Late Trains, Ex-Cons, and our own Mr. Bean

I am not sure if I am ever happy to be in Ottawa, especially not in winter. It's so freakin' cold in the nation's capital, which is probably why we have so many corrupt politicians. That kind of weather would make anyone sour and turn them criminal. Just ask our cab driver.

We hopped in a cab at the train station after an extra long train trip. Our four hour trip became five hours because of some delays, like a broken down train ahead of us. It is a little odd to be suddenly moving in reverse, tracking over ground we had already passed so that we could change tracks and skirt the dead train ahead. Anyway, we made it, somewhat later than we had planned. Then, we were off to the Ottawa Market were I had a salmon fillet that cost $29 plus two $8 glasses of Shiraz. Maybe that is why we have so many corrupt politicians.

Our taxi driver decided to be our personal tour guide, pointing our things like the RCMP Headquarters, the University of Ottawa/L’Université d’Ottawa, and the old jail. And then he added that "I did time there in '65." At least we knew it wasn't for murder, 'cause he'd have been locked up for a lot longer than that. He had tats all over both hands, and I assume over the rest of his body as well, which is odd because he looked so clean cut otherwise. I guess he has rehabilitated himself. I regret not asking what his crime was. Maybe he had been a corrupt politician?

And then it snowed again. It snowed a lot more.

* * *

Every time I travel with a certain colleague, he manages to be the source of immense amounts of unintentional hilarity. For one thing, he can sleep anywhere. He slept in the car most of the way back from Brock University (the real Last Chance U, if you ask me, even though Google thinks it's Carleton). He slept in the most uncomfortable chair I have ever seen while awaiting the beginning of a lecture at McMaster University. He managed to sleep for most of the train ride back from Ottawa, even after mentioning that he woke up at 3:00 AM the previous night. And, he blamed it on jet lag after his flight back from Shanghai, even though I assume that he must have slept the whole way back :-) The funniest thing is that he always puts on his coat and wears it like some sort of sleeping bag, with the hood pulled down over his face. I'd post a photo (which I have) but perhaps I better not do that.

Anyway, I can't give you a rundown of this man's hilariousness: that would consume way too much time and space, so I'll just leave you with one: when he stood up from our breakfast table at some dubious and curious breakfast & lunch chain, he managed to spill all of the water on the table, leaving us all baffled but laughing. It doesn't sound funny, but it was. I guess you had to be there.

* * *

I read most of Will Self's Dr. Mukti and Other Tales of Woe on the train ride to Ottawa. He's a good writer.

the snow is falling

since my left shift key is broken, i am forgoing capitalization.

the snow, perhaps the leading edge of another promised winter storm, is falling in ottawa. it makes me wonder if this will affect the train.

this wireless network at the hotel is anemic and it bumps me off every minute or two, so this will be a short post.

i have to get on my coat and trudge up to the university of ottawa, which some folks call 'last chance u." and i thought that was brock...

Jason Reitman

I was lucky enough to get a seat in a guest lecture given by Jason Reitman last Friday. Don't feel obligated to follow that link (g-d, I hate MySpace). As you know, he directed Juno. My lame ass pseudo-review is here. Don't feel obligated to follow that link either. My literary review of The Squid and the Whale is much better, as is my spectacular and totally hilarious restaurant review. I mean, those were real reviews, written for my reviewing class. Feel free to follow those links.

This dude is hilarious. (I hope I can use the word hilarious twice in one post. The word itself is hilarious). Jason clearly has a natural gift for comedy. His stories were funny and even his jokes were funny. I snapped a few photos during, but shied away from the post-lecture scrum in the lobby, although I did move in and take a couple of photos.

Too bad you missed it. If you ever get the chance to hear him speak, I suggest you go.

On a librarianish note, I was amused to hear him point out a factual error in a Wikipedia entry, not that I am a harsh critic of the site. As I always say, it needs to be approached cautiously, like when you are trying to walk through a mine field. I've said that before, right?

P.S. I am taking the train to Ottawa today. I'll be back to work on Thursday.

A Jerry Seinfeld Moment and Double-Dipping

On my way to a meeting last Thursday, I dropped my pen on the floor of the men's washroom. For a brief moment (perhaps a nanosecond) I considered picking it up, but I was suddenly horrified by what kind of bacteria might have attached itself to it in that short period of time. A recent study on the 5 second rule concluded that whatever bacteria is on the floor is immediately transferred to the object that has impacted the floor, but the authors note that there is far less bacteria on the floor than we expect, except in men's washrooms, to which I have already alluded.

So, I did what Jerry Seinfeld would do and left it where it landed. No, I don't consider that littering. I never litter. I knew that later, some custodial staff person (one day, robots will have this job) will come in to clean and refresh the supplies and this person will sweep up the pen and either throw it away or put it in his/her pocket. Either way is fine with me.

By the way, I dropped the pen at 9:55 AM, and it was still there at 5:00 PM, but it was gone the next morning.

In related news, a study* has concluded that Double-Dipping does indeed spread cooties. The study found that "for every time a bitten cracker went back into the bowl, hundreds, and probably even thousands of bacteria cells went with it." In other words, the dip becomes a bacterial soup. It makes me cringe. I am not, nor have I ever been, a double-dipper because, as Timmy said to George, "that's like putting your whole mouth right in the dip."

*To be published in the Journal of Food Safety, 2008.

February 30th

Did you know that February, in some calendars - like the Swedish Calendar (prior to 1753), the Soviet Revolutionary Calendar (which was ceased in 1931), and the Early Julian Calendar - occasionally had a February 30th? It all leads to me to wonder we don't have a more precise calendar. Of course, there are lots of examples of calendar reform, but I simply want to know how we can make summer longer in Canada. Moving the planet would be a good idea.

More importantly, I've broken my left shift key on my Toshiba laptop. This might mean that I will need to purchase a new keyboard, and they are not cheap. There is a company in the UK that sells single keys, but not for my model. At least the keys can be replaced, unlike some brands, where you must get a new keyboard. if you know of someone in Tdot that sells keys for Toshibas, please let me know.

Matt & Sarah & Ben & Jimmy

These two videos, in case you somehow missed them, are totally hilarious. That's all I'll say. Just have a look, if you like...or you can read yesterday's post, 'cause I like it very much.

George W. Bush vs. Dan Quayle

It's really amazing how my mind wanders when I am cycling. Some of my best ideas occur while cruising the streets. Here's an example from yesterday.

Somewhere on Bloor Street, I concluded that George W. Bush could take Dan Quayle in a wrestling match, but only if it were Greco-Roman style. In the WWE format, I predicted Dan would prevail, probably because he would bring out a chair and break it over Dubya's head. And, that made me wonder about other combative events:

Boxing - I'd put my money on Dubya. Single-mindedness is key, and Georgie has that in spades.

