagles
Simple Kind of Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Sultans of Swing by Dire Straits
American Woman by Guess Who
Hotel California by The Eagles (you need a second copy for when you wear the first one out)
See, a lot of people I know went through a period in their lives where they liked "The Eagles", even thought they were the "greatest band of all time." But then somewhere along the way, all these people stopped listening to their Eagles albums as they experienced more diverse, interesting, an unique music. And that's fine. But then somewhere else along the way, these people also collectively turned back and said "**** The Eagles!". Suddenly they thought "The Eagles" were terrible, and wondered why they ever loved the live version of "Take It Easy" where they changed the lyrics to say "southern California" so everyone would cheer.*
I think this is wrong, and it's unfair. It's not that "The Eagles" are bad, and in fact you should be grateful for them. Your sixteen-year-old self wasn't ready to hear the artists that you listen to now. At that time, you didn't have the aural or life experience to appreciate diverse, interesting, and unique music. You were a golf ball in a cannon, with the force of musical appreciation going right over you. Something had to get you through that period, let you enjoy music and become interested in it without demanding much from you.
"The Eagles" were your sabot. And when you moved past that place, "The Eagles" fell away.
*And you are a liar if you say you didn't.
What is a sabot?
Let's say that I have a small object, like a golf ball, and I try to shoot it out of something large, like a cannon . . . which would probably be pretty cool. But it wouldn't work very well. A canon is built to fire balls that fill the barrel, using gunpowder as a sort of ultimate Draino to clear the blockage. Since my golf ball wouldn't come close to filling the cannon, it would miss out on most of the blast and drop pitifully short. To make the golf ball go further I'd need a sabot.
A sabot is a carrier, it would go around my golf ball but also fill the barrel. When the cannon fired, my sabot would take the full force of the blast, zipping down the cannon while taking the golf ball along for the ride. Then, and this is the most important part, the sabot would fall away. A sabot comes in multiple pieces, so once mine was free of the barrel, it would break apart to let the golf ball keep going.
And that, in a nutshell, is what a sabot does . . . although if you cracked it first, I guess a nutshell could BE a sabot.
*zen*
I realized today that "The Eagles" are a sabot.
If you're not familiar with The Eagles, tune your radio to a classic rock station, then wait twenty minutes. If there aren't any classic rock stations in your area, why not start your own? It's easy. You can run a successful classic rock station with only five songs!
Hotel California by The Eagles
Simple Kind of Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Sultans of Swing by Dire Straits
American Woman by Guess Who
Hotel California by The Eagles (you need a second copy for when you wear the first one out)
See, a lot of people I know went through a period in their lives where they liked "The Eagles", even thought they were the "greatest band of all time." But then somewhere along the way, all these people stopped listening to their Eagles albums as they experienced more diverse, interesting, an unique music. And that's fine. But then somewhere else along the way, these people also collectively turned back and said "**** The Eagles!". Suddenly they thought "The Eagles" were terrible, and wondered why they ever loved the live version of "Take It Easy" where they changed the lyrics to say "southern California" so everyone would cheer.*
I think this is wrong, and it's unfair. It's not that "The Eagles" are bad, and in fact you should be grateful for them. Your sixteen-year-old self wasn't ready to hear the artists that you listen to now. At that time, you didn't have the aural or life experience to appreciate diverse, interesting, and unique music. You were a golf ball in a cannon, with the force of musical appreciation going right over you. Something had to get you through that period, let you enjoy music and become interested in it without demanding much from you.
"The Eagles" were your sabot. And when you moved past that place, "The Eagles" fell away.
*And you are a liar if you say you didn't.
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