Friday, December 15, 2006

I have seen the Nerd-Dork-Geek promised land.

It's here. Oh holy crap!

It's a side to side scale comparision of starships from various Sci Fi franchises -- film, TV, "literature", comics and video games. And not just "Star Wars" and "Star Trek". No, little one, the HARD STUFF is here.

Macross? Check.

2001? Check

Freaking Event Horizon? Ummmm, yeah.

Space 1999. Are you not listening? Did you eat paint chips as a child? YES, goddamn it, the Vorlon Planet Killer, the Halo, both Death Stars, the Malon Export Vessel -- I don't even know what the hell that is, but it's here goddamn it, it's here and that's what matters. Fuck yes.

There are 37 Star Fleet vessels represented alone. 37!!!! Bonus for IE users: you can drag and drop each ship, making little explosion sounds with your mouth.

It's a wonder that I found a woman willing to hold my hand, much less marry me.

More geek porn: Celestia. Works like a Google earth, but for a chunk of the known universe. You can bung over to the moons of Saturn and then piss off to Vega,making sweet star ship sound effects with your mouth. Awesome.

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Thursday, December 14, 2006

Tropicalia can probably cause you to die in a firey helicopter crash.

But don't take my word for it. Check out
this nerve-wracking, beautiful video teleported from the Brazilian '70s. (Ripped off from the not at all gender ambiguous White Belts.)

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Thursday, December 07, 2006

300 units of undiluted piffle.

This the 300th post. Here's the #1. (It's actually #2. #1 is just like, hey! I have blog!, so we can skip that, right?)

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Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Slight lessening of hatred of the season.



Wife got fake tree, took portrait of boy under said fake tree. Cute. Small chink found in my hatred of Santa Claus, the Christian Church, the Jewish faith, Snow, the month of December, virgin births, Stockings hung with care, family functions, shopping, humanity, wrapping paper, choral music, christmas TV specials, stop motion animation, traditional cel animation, Rankin Bass, Hannukah, Wreaths, driving, shopping malls, egg nog, ham, conversation, the elderly, charity, hope, faith, the entire oevre of Christmas Hymns, Bing Crosby, Mickey Rooney, Fred Astaire, Perry Como, Georg Handel, Nat King Cole, Eartha Kit, the Beach Boys, the Gospel, the Tanakh, Charles Dickens, any and all variations of the Christmas Carol (including the Muppets Christmas Carol) sleighs, jingle bells, theism, montheism, tannenbaums, elves, Zwarte Piet, St. Nicholaus, Father Christmas, Father Frost, Kris Kringle, Santa Claus (again), the Three Ships, the Baby Jesus, Hannukah Harry, O. Henry, Mary Baker Eddy, the Koran, Al'Lah, the Talmud, The Trinity, Martin Luther, Mark, John, Paul, Luke, the Book of Common Prayer, the Book of Mormon, Thomas Aquinas, the Haidith, Zoroaster, near eastern sky gods,any sort of Magi, Silence (day or night), flocking, garland, giant inflatable Santas-reindeers-pine trees, garish windows decorations, sales, the arboreal race, cookies, ginger, nutmeg, vanilla, Mexican wedding cakes, lemon squares, roast beef, Ambrosia salad, the Salvation Army, Public Address systems, scarves, puffy jackets, hats, thick socks, bells, brass bands, top hats, holly, red noses, ear muffs, festive sweaters adorned with reindeers, the color red, the color green, plaid, waistcoats, turtle necks, football, hockey, college sports, school vacations, tinsel, little wooden clogs, the names Joseph, Mary and Jesus, angels, mangers, the Roman census, 12 nights, 12 days of anything,the supernatural, menorrahs, Kawanzaa, people making jokes about Kawanzaa, greeting people, jocularity, the Bishop of Constantinople, the Eastern Roman Empire, Federal Holidays, Bethelhem, King Wenceslas, latkes, Christmas plays, creches, singing donkeys-sheep-camels, snowmen, reindeer, disappointment, joy, Hans Brinker, ice skates, Tim Allen, mulled wine, drunk relatives, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, YHWH, Yule, pagan regeneration myths, the Mithras cult, the Norse god Baldur, mistletoe, disrupted mail delivery, New Years, Dick Clark, glittering balls, ornaments, lights, light, protons in general, shorts days, long nights, monthly credit card statements, churlish crumdgeons that hate Christmas, and the seasonal spirit of giving to those less fortunate that ends on Boxing Day.

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Monday, December 04, 2006

Mikon? What you at man?

Your mama called, she's mad, man.

(Mikon is a blog friend from Malayaasisiasia, also spelled Malaysia)

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Sunday, December 03, 2006

You ever get sick of yourself?

Now, I'm not listening to Bela Lagosi's Dead on a loop or anything. I'm my usual sassy and pretenaturally sexy self, I'm just... bored. I guess what caused it I was looking over the archives here on the blog and old projects elsewhere, and golly, I'm in some kind of a slump. I haven't been able to crank out the weird crap lately, and that always freaks me out.

Also, I'm getting annoyed with the job, the inane hoops you have to jump through to create anything halfway interesting. (That's an industry condition, like lacking wings is part of the human condition). It also doesn't help that I just read a brilliantly written book called "George and Sam" (great, unsentimental memoir of a single mom with two autistic sons), and it always sort of bums me out to read the writing of a particularly resourceful writer.

We also had a Seinfeldian cancer scare last week. Paula told me a little too much vague information about a recent illness and I somehow conflated it into a possible emergency hysterectomy (for her, not me). She had a test on Thursday and I spent the night listening to everyone in the family breathe in the dark while I stared at the ceiling, wondering if I should take a year off from work to deal with being a widower and single father. Um, looks like the plan was premature. Seems Paula was dealing with something that most women deal with once a month (I never knew!), and that had affected a previous test.

So next week, there'll be an ultrasound just to be on the safe side. Jesus.

And Christmas... the cheer is just not fucking there, people. It's just wicked cold out and I'm a fat bastard.

A brightspot is a possible lunch with blogfriend Kim sometime during the 12 days of Xmas, and gorging on The Wire on HBO. (If Dickens wrote a novel about the Baltimore heroin trade, it would read something like The Wire.)

Anyway, that's me. Anyone have any Magic Mushrooms, you know, just to blow the shit out of my head?

Email me directly. Will be discreet.

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