Pistols at Dawn - Bush, probably because Dan would run away and most likely trip and fall in the dirt.

Fencing - Quayle, because I think he has a touch of flamboyance that would suit this sport well and I think he is probably very light on his toes.

Kick Boxing - I'd predict a draw.

Judo (or other martial art) - Bush. In fact, I'd wager that George could split timber (and possibly concrete blocks) with his forehead.

Oration Contests - Like kick boxing, I predict a tie. I mean, who could decide between:

"Republicans understand the importance of bondage between a mother and child."
- The Quaylster

and

"Too many OB-GYNs aren't able to practice their love with women all across this country."
- Dubya

Blog Scraping

I've had it with the blog scrapers. These people scrap (steal) the content of your blog, even if copyrighted - as mine is - and put in on their splogs for erectile dysfunction or casinos or other dubious ventures. It is the stolen content that gets people to these blogs and we don't get a cent of revenue. This practice is illegal.

It makes me wonder why I don't place ads for Viagra on my blog. I don't even have Google's AdSense, so it's not my thing, really. Sadly, SplogReporter is dead, so the best that you can do is flag the blog (if it belongs to Blogger), and hope that they can take it down.

Here is an example (and I refuse to provide the link to the thieves):

-ne The fact that Arthur Koestler has faded into relative obscurity, while contemporary authors, such as George Orwell, are well-known, has always baffled me. Some may remember that the Police used the title of Koestler's Ghost in the Machine for one of their albums.I had high hopes for David Cesarini's biography (Arthur Koestler: The Homeless Mind). While it does cover Koestler's life in detail (some of it excruciating), it renders Koestler as a sex-obsessed drunk and possibly a rapist. Edinburgh University moved his statue to a safer location, fearing vandals would deface it after having reading about Koestler's attitude to women.In hindsight, I regret not tallying the car crashes and the mistresses. It's probably the best book we will get on Koestler for a long time.Tags: Arthur Koestler, David Cesarini
link

tuxlallygggag Posted by interesting things at 11:46 PM

This was stolen, word-for-word, from my post (but they edited it down to only one paragraph). Sure, they provide a link back, but it is my content that brings people to their sites. I wish the web had a detonate or bomb button so I could blow up these blogs that are stinking up the web.

February 26, 1991

On this day in 1991, Tim Berners-Lee introduced the first graphical web browser, called WorldWideWeb. This is all great and, Lord knows, I appreciate the web immensely. My problem has always been with the letter W. How many times have we had to say double-u double-u double-u? This is one of the few times when I can see the wisdom of George W, when he says dubya, I mean, he has eliminated a whole syllable. Suddenly, my nine syllable utterance could be reduced to six, but I still can't bring myself to say it. A colleague simply says "world wide web" instead of the Ws. Damn the person who came up with this addressing nomenclature. This is a 3D map of the web, from http://www.opte.org/.

Peter Heater, Redux

I still wanted to believe, despite comments to the contrary on this post, that the notion of a Peter Heater was bizarre and rare. But, intrepid web searchers keep landing here in quest of "peter heater patterns" and "crocheted peter heater." Wow, dudes. It's true and I am wondering if I should be selling such patterns.

I am growing accustomed to the bizarre terms that bring people to this blog. All I have to do is use words like coprophagia and get a flood of traffic, especially if I couple the term with fetish or sex.

So, here is another review. It always makes me laugh:

china adult diaper ring
open slit diapers in china
best off the shelf adult diaper
females with bloody tampons
i'd rather pee in my adult diaper than use the toilet

See, crazy bodily function searches. And;

"second life" clitoris
nympho librarian
'Leather clad Bondage scene'
my sister hidden porn
masturbating with fish

Now, is that with fish, as in you invite a few fish friends over and watch each other, or is this using fish as an aid in the act? I did stumble upon my sister's porn collection once, and she was in it, so that scarred me for life.

WOMEN DISCUSS HOW FEMALE JANITORS GO INTO RESTROOMS WHILE MEN ARE USING THEM

Is that a fetish too?

fish dresses to ice skate in
fish that tastes like rubber
snack food shaped like a fish

Yup, the other more predictable fish searches, but I wonder why anyone would to find fish that tastes like rubber.

How to feather hair on the sides

There was a time when I could give you precise instructions, but those days are gone.

Oscars, Part 9

Oooooooh, the dead person part. I don't know most of these people but, of course, they ended with Heath Ledger.

And with that, I am going to bed... I tried to hang on longer, but I am tired and must get my beauty rest. Good night.

Oscars, Part 8

Renée Zellweger looks as if she has no eyes. What's with the perma-squint and the downcast look? She creeps me out.

Nicola Kidman looks like a mannequin. Seriously, she's all plasticy and yellow.

I don't understand Robert Boyle's white scarf. It makes him look a bit like Elvis in that famous come back concert, wherein he sweated a bit on each scarf and then gave the out to screaming ladies in the audience like it was manna from heaven. But, maybe Robert thinks he's about to pilot a plane somewhere.

I am attempting to determine my maximum stay up late time. I need a calculator...

Oscars, Part 7

Best Actress in a Leading Role: Quelle surprise! I didn't see that coming. Wow.

And another thing, when will the Academy recognize comedy? Serious films always win the major awards, to the detriment of some fine comedic performances. I can't think of any right now, but why are there no categories for comedy? I think they need to get on with that.

OK, so I forgot about the song from Once. I saw this film and really thought is was great, but Glen Hansard always looks pained when he sings (especially the chorus) and I worry that a coronary event is not too far off. He has the same beat-up guitar from the film. Cool.

Oscars, Part 6

Best Supporting Actress: I wonder when the Academy is going to stop using the word "actress." Is it not sexist, like the word poetess, or waitress, or stewardess? Anyway, Tilda Swinton looks more and more like a cross between Annie Lennox and David Bowie. Maybe it's partly because her dress makes her look like an android, or something.

OK, so we are three songs in out of five nominations, and I am not enjoying any of them. Why is movie music typically so bad?

Oscars, Part 5

OK, so tuxes with that shiny stripe down the leg are stupid. They are like classed up track pants. But, John Stewart's monologue was funny despite the pants, or maybe they helped?

Best Supporting Actor: Javier Bardem deserves this Oscar. His performance was fabulous and deeply disturbing. I wrote this post before it was announced that he won.

Oscars, Part 4

I have no idea if it's just me, but Hilary Swank seems to look a lot like Jamie Lee Curtis, but with bigger teeth. I have a craving for grapes... It's a good thing I have some.

