Thursday, January 31, 2013

Stranger Than Fiction



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I love this move.  I mean, I really love this movie.  Like, I have in-a-tree-kissing-and-marrying-it kind of love for this movie.  It has everything: a tax man, a baker, a literature professor who lifeguards, a writer, and Buster (from Arrested Development) as a best friend who wants to attend space camp.  It has writer's block, death research, flours, Fenders, narrative, a sterile filing room, cubicles, psychiatrists, tragedy, music aspiration, comedy, clever dialog, apartment demolition, honesty, teeth-brushing, cookies, apples, sacrifice, and an awkward bus ride with awkward small talk.  It references Greek literature, seven fairy tales, ten Chinese fables, King Hamlet, Scout Finch, Miss Marple, Frankenstein's Monster, an a golem.  It has watches, dry humor, Animal Planet, calculations, romance, integers, Wreckless Eric, Spoon, and another ketchy, tear-jerker from Vangelis ('member Chariots of Fire?)

And finally, it has this gem:
"Sometimes, when we lose ourselves in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tragedy, we can thank God for Bavarian sugar cookies. And, fortunately, when there aren't any cookies, we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin, or a kind and loving gesture, or subtle encouragement, or a loving embrace, or an offer of comfort, not to mention hospital gurneys and nose plugs, an uneaten Danish, soft-spoken secrets, and Fender Stratocasters, and maybe the occasional piece of fiction. And we must remember that all these things, the nuances, the anomalies, the subtleties, which we assume only accessorize our days, are effective for a much larger and nobler cause. They are here to save our lives."

It's written by Zach Helm.  Who is this genius?



Monday, January 28, 2013

Cut and Shave Off


This week is ripening. It shall be a doozy.  The Boss said yesterday that we will "need to throw everything we have at it to keep up."  Currently I don't throw everything I have at my job, so I'm sitting on my duff discussing out-loud, via keyboard 'n blogger, what and which I can cut or shave off, to release extra minutes for thowing.

What to cut... hmm.... how 'bout I just don't cut and don't shave off?  Sounds good to me.  Here are ten things I won't cut or shave off this week:
  1. My hair.  Canceled an appointment.
  2. My legs. Threw away the razor.
  3. The armpits.  Out of waxing strips anyways.
  4. The mustache.  Staches are in now. 
  5. The chin hairs.  Bonus! Stroking those things helps me think.
  6. My toe hairs.  It's boot not sandal season.  Duh.
  7. Two other parts.  Blush.
  8. The eyebrows.  Hello Brooke!
  9. Both arms.  Yeah, I shave those too.
  10. My ring finger.  Let the ring do the removing for a change.  Lazy fart is worthless!
Wow.  Look at all that cutting and shaving off.  It's a miracle I get anything done.  This week will be a nice break.  Trouble is, however, that come Monday, I will look like this:


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Secksy!


Sunday, January 27, 2013

13


Today's ditty is all about the Number 13.

Oh goody! I hear you say.  I love numbers!  I wish you'd do a number ditty every day! Wherein I'd say, Hells yeah. Numbers are significant enough that I could do a ditty on a number each and every day, up until infinity or death, whichever comes first.

(For the record, I'm praying for death before infinity.)

Thirteen – which can be written in numerical form unless it starts a sentence – is the natural occurring number that presents it's bad self after 12 and before 14.  This, the Number 13, is loaded with folklore.  Experts at Wikipedia say it is "due to the cultures employing lunar-solar calendars [because] there are approximately 12.41 lunations per solar year, and hence 12 'true months' plus a smaller, and often portentous, thirteenth month."

Long story short: 13 is significant because the lunar rotation of planet earth suggests that there is an impending 13th month each (and every!) year.  Isn't that terrifically interesting, entertaining, and informative?  It is! Don't go anywhere, I'm just getting started.  Oh am I just getting started...

(By the way, you can get all this crap from Wikipedia, so if you'd rather read it there, knock yourself out.)

