Infinite Repeat

Ever wonder what would happen if you typed "image" into Google's image search?

I thought my computer would blow up, but evidently, all you get is some pretty sciency stuff like this.

Cool.

Pretty Pictures

I just wanted to see if this picture posting thing worked. If you're wondering, this is not me; it's an anthropoligical view of Jesus.

Nice, eh?

Where's Luke?

Skywalker, that is.

Lately, during my travels in and around Pennsylvania, I've noticed a lot of weird poles: metal spears rising from the ground, and terminating in some sort of triangular platform.

I have no idea what the purpose of these poles are or how far spread across the U.S. they are. The only thing I know is that they look eerily like that funky-ass platform from the end of Empire Strikes Back.

You know the one - the rickety thing supporting poor, handless Luke before Chewy and Lando rescue him.

The existence of said poles, I've concluded, leads directly to one, world-shattering new fact:

We are living at the bottom of Cloud City.

All I want for Christmas ...

... is a Festivus Pole

http://www.festivuspoles.com/pages/Festivuspoles.htm

You don't need to be a Seinfeld fan to marvel at this design. It's like something out of a dream.

When the yellow fades, do the terrorists win?

My friend lives in a slightly more "red-state" neighborhood than I do. And by "slightly", I mean "very" - lots of ugly plastic Christmas decorations, uncreative lawn configurations, and a yellow ribbon on every tree.

Or should I say ... a white ribbon.

Yes, those "Support Our Troops" ribbons have faded, as so many neo-con hopes and dreams of a rose pedal covered Iraq.

My question: Is there anything less patriotic and more embarrassing than a faded symbol?

No, no there isn't.

And that goes double for you, stupid magnetic ribbon bumper things!

Why don't I care?

Last week, I was all about the James Kim tragedy.

This week, I could care less about the stranded climbers.

It's funny how compassion works, and I don't quite understand it. But if I see another news report with those three women holding each other's hands, talking about their husbands/brothers with all the emotion of an Ikea lamp, I might just wander up my local mountain and get lost myself.

Coffee doesn't work

I'm not a regular coffee drinker and that's a problem. Especially when my eyelids are sagging and I just can't bring myself to think lucidly about which way staples go in the stapler.

When you're not a regular coffee drinker, and you get a cup of coffee, the reaction is a bit different. Sure, you perk up just the same, and your concentration is slightly better. But what you concentrate on is not healthy.

For instance, almost immediately after taking a few sips this morning, I immediately felt sad and paranoid. I kept thinking about my lack of contribution to a pub quiz game yesterday and became depressed about my precipitous decline in "smartness."

So, no more coffee for me. I shall, instead, slap myself repeatedly in the face while singing the unused Ween jingle for Pizza Hut.

http://www.dancingjesus.com/ween.htm

And on a similar note ...

It may also come as no surprise that, had I had the opportunity, I would have totally pigged out on all of the whipped cream and chocolate sauce they had on Double Dare.

I don't understand how all the idiot contestants would just try to run through the obstacles without sampling some of that free dessert.

Mmmmmmmm, Double Dare.

Parmesan Cheese

You ever wish those fake snow makers would blow out parmesan cheese?

And then you could slolem around meatballs through a glorious trail of pasta?

No?

I guess it's just me.

Addictive

http://n.ethz.ch/student/mkos/pinguin.swf

Theoretically, clubbing penguins is bad.

In practice? Mesmerizing.

Arggggggggghhhhhhhhh!

Why do I want to see Rocky Balboa so much?

It's bordering on embarrassing how much I want to see this movie.

Can somebody please help me with this affliction? It might leave me permanently scarred with hope and optimism. And I'm way too cool for that.

I'm bad at Christmas

I really am.

I don't send out cards, I don't have a tree, I don't decorate anything. I only get presents when I know I have to, and, even then, I deliberate over stupid decisions for hours on end.

I'm not religious, so I'm shielded from having to go to church and celebrate. But I don't even like most of the other aspects of Christmas: shopping, travel, charity (I hate the aggressive ones) and the news stories about people mad at the phrase "Happy Holidays". Who cares?

I'll say this once and with feeling: Thanksgiving is the best holiday.

The pet that doesn't love you back

"Docile, except when awake."

Taken from a veterinary professor's lecture notes talking about hamsters.

Evidently, hamsters are evil, but gerbils are okey-dokey.

Go figure.

"Back of the baseball card"

I want to start a new phrase. Well, it's not really a new phrase, but I want to start using it metaphorically and hopefully, it will catch on with the masses.

"Back of the baseball card"

I know not everyone collected baseball cards as a kid, but I think most understand that the back of the baseball card was a repository of all the player's stats. It was basically a quick glance at the what the player had done in the last few years.

Why can't we use this phrase in everyday life? So instead of saying, "Give me the rundown on him" or "What's the 411?", you can now say, "Give the back of the baseball card version" or "Just back of the baseball card it for me, ok?"

Doesn't that just sound cool?

Ok, ok, I know it has a lot of syllables and the whole thing jumbles together when said aloud, but you have to admit, it's got pizzazz.

And, sometimes, pizzazz is the only thing that matters.

Flintstones coming, Jetsons going

In making fun of a co-worker for having a check-out process that's eerily similar to the opening sequence of the Flintstones, I noticed something peculiar.

The Flintstones opens with Fred leaving work and coming back home, whereas the Jetsons introduction chronicles the beginning of the family members' day.

This confounds me. Why wouldn't the Jetsons (which came later) stay with the same template established by the Flintstones? Is there a specific reason for this Bizarro opening?

Conspiracy Theory #26:
When Fred Flinstone gets home and goes to sleep, the slumber lasts thousands of years, and he turns into George Jetson, scrambling to get his family dropped off and his ass to work.

I bet the writers had this planned all along. What sadistic, sad geniuses.

The Perfect Screensaver

I may be stepping on someone's invention here, but this could be really cool.

Basically, the screensaver I envision is actually a software widget that records up to a half hour of screen activity and is able to replay it in a loop when the user is unavailable.

In other words, this is the ultimate "looking busy" camouflage. Just do a half hour of work, engage the screensaver and zone out. You can literally fall asleep in front of your computer and you would be the picture of serene productivity.

Conversely, if you really step away from your desk, the screensaver would make it look like you're a supergenius who's reprogrammed a computer to do work by itself.

It's ingenious! And it will help me take over the world.

Bwahhahhahahahahaa!

Heroes vs. Lost

Lost is better.