Oscars, Part 3

I decided to skip the Barbara Walters special and now I discover that Regis Philbin is doing his red carpet thang. I have to say that Regis is a great name. I wish my parents had named me that. I am serious. If that isn't enough, his middle names are Francis Xavier. Astounding. What a lucky man.

A few observations:

- John Travolta's hair looks like a helmet.
- Laura Linney reminds me of Helen Hunt (but with a smaller forehead).
- Javier Bardem scares me, even when not in character and even without the worst haircut in movie history.
- Wow, I didn't realize that Daniel Day Lewis wears such serious earrings. I am not sold on them, though.
- 1 Billion people will be watching the Academy Awards, which is about 999,999,999 more than are reading this blog.

Oscars, Part 2

Speaking of noses - and I guess that I was subconsciously as I was looking at Jeanne Becker's face - Steve Carell has a big one. And, it just occurred to me that maybe that's why Jeanne is wearing a low cut gown? You know, to draw onlookers' eyes away from her nose?

Oscars, Part 1

Thank G-d I am unable to find the horrid red carpet show hosted by that walking corpse, Joan Rivers. She is not funny, and I cringe whenever she opens her mouth. But, it means that I am watching Ben (Benedict Martin Paul) Mulroney and Jeanne Becker, whom I usually call Jeanie Beeker. Jeanne is a lousy interviewer and what is clearly worse is that she is showing altogether far too much cleavage, and it's not even nice cleavage. I am all for cleavage, but it has go be good cleavage, and hers is not.

Benedict just congratulated George Clooney on his hair, but I have to say that mine hair is better. George has the same haircut my dad sported for half a century, so it can't really be that good.

The really irritating part about the whole red carpet phenomenon is the "who are you wearing?" thing. That is dumb.

Royal Bank Double Speak

I really wish the Royal Bank (or RBC) would have the guts to tell it like it is. In a recent piece of correspondence to me, some genius in the art of evasive writing wrote: "As of May 1, 2008, we will be changing the monthly fee for the RBC Signature No Limit Banking (TM) account to ..." What they really mean to say is that RBC will be increasing the fee.

What's more, the unlimited transactions the letter refers to are not at all unlimited. For example, there are strict limits listed in the first three items. After the two or three free transactions, a fee applies. I have no idea how that can be described as unlimited.

And then, they use some bizarre math to suggest that the savings could add up to $502.44 annually, but, to get those "savings", I would have to use American Express Travellers Cheques, rent a safety deposit box, obtain 12 bank drafts per annum, order cheques, get a specific RBC Visa card, etc. etc. In other words, the letter is full of half truths or pseudo lies.

But, I think all banks are guilty of such subterfuge. That's why they rake in obscene profits.

Hip Hop

I am tied up in an all-day meeting, so here is a song I heard about 500 times during a long weekend in Barry's Bay in 1988.

Just Say No!

Imagine paying for your groceries, and the cashier says: "we've experienced lots of shoplifting recently, so we are going to add 5% to your bill today to cover our losses." That sums up what the Songwriters Association of Canada wants to do in its proposal to add a $5 monthly fee to all internet subscribers' bills in Canada. In return, music file sharing on peer-to-peer networks would become legal. I say, no freakin' way!

I do not download music illegally and I fully support the music industry by purchasing compact discs from retailers such as HMV, Sunrise, Sonic Boom, Soundscapes, Penguin Music, etc. There is no way I am going to pay a penalty or a fee for something I do not do. It's bad enough that a levy has already been added to blank media (cassettes and various CD formats) under the false assumption that they are all being used for illegal copies of music. It's not comforting to know that when I back up some photos I am again giving money to the recording industry.

As I have said before, downloading music sucks. However, I do download some music legally from net labels and I have downloaded free tracks from artist websites. I do not participate in the sharing of music on peer-to-peer networks. This proposal will penalize me as well as those who don't even know how to download music, like most of the geriatrics in the country. Someone has to kill this proposal.

The recording industry shot itself in the foot as soon as it launched the CD format. The costs of producing CDs is, and always has been, less than the costs to produce vinyl records, but in a greedy frenzy, designed to increase profit margins, the Industry collectively hiked prices and alienated music buyers. If CDs were priced at $6.99 or $7.99, we might not have such a huge problem. Don't forget that in the United States the Federal Trade Commission investigated compact disc pricing and concluded that American consumers overpaid $480 million for music purchased between 1996 and 1999. Evidently, record labels exerted pressure on retail outlets to keep prices above a certain level.

I have already emailed the Songwriters Association of Canada to express my opinions. If you hate this idea as much as I do, why not send them an email as well? I am sure iTunes, etc. will have something to say about the loss of its entire Canadian market. Their address is: advocacy@songwriters.ca. Better yet, go to Ryerson University at 7:00 pm this evening to tell them what you think. A public forum is being held at Oakham House. Unfortunately, I cannot attend.

Let's squash this unfair idea before it spreads any further and before it infects other sectors. I can only imagine what's next:

$5 per month in compensation for file-sharing of TV programs;
$5 per month in compensation for file-sharing of feature films;
$5 per month in compensation for file-sharing of computer software;
$5 per month in compensation for file-sharing of porn films ...

etc etc etc ....

A Political Detour
"Bomb bomb bomb, bomb bomb Iran" - John McCain

The American presidential primaries are a fascinating spectacle. There is a part of me that sympathizes with a couple of Russian journalists who once said that the entire world should be permitted to vote for the president of the United States because the actions of the US government affect almost everyone in one way or other. That is very apparent in Canada, considering our deep personal, cultural, economic, and political ties. After all, the USA is our largest trading partner. Unfortunately, we also have Stephen Harper, who seems bent on becoming a puppet of the American President.

I am absolutely dumbfounded by John McCain. In case you missed it, he started to sing the line "Bomb bomb bomb, bomb bomb Iran" to the tune of the Beach Boys' Barbara Ann. Of course, that was last year. What I also recently learned is that he was singing a parody that had been written and performed by Vince Vance and the Valiants, who wrote the song in the midst of the Iran Hostage Crisis in 1979. Here are the lyrics:

Bomb bomb bomb, bomb bomb Iran.
Bomb bomb bomb, bomb bomb, bomb Iran!
Let's take a stand, bomb Iran.
Our country's got a feelin'.
Really hit the ceilin', bomb Iran.
Bomb bomb bomb, bomb Iran."
Gone to a mosque,
Gonna throw some rocks.
Tell the ayatollah,
Gonna put you in a box! and
bomb Iran. Bomb bomb bomb, bomb bomb, bomb Iran!
Our country's got a feelin'.
Really hit the ceilin', bomb Iran.
Bomb bomb bomb, bomb Iran.

Now, I can sympathize with this parody in light of the Iran Hostage Crisis. Sometimes, we need to show our anger, rattle some sabers, and show some solidarity.