  • Thirteen is the 8th number in the Fibonacci sequence. Which, to me, will always represent the classic knapsack problem, even though it doesn't really represent the classic knapsack problem.  In my world, all math is a classic knapsack problem.
  • Thirteen to the 13th is 302875106592253.
  • Jewish boys and girls reach maturity at 13.  They celebrate with a Bar Mitzvah, and hope that Adam Sandler will be there to entertain with cheesy wedding-singer songs.
  • While we're on the subject , lets say Wow! That's cool! to the fact that the Jewish faith has 13 principles, and God has 13 Attributes of Mercy.
  • Many religious organization, including Islam and Christianity, have 1 Messiah or Prophet or Leader and 12 followers or disciples.  Twelve 'n one make 13.
  • A coven is formed by 13 witches.  Traditionally, that is.  Those fancy-pants, new-age witches prolly have deviated from the tradition. 
  • When a Pentagram has a circle ratio of 13, each arm of the star is 12.36; same as the number of lunar months (above), and – wait for it – the arms of each star, five in all, is the same number of full moons in five years.  No way, right?  Way.
  • The American Flag has 13 stripes, to represent the 13 original colonies.
  • The Number 13 has unlucky affiliations.  For example, a hangman's noose is made of 13 turns; Jesus Christ had 13 at his last supper (some of us feel this is lucky); a Friday, on the 13th day of the month, is considered unlucky; and all of this is because some dude named Charles Stewart Parnell had an "irrational fear" of "1" and "3" side-by-side.  As an aside, Parnell was a Irish Politician.  Add that to the silly do-it-green tradition of March 17, and you have another reason to be pissed at the Irish.  Grin.
  • Thirteen can be lucky and is a highly sought-after number for professional athletes.  Athletic greats include Babe Ruth, Dan Marino, Wilt Chamberlain (who slept with prolly 13,000), Shaquille O'Neal, and many more.  Also, 13 is the most registered number among Roller Derby divas.
  • NASA space ship Apollo 13 is both lucky and unlucky.  Considered a "successful failure,"  this space mission never made it to the moon for a walk, but landed safely after some technical difficulties.
  • The current year is 2013.  Just thought I'd remind you, in case you forgot and would thereby miss the significance of the grand finale.
And finally....

Thirteen is the number of years for which Spouse and Rabid have been married.

Happy Anniversary to us.  Today!  

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(Speaking of lucky...13 times?  Nah.)


Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Bitchin' Moan


Hi there.  How's it going?  It's been a long time.

Since the last post, the one dated December the 17th, much has happened while nothing has happened.  For example, I started A Tale of Two Cities, an epic feat indeed.  This proves much is happening, but I haven't finished it yet, so that proves the nothing-has-happened part.

Then there's humanity.  I was just now sitting here, basking in the glow of a terrific day, when it occurred to me that much of humanity bothers the holy snot out of me.  Then it occurred to me that this humanity, with which bothers the holy snot out of me, is here for entertainment.  It sure is.  All I have to do is watch.

Then there's this cold 'n flu situation that I've been fighting.  Perhaps the true origin of my holy snot is related to my hovering cold 'n flu situation.  Perhaps it's not humanity, as was blamed above.  Being as I go to church most Sundays, my snot has to be holy.  It just has to be.  So that's where the holy in "holy snot" comes from.

Then there's this blog.  All sorts of things are happening; things that belong in memoriam for all time and infinity.  But here's the deal:  somewhere along the line I've become reserved.  Conventional.  Diffident. Prim. And Solitary.  It's as if I care what people think now.  That is no fun at all.

It's time to bring back the unconventional, the wacky, and the undies-in-an-uproar over something just because you can!  I want to be snarky again.  I want to make fun of myself.  I want to make fun of you. I want to get rid of serious.

Am I serious about much of humanity bothering me?  Not really.  Humanity is good.  We all know that.  The grass-roots core of most folks radiates a glowy glow.  It's the need to get serious about fringe crap that is annoying.  Enough with the serious.  I want to bitch and moan without it becoming serious.

Speaking of bitch and moan.  I got a bitchin' moan.