Elen sila lumenn omentielvo!

Monday, February 11, 2013

Sentential Links

Want some linkage? Sure you do.

:: That eight hour chunk in the middle of the day when I am at, what they laughably call "work" -- now that could go, quite easily. They keep insisting on giving me money for it, however (the fiends!) which I just can't say no to. A big pile of cash could solve that quite easily, but they just don't leave those lying around. Or maybe they do and I'm always late getting there. I don't know. (Heh...tell me about it. I'm pretty sure some awful rapscallion is out there having fun on my dime, and it pisses me off!)

:: I have never heard such laughter in my house. I have never seen such smiles. And I have never seen such a heartfelt, spontaneous and natural mingling of cultures, sharing of customs -- and a speedy exchange of phone numbers and Facebook pages. All because of pie.

:: And the time for debate is long since past anyway; the science is in, and it’s sound science. I’m tired of politicians equivocating and hemming and hawing about global warming. We need to stop fiddling while the world burns, and start putting out this fire.

:: The Piecemeal God is a powerful interdimensional entity, a survivor from the previous iteration of the universe, essentially trapped in the Void between worlds, and only able to manifest physically through its worshipers. Members of its cult cultivate purity of spirit, striving to attain a state of mind as close to that of their deity as possible. When a Cultist reaches that "purity", the Piecemeal God crosses over into our universe, transforming its Cultist's flesh into part of its unholy body. Because no single three-dimensional creature can contain this Lovecraftian entity, the Piecemeal God must content itself with this disconnected existence. (I'm not sure what to make of this....)

:: Remember, kids: it never gets better. Petty, childish, entitled arguments will always happen. Every day. Constantly. There are always boors and poseurs and selfish me-monkeys in life, no matter where you go, and being on the Internet simply opens up the possibility of running across more of them. It’s the dichotomy of existence: we yearn for connection and companionship and commiseration, only to find that there are few people who are truly worth the effort. Life really is high school with money.

The nice thing about growing up is that, unlike high school, you get the chance to limit your contact with the people who are annoying dicks about it.

:: If you want to transfer a few hundred gigabytes of data, it’s generally faster to FedEx a hard drive than to send the files over the internet. This isn’t a new idea—it’s often dubbed SneakerNet—and it’s how Google transfers large amounts of data internally. (Wow, the things you learn!)

:: She knew she was in trouble when the film's female lead, Marjorie Reynolds, started putting on the blackface and worrying aloud that what she'd hoped for the number was to be pretty... the implication being that, by portraying a black woman, she couldn't be. (I don't recall ever seeing that scene before, so I watched it on YouTube and...oh Lord, how awful. Ye Gods. My only memory of ever watching Holiday Inn was at Christmastime one year while I was in college, and my sister derisively saying, "Whoever thought of casting Bing Crosby as a romantic lead was insane." In truth, I kinda had to agree. He had a wonderful voice, but the man did not in my eyes ever once radiate romantic vibes of any sort. In my head, Bing Crosby is always sixty years old and smoking a pipe.)

:: The writer Pete Hamill said in 2005 that he was “some mad combination of a Lindy’s waiter, Coney Island barker, Catskills comedian, irritated school principal and eccentric uncle.” This was meant as a compliment, and it’s pretty accurate. The praise he received was no doubt warranted, but somehow, I was not his biggest fan. (I don't have too many thoughts on Ed Koch, to be honest...we moved to New York while he was mayor of NYC, and he ran for Governor a year after we arrived (and called all of us upstaters a bunch of rubes, basically). I dunno...he was just kind of there, I suppose.)

All for this week. Tune in next week!

1 comment:

Roger Owen Green said...

The Holiday Inn's Abraham segment for Lincoln's Birthday was awful, just awful. I'm wondering if you 're just a lot more aware than you were in college, or maybe you were out of the room when that segment came on.