This is one of the videos of John McCain breaking into song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hAzBxFaio1I

Of course, I immediately recalled Ronald Reagan's live microphone accident (August 11, 1984) where he announced that bombing of Russia would commence in five minutes. This summed up Reagan's sheer intolerance, misunderstanding, and total hatred of a political system that differed from the American system. No, I am not a fan of authoritarian governments and clearly the Soviet Union was not a model to be emulated. As we all know, Reagan presided over the largest peacetime military buildup in American history, a buildup directed at the former Soviet Union and its allies, rather than address the possibility of arms control. MAD (Mutually Assured Destruction) was mad.

Reagan also signed a drug enforcement act as part if his War on Drugs. I think we can conclude that the war on drugs has failed and has resulted in glaring racial disparities in prison populations, mostly because of the different sentences handed down for crack cocaine, a lower class drug used by mainly African Americans and other impoverished ethnic groups, and powdered cocaine, an upper class drug used mainly by white folks including George W. Bush. Yes, he refuses to deny that he has used it. But, I am getting sidetracked.

I was fully in support of the American action in Afghanistan, but the USA virtually quit Afghanistan to hunt Saddam Hussein and walked away from Osama bin Laden. The effect has been very clear in Canada, the nation that is currently in charge of military operations in the Kandahar region. With the US military more interested in Iraq, many Canadians understandably have a hard time distinguishing between Canada's NATO role in Afghanistan and the US war on terror. Our troops effectively freed-up American forces to move to Iraq, and so we have become part of the problem.

John McCain is on record as suggesting that he would not be opposed to American troops staying in Iraq for 100 years! His argument is that Americans would not object to such a deployment either. What they will object to, he argues, are casualties of war. It's clear that McCain, the Viet Nam veteran, is a war hawk. What I find even scarier are those who argue that McCain isn't "conservative enough." I can only hope that the American public will not endorse a man who wants to take their nation into another pointless war that cannot be won. My choice, given the American political landscape, would be anybody but McCain...well, maybe that's going too far.

Addendum

As we all know, blogging about politics is no-win situation. You either attract comments from those who revile your political views and simply tell you that you have no idea what you are talking about (usually offering only dogma and unsupported opinions to counter what you have said) , or you receive congratulatory comments from those who accept everything you say with the hopes that a few of the undecided will be convinced to join your side of the ring.

This, of course, reminds me that Ethan Zuckerman advised us to resist homophily in social networks. I have read lots of right wing blogs and left wing blogs and I think that we are all guilty of promoting our opinions at the expense of impartiality. Such is the polarized landscape of the self-important amateur political blogger. My experience from previous political posts (especially this one) is that I had been surrounded by a few like-minded people (the homophilous, if you like) and our opponents (another homophilous group). In the end, I would describe the bloggers, the commenters, and our statements with such words as intransigent, intractable, recalcitrant, and belligerent.

Blogging has given me a new appreciation of the difficulties in writing without bias. So, the preceding is biased, but what can you expect from a Canadian who routinely votes for the NDP?

The Man in Black (and red)

I asked for and I received another picture of me, drawn by my daughter. Again, we have asymmetrical feet and even legs this time. I now have two-fingered claws on each hand with arms as disproportionately short as a Tyrannosaurus Rex :-) I like my rosy cheeks and my rose coloured glasses.

She has developed a new style of mouth, one that is off to the side and rendered in a cartoonish style. I really like that. The oddest thing is that she gave me a red belt. She said that she knows I wear a black belt (in truth, I don't generally wear belts), but she gave me a red one so it wouldn't look like I was wearing a suit.

I Hate it When Things are Broken

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Knight Rider

I just have to ask why? Of all of the second rate TV shows that could be made into a movie, why why why Knight Rider? It makes no sense.

A Video for a Saturday Evening

For some reason, I paid no attention to Bob Dylan until a couple of years ago. Well, I had a copy Highway 61 Revisited, but that was all. Now, I have have about 20 of his CDs, so it's safe to say that I was an immediate convert. This is a great clip of Subterranean Homesick Blues from the Biopic Don't Look Back. I love it.

Add it Up

Here are some interesting numbers:

2 - the number of times a car has hit me while cycling (both were slight brushes really).
3 - the number of times I have hit the pavement (once because of a reckless driver; the other two times because of clumsiness, or the rotation of the earth)
4 - number of bikes I have had since 1993.
7 - the number of flat tires I have had in the past 15 years.
10 - the number of consecutive winters I have cycled.
27.50 - the number of dollars I save weekly by not taking public transit.
30 - the time it takes me in minutes to cycle to work, including locking up the bike and walking to my office.
5,000 - the approximate number of kilometers I cycle per year.
50,000 - the approximate number of kilometers I have cycled in the past ten years.

Yet Another Hierarchical Officious Oracle

I am relieved that Yahoo has rejected Microsoft's takeover offer, but I realize that this may not be the end of it. I am often amused by the search engine battles on the web. Google gets most of the search traffic, with Microsoft, Yahoo, and others lagging behind. So, theoretically, a merger is a good way to catch up.

There must be a better way. Google's ambitious goal to index the entire web is an impossible one, and I would argue that it is a stupid goal as well. Searching Google certainly gets lots of results, but so much of it is garbage. The same is true with Yahoo and Microsoft's Live Search. What we really need is an intelligent search engine that can distinguish between searches that appear to be identical.

For example, if I am searching for Juno, I think the reply from the search engine should be:

Select what you are looking for from this list: the movie, the Japanese model, the Juno Awards, Juno Records ...

When you click one of the terms, the search engine should add some search terms and construct a proper Boolean search, like: juno and (movie or film or theatrical release or motion picture). Most people have no idea how to construct a nested Boolean search, and only Yahoo supports it on the web anyway, but there are advanced search techniques in Google than can give you the same results.

The problem with search engines is that huge numbers of results come back at you, and research has proven that most people look only at the first two pages: the rest is irrelevant. I think we ought to be looking at smaller, better engines, like the human-powered Mahalo. It's database is slowly being compiled by humans. Don't run out an Mahalo yourself, because you won't be there, but you can add yourself. You might be a little underwhelmed at search results but I think, in time, search engines like this might prevail over the giants.

Oh, and the real reason I don't want Microsoft to take over Yahoo, is because then the evil empire will own Flickr, and that would be bad news.

Juno


Juno is an awesome film with a stellar script written by ex-stripper Diablo Cody. My least favourite thing about the film is Jennifer Garner. I think she was fine in Alias, but I was not really impressed with her in this film. Of course, I was constantly reminded of Arrested Development, even though Jason Bateman and Michael Cera do not share a scene.

Some of the songs on the soundtrack have a quirkiness that reminded me of Daniel Johnston, and for a while, I wondered if this was intentional, coincidental, or just me. It's a short film, clocking in at 96 minutes, but the length seemed right.

There, that's the end of my lame film review.

The only other thing to report is that I have discovered that there is a Japanese bikini model called Juno, although sometimes she doesn't seem to wear a bikini at all, if you know what I mean. I accidentally discovered her while searching for information about the film. I considered giving you a link, but I am sure you can all figure out how to find it yourself.

Oh, and one other thing. It was really refreshing to see Jason Bateman doing his thing at the Grammys. It is often difficult to determine if comedic actors are truly funny, or if it's just the scripts. I was happy to see that he is genuinely funny and a pleasure to watch.

IceBike

I just cycled home in a blizzard.

Dexter, Feist, & Kate Bush

I have watched the first four episodes of Dexter and I have to say that I like it very much. It features Michael C. Hall (of Six Feet Under fame) who plays Dexter Morgan, a blood pattern analyst for the Miami Police Department. He is also a serial killer. So, Dexter is not your typical police procedural or forensics show. The show is based on Darkly Dreaming Dexter, a novel by Jeff Lindsay, a book I have never read and probably never will. Dexter will be broadcast on CBS & CTV, but will suffer at the hand of the censor.



I like reading letters to the editor, and very often I find one that irritates me. Usually, these are political letters from those whose views are antithetical to mine. I am sure we have all had those experiences. And then there are letters about culture or music, like a letter in yesterday's Toronto Star.

A certain Diane Walton wrote: "Hasn't anyone realized that perhaps Feist is a clone of the indomitable Kate Bush?" I wonder why she said "perhaps." Anyway, I disagree. If you are looking for Kate Bush clones, you need look no further than Tori Amos. She even looks like her. But, as Kim Hughes once said, Tori Amos is a poor man's Kate Bush. I couldn't agree more. Anyway, Feist and Kate Bush are miles and miles apart. I think that are very few artists like Bush because her music is eclectic, experimental, and maybe surreal.

The letter also has this statement: "Let it be know that [Kate Bush] set the stage for so many sound-alikes in the 1990s and the new millennium and should be getting the credit." Kate Bush released her fist album in 1978! And, only one album was released in the 1990s: the mediocre Red Shoes in 1993. Since then, we have had Aerial in 2005. In other words, most of Bush's music has been released prior to the 1990s.

I think that Kate Bush has influenced many artists, and I think that the most obvious musician would be Bjork (or even Joanna Newsom), even if the music doesn't really sound the same. And, I don't think we should expect musicians to state their influences, although most do freely and openly. I think that's enough credit.

Feist is a folkie and is closer to people like Cat Power than Kate Bush.

OK, time to eat.

Grammy Awards #7

As an illustration of just how out of touch I am with pop music, I will admit that I have no idea who Taylor Swift is ...brief interlude while I Google the women... See, that's just my point. It turns out that she's a country singer not a pop singer.

Amy Winehouse is on a roll, man. I have never understood the difference between record of the year and song of the year. She won both for the same song. Hmmm.

As is usual for awards shows, they drag on too long. I am going to skip the rest and go to bed.

Grammy Awards #6

Randomness:

1) Man, Kanye West is conceited.
2) Ah, Feist has such a good voice, and I enjoyed her arrangement for this eve's show.
3) As for the Foo Fighters, well, I was never a big fan. They seem so yesterday.
4) Alicia Keyes has some junk in her trunk.
5) Who cares about Country music?

Grammy Awards #5

OK, so I like John Paul Jones, but that brief calm musical interlude in the midst of Foo Fighter angst is completely out-of-place. It is jarring and silly.

Oh, man, the country music has been unleashed. "I'd like to check you for ticks"? Good god. If you think that was bad, how about this part:

Every time you take a sip
In this smoky atmosphere
You press that bottle to your lips
And I wish I was your beer
In the small there of your back
Your jeans are playing peekaboo
I'd like to see the other half of your butterfly tattoo.

It's so bad, it's smelly. I can't believe that's the best Brad Paisley could come up with.

Grammy Awards #4

I really wish Cher had done that X-Files episode, rather than that stand-in. It would have been so much better. That episode also features the best use of the Post-Seinfeld John O'Hurley.

Those short pants do not suit Beyoncé. What's worse is the song/intro for Tina Turner. It's frankly embarrassing. I also hate medleys.

Amy Winehouse wins Song of Year for Rehab. I have to say that I like that song. I even own the CD.

Grammy Awards #3

...and Let is Be is probably my least favourite Beatles tune. Or, it could be the Long and Ponderous Road. This gospel version of Let it Be is ridiculous. I think it takes itself far too seriously.

Although I felt that Feist should have won Best New Artist, Amy Winehouse is a good choice. I was surprised by how good her album is. I didn't expect that 50s kick and that really resonant voice.

Kanye West looks ridiculous. And, what a stupid Lyric: "You can be my black Kate Moss." I am not sure this lyric can be read as racist (as some have), just dumb.

But, Kanye is full of dumb lyrics, like this stinker: "You fixed me up something that was good for my soul / Famous homemade chicken soup, can I have another bowl?" It's so awesomely bad.

And, oh my god, Fergie cannot sing. I had never really paid attention to her before. It's painful.

Grammy Awards #2

Of course, there are rumours that Jacko the Wacko might show up. This in itself ought to have been enough to keep me away, but maybe it's the idea of a live TV appearance from a known loony that makes me want to keep watching. In the Toronto Star recently, I read a piece about how awesome Thriller is. That is so wrong. That album stinks - always has, always will.

Why is Tom Hanks there? But wait, he is talking about The Band, an amazing Canadian band. Now they are a good choice for that lifetime achievement award, but that lasted about 15 seconds. That's kinda of dumb.

Now, A Day in the Life is my favourite Beatles tune, but I am not sure about this disastrous stage event. It has nothing to do with the song, if you ask me. This looks more like the 1950s meets West Side Story and Cirque Du Soleil.

Grammy Awards #1

I hate the Grammy's and I never watch, but I have collapsed in front of the TV and lack the requisite strength to move or to change the channel (a very complicated thing to do, as I have the most bizarre "TV" setup I bet anyone has ever seen). Just like the Academy Awards, the Grammy's award mediocrity. There is absolutely no way that the awards given out tonight represent the best music of the prior year.

I caught the last of the red carpet show, enough to conclude that Cyndi Lauper looks like hell. But, I really think that Alicia Keyes has a nice voice. Of course, that reminds me of this:

I was thinking about Alicia Keys, couldn't keep from crying
When she was born in Hell's Kitchen, I was living down the line
I'm wondering where in the world Alicia Keys could be
I been looking for her even clear through Tennessee

Of course, everyone knows who sang that right? Uh oh, here comes Kerri Underwood. I guess it's time to get a snack

2:31 of Hilarity

This is why everyone should watch 30 Rock. It's the funniest show on TV right now.

"Tanned and Crazy"

I was hoping that the blizzard would close down the city so that I could have another day off, but everything settled down by this morning. Foiled again.

Anyway, I have French class this evening. I just read that my professor is "popular," according to a University survey. I can see that: he is funny but he speaks way too fast. On RateMyProfessors.com, someone even called him hot, though I find that hard to believe. Another description - "tanned and crazy" - I can live with. In fact, that might be the perfect description.

He has a thick Parisian accent and I imagine that he spends his evenings surrounded by red wine and female undergrads, but I could be wrong. Anyway, I am getting hungry and am now going to devote all of my mental energy to food.

Wednesday

I had no idea that today is Ash Wednesday, until I read about it elsewhere. Even though a friend's status on Facebook indicated he was having pancakes for dinner on Tuesday, I didn't clue in. Clearly, I am not religious. But, I did a quick search to remind me of what it is all about, aside from gorging on pancakes the day before.

So now I know: today is the first day of Lent, a liturgical and fasting period. I am reminded of a person I knew in my undergrad who gave up alcohol for Lent, and then got totally hammered 40 days later. This made absolutely no sense to me then or now. I mean, if we are truly speaking of self-denial, shouldn't the sacrifice be much greater than booze? I realize that one is expected to give up a vice, but I find the whole thing laughable. This is yet another reason why I think organized religion is a sham. The concept of the Pope and churches are perverse.

Years ago, I knew some people who followed the rule of "fasting" on Christmas Eve. This loosely translated into feasting on anything, provided it did not contain meat. So, there would always be apperatifs, fois gras, cheeses, lasagna or something else like it), lobster (or shrimp, etc), wine, champagne, rich desserts, coffee, liqueurs. I am fairly sure that is not what fasting is supposed to be, but the Catholic church has a far different interpretation.

But, back to Lent. According to some writings (which are most likely fiction), Mister Jesus spent some 40 days in the desert where he endured the temptations of Satan. Let me just say for the record that I would fail at this. I mean, who could resist Satan and all of his taunting?

___

I am taking another sick day, but I think I'll be back to work tomorrow.

Poor Me

I am sick today, so if you don't mind, I am going back to sleep now.

It Wasn't Me! Honest!

OK, so I just went into the bathroom at work and had to hold my nose at the stench. I'm not passing any judgments here, but, man oh man, someone really smelled that joint up. The trouble is that when I was washing my hands, another fellow came in and I realized that he thought that I was responsible for making the place smell like a sewage treatment plant.

I wanted to say that it wasn't me, but such a course of action might have reinforced his belief, so I didn't say anything. Of course, this has happened before, and I guess it is best not to say anything.

Speaking of smelling the place up, the Patriots did an excellent job of that. They stank. In an interesting piece of trivia, the last Super Bowl I watched was Super Bowl XXXI, in which the Patriots lost to the Packers.

Tyrannosaurus Rex


A recent picture from my daughter. Why is it that her drawings of dinosaurs are more accurate than her drawings of me?

Session Two

Today's session was fabulous, if I do day so myself, and I don't have to because lots of people told us so at the end. I am happy that it went well and happy that I can now relax.

When we proposed this session almost one year ago, we had no idea what it would look like at the end and if it would be a good session. Things came together nicely. I have to say that having so much lead time is both good and bad. One gets plenty of preparation time, that's true. But it really plays on your mind, when you don't have time to work on it or are, as is more likely, procrastinating.

Also, speaking twice at the same conference is probably not a good idea. Perhaps I will go to this conference as an observer next year, not as a speaker. Suddenly, I am very very hungry.

Session One

The bad news was that half of the panel got snowed-in and didn't make it to the conference. The good news is that the two remaining presenters (a colleague and I) did a great job of it without them. No one walked out, and there were questions after, and even applause.

I am presenting tomorrow with a another colleague on a far different and much more scintillating topic.

The Conference

Well, my first presentation is tomorrow. My second is on Saturday.

Ethan Zuckerman's talk today was truly fascinating. If you ever get the chance, listen to him. We have a lot to learn from him.

After his session, I took in Andrew Keen's rather intriguing interpretation of how the internet is killing our culture. He wrote the book The Cult of the Amateur. Since I haven't read the book, I will only say that I thought his ideas are worth thinking about. Perhaps I will have more to say if I can be motivated to read the book.

The Week in Review (and it's not even over yet)

1) I was misquoted in a student newspaper (again!).
2) I had 2 flat tires.
3) There is a hole in my tire, which explains the busted tubes.
4) The spare tubes I bought from the dude are the wrong size.
5) A pipe froze in the house and I am now awaiting the plumber. This will mean wall destruction and mess and probably lots of money. Plus, I will miss part of the conference. The good news is that it should not interfere with my presentations, I hope.
6) I bought a rear rack for my bike and found out that two screws are missing. Plus, I am not sure it will fit over my fenders.
7) I have decided not to post the gorilla dream/story.

A Barracuda plus Gorillas

I was once a top notch fisherboy. Here I am with the barracuda I caught in the Atlantic, just off the coast of Miami, Florida. It put up quite a fight, but I prevailed in the end.

OK, so on to gorillas. Wait...I have to run to a meeting now. I'll have to finish that story later. They were really dream gorillas, so it's probably not what you hoped for anyway.

Two Flat Tires plus Gorillas

Half way to work on Monday, I got a flat tire. A quarter of the way to work today, I got a flat tire. On my way back home yesterday, I stopped at a local bike repair shop that I really hate because they are way overpriced, but I asked anyway. They wanted $20 to change a tube! I said I would do it myself. Later, as I walked towards home, I passed the place I recently bought my bike, and they said they would charge me the price of the tube, since I bought it there. I saved $15.00.

I watched the guy inflate the old tube, to find out where the puncture occurred so that he could inspect the tire for any glass or sharps. Trouble was, he must have missed some, for I go another flat. The same thing happened to me about 10 years ago when I bought my last bike, expect that I got three flats in one week.

Man was that ever a boring story. If you think you were bored reading it, think how I must have felt writing it. I am suddenly feeling overcome with hunger, so the gorillas will have to wait.

Up the Hill Backwards plus Gorillas

No, this is not about the David Bowie song. It is from a dream in which I saw a series of odd images. I was cycling in my dream, somewhere out of town by a river decorated with hula hoops. Hoops were everywhere, half in the water, half out, seeming to float in perfect equilibrium.

Soon enough, I greeted a former colleague, the one with an obsession with a particular TV show, the one who could really pass for a lion tamer. I was not too surprised, then, to see him with dozens of hula hoops and a bike trailer filled with stuffed animals. He was a circus on a bike. I wondered if he was adding hula hoops to the water or removing them.

At this point, I realized that I was no longer in Tdot, but in the town of my birth, attempting to cycle up a steep hill, carved out years ago by glaciation, leaving a misfit stream, not the broad river of hoops. As I cycled up the hill, I noticed that there were two women on tricycles in front of me. They were cycling up the hill backwards on the sidewalk with great speed, without turning their heads to check their bearings. Both were dressed in white, kind of like togas, each with one small shriveled breast exposed (the left, if you care).

When they saw me coming, they darted across the road in tandem, not checking for cars, not worried about curbs, never slowing down. They reached the other side with no problems and kept on their way to wherever it was they were going. I decided to cycle to my dad's place, just up ahead and around the corner. Although my grandmother's house was first, I cycled past, hoping to reach my dad's, but I never got there before I woke up.
___

OK, so the gorilla part will have to wait. And, if you didn't see yesterday's post, this is hilarious. Keep on clicking next.

Oh help!" gaped Peter, "It's Mr. McGregor!"

I appreciate those who find sexual innuendo in everyday things.

Friday Feast (on a Saturday)

My first feast

Appetizer:
How many times per day do you usually laugh?

I have no idea. It depends who I am with and where I am. I rarely laugh at work.

Soup:
What do your sunglasses look like?

Black frames, curved lenses that wrap a little around my head. Depending on who you ask, they either make me look scary, like the Terminator, or cool.

Salad:
You win a free trip to anywhere on your continent, but you have to travel by train. Where do you go?

I'd like to take the train across Canada, through the Rocky Mountains.

Main Course:
Name one thing you consider a great quality about living in your town/city.

The amazing choice of ethnic restaurants.

Dessert:
If the sky could be another color, what color do you think would look best?

I'll agree with Running42K and say pale green.

Peter Heater

I guess that some memories are so deeply buried that they can never be recovered. Some long-forgotten memories come to the surface at unlikely times, like the other day, when I was eating lunch (some left over chicken curry that I had made), and I suddenly recalled a strange Christmas present my father once received from my aunt (my mom's brother's wife).

The adults in my family often exchanged gag gifts, probably because they are failures in the department of gift giving. It is far easier to choose something outlandish, than to risk giving something meaningful. There were a long line of such gifts: a t-shirt depicting a naked couple in a phone booth with the caption "your three minutes are up," an apron with a beer bottle opener attached to a fake penis, a ... maybe I should stop there.

One year, my aunt gave my father a "peter heater." If you are not in the know, this is sort of a sweater for one's penis. Imagine a woolen sheath, like a knitted condom, and you have it. There was no pouch for his pouch, by the way. Naturally, several things occurred to me, like, just why is he getting this gift from his sister-in-law? How did she know what size to buy? Maybe she made it? If so, how did she know what size to make it? I mean there is length and then there is girth.

Now, the real reason the gift was given is that everyone knew that my dad slept naked all of the time. The god news is that he did not model it for us. If he had, this memory would have remained buried forever and I would not be writing this post.

P.S. I am taking a PD day today, to do some PDish things.

I Can no Longer Tell Who is Crazy

I fondly remember the days when one could amble past a person speaking to themselves on the street and be certain, beyond any reasonable doubt, that said person was suffering from some sort of metal illnesses. I don't intend any disrespect to such folk. In fact, after so many years in Toronto, I am accustomed to the diversity of the population, which includes people talking to themselves in public. (Or, perhaps they are talking to God or the spirits or aliens? I am not sure).

I also became accustomed to that bag lady in the Annex, now long gone, The Penny Man near Bloor and Madison. You must remember his refrain: "even a penny will do." Where did he go? I also recall a rather articulate homeless man who hung out just west of Bloor and Spadina. I think his name was Giles? But, I am straying from my point.

The first time I saw someone walking down the street with some sort of wireless bluetooth headset linked to a cell phone, I thought he was crazy. Here we had a well-dressed man with a business suit, briefcase, nice hair cut (not as nice as mine, but nice), and he was muttering to himself, something about the stock market. And then I noticed a little ear piece and it all made sense to me. The old headsets were more obvious. A microphone wrapped partly around the face, and there could be no mistaking that it was connected to a cell phone. I still can't get used to these people on their bluetooth headsets because they look CRAZY!

Yesterday, I was confounded by a person at Spadina and Harbord. At first, I thought the woman was speaking to her god and then I thought, no, she must have a headset under her hat and then I thought, no way, she sounds loopy and then there was a bit of coherence. The longer she talked, the more confused I became. Is she or isn't she, I mused. Finally, she uttered the name of George Bush as a potential saviour of Canada - and, yes, I wondered which George she meant - but by that time I had my answer.

As I cycled away, it occurred to me that if we handed out fake bluetooth headsets to all of the self-talkers out there, maybe society would be more accepting of them?

No Time

In a sudden burst of energy, no doubt brought on by waves of panic and anxiety, I am wrapping up work on my two upcoming conference presentations. As I often said as an undergrad: "anxiety breeds excellence." Soon, I will have evidence to confirm or deny that statement. But, I will have to await the verdict of those who choose to attend my sessions. People exiting in droves might be a sign that things are going poorly, but dozens of people left during Cronenberg's film Crash, and I thought it was quite good, so you never know. The good news is that I have co-presenters, so that gives me an odd sense of calm amid the anxiety.

Heath Ledger is Dead

I just found out. A drug overdose - either intentional or accidental - is suspected. CNN. MSNBC. Oddly, I have never seen Brokeback Mountain.

Target Me

Forgive me if I appear dumb, but what's the big deal with targeted advertising? If you are a Facebook user, you will have heard the fuss about its targeted advertisement program. If you are a Gmail user, you will have noticed that the advertisements to the right of your email messages are linked to the content of your messages. I can tell you, in all honesty, that I have never once followed an advertising link from any advertisement in Gmail or in Facebook (well, except for that one fraudulent ad on Facebook that I reported to them). It doesn't take too much self-control to ignore ads on the web.

If you want my opinion, I prefer targeted ads. If I could configure the web to only display ads that I like or that advertise products or services that are of interest to me, then that would greatly improve my online experience. Why do I need to see ads for the new Celine Dion CD, since I hate her music passionately? You could place advertisements for Hamburger Helper on every page of the entire Internet and I would never follow the link and certainly not purchase the product.

The same goes for junk mail and TV. I would absolutely love to streamline the flyers that come to my house, so that I could avoid Pharma Plus, Shoppers Drug Mart, Payless Shoes, etc. Give me flyers for Future Shop and Best Buy, please, but none of that other garbage. This would make me happy. And, on TV, I would be happy to be done with all of those ads for Viagra and Depends. Maybe later, but not now.

I suppose those opposed to targeted ads are trying to defend the weak among us who give in to temptation far too easily. And, the privacy advocates are trying to prevent companies from using shopping data to compile profiles of our shopping habits on the basis that this is an invasion of privacy. Sure, I can see that, but I'd rather have my privacy invaded than endure an endless stream of ads for stuff I am not interested in.

Frankly, what I buy is not that interesting, and if Nikon wants to market to me because I own a Nikon camera, that's just fine with me. What we really need is a Do-Not-Call list that is enforceable. I hate it when they call at dinner.

Damn!

I have a new mouse, or rat. I could hear the little bastard scraping and chewing in the kitchen while I waited for the blasted football game to end. I don't hate football, but I don't like it wreaking havoc with TV schedules. And, I really didn't care who won. I'm just glad I didn't have to play in that weather. And now, I will catch the finale of the Amazing Race.

On Monday

Demain, je vais à Hamilton avec quelques collègues pour une conférence. J'ai loué une voiture at je serai au volant. Je reviendrai au travail de l'après-midi.

Water Dreams

In last night's dream, I was tasked with returning two ducks to the wild. At first, I walked with them waddling at my feet in a pleasant dog-like fashion, but then we approached water and I soon found myself attempting to paddle along side them until we reached a designated point. Since I lack webbed feet (really), I had a hard time, especially since I was wearing hiking boots. Once I deposited the ducks in a place they seemed happy with, I attempted to make my way back on land, except that the land was suddenly flooded and I was forced, once again, to make my way through an expanse of flooded plains, just like the previous night's dream.

In that one, I was walking with a friend, and we decided to cut across some back yards of various houses to get where we were going more quickly. Soon, we found ourselves ankle-deep, then knee-deep, then waist-deep, then shoulder-deep in cold water. I took my wallet out of my pocket, placed it in a plastic bag, and held it above my head. I took my companion's valuable documents as well. Once we realized that we were wading through back yard pools, we simply climbed out.

I have not checked a dream dictionary to see what this means, because I am a little afraid to.

Truck Nuts!

This is hilarious and partly weird, but I have to tell you about it, just in case you missed it. For some reason, a company called Truck Nuts is marketing nuts for your truck. They seem to also be called Bumper Nuts. You have to visit Truck Nuts for a visual. If the welcome image isn't enough for you, feel free to check out not one, but two galleries. Prices range from $24.95 to $45.00 for the brass ones. For only $22.00 more, you get a nut hanger, which doubles as a lock.

Of course, all of this is not without some fallout. Last year, Maryland Del. LeRoy E. Myers Jr. declared that he wanted to ban them. According to the Washington Post:

His bill would prohibit motorists from displaying anything resembling or depicting "anatomically correct" or "less than completely and opaquely covered" human or animal genitals, human buttocks or female breasts. The offense would carry a penalty.

Today, I learned that a Chesapeake lawmaker (Lionell Spruill) introduced a bill to ban them, but he has yet to find a co-sponsor.

I have two comments:

1) I am not sure I would hang them on my vehicle, but, I have to wonder what happened to these dudes' senses of humour. Are they going to try to ban male dogs next because one might get a glimpse of their testicles?

2) And, most importantly, why didn't I come up with the idea for Truck Nuts?

By the way, I am not in the library today. I am AWOL.

Wild and Woolly (or, Tom Cruise is Nuts)

Of course, we already know that Tom Cruise is nuts, but here is more proof. Mind you, it is a bit of a challenge sitting through several minutes of nearly incomprehensible ramblings from Mr. Cruise, but if you give it a try, you'll quickly see that the rumours are true: he's not all there. So, have a look at this video that the Cult of Scientology is trying to suppress, presumably because it makes the Cult and Cruise look like idiots.

It's too bad, really, because he showed such promise in Risky Business. I thought he was a man's man, a real football kind of guy who likes music and women. It's so depressing to recognize that the guy is a flake. Damn you Mimi Rogers for introducing Tom to the Cult! And then there are the other famous Scientologists.

I understand why John Travolta made leap to the cult: after being forced to play Vinnie Bobarino for so long, you'd need some sort of religion. And, his career has been beset with such ups and downs, it must have weakened him severely. You could make the same argument about Kirstie Alley, what with the rapid weight gain and all.

I don't consider Katie Holmes to be a true Scientologist: she's more like a hostage.

I have to confess that I am truly surprised that Beck, one of my favourite musicians, is a Scientologist. There's no explanation for that. Thankfully, Jerry Seinfeld saw the light and escaped before any damage was done.

Someone needs to organize an intervention to deprogram Tom Cruise and free Katie. I'll help.

Clone this! and a Giant Rodent

Would you eat cloned meat or drink milk from a cloned animal?

I would not, but the FDA thinks it's OK. They see absolutely no difference between conventionally- reproduced animals and those made from ear cells. What's worse is that the FDA will not require that cloned products be labelled, just like genetically-modified foods. I think this is wrong. All of this means that if you want to avoid Frankenfoods, you have to stick with organic products. I am having fond memories of when food was food.

If that is depressing to you, then this should make you smile. The fossilized skull of a one ton rodent has been found in Uruguay. It was as large as a bull. It has been named Josephoartigasia monesi, or freakin' big rodent!

Messenger

OK, so I can't believe that no one had anything to say yesterday about my point that Messenger (MErcury Surface, Space ENvironment, GEochemistry, and Ranging) arrived at Mercury yesterday. It has been 33 years since Mariner 10 arrived there on March 29, 1974. Until Messenger's arrival, it was the only spacecraft to have made the voyage. Messenger will make three flybys, and then be parked in orbit on March 18, 2011. In 2013, the European Space Agency will launch a mission to Mercury, due to arrive in 2019.

Oh, well, I guess no one is interested in this after all :-(

Random Stuff

Did you know that queen termites and sharks can live for 100 years?

From Reuters: "A Polish man got the shock of his life when he visited a brothel and spotted his wife among the establishment's employees. Polish tabloid Super Express said the woman had been making some extra money on the side while telling her husband she worked at a store in a nearby town." Makes you wonder what she thought when she saw him walk in.

I am elated that Jennifer is gone from the Amazing Race. Man, she is a piece of work.

Messenger arrives at Mercury today.

And now, I have to work on an upcoming presentation. I am behind and need to get in gear.

Sunday Morning



From one of my favourite bands of all time. Happy Sunday morning.

Cub

I am not sure how long this link will work, but check it out if you want to see a Polar bear cub sleeping, and snoring. It's very cute until he wakes up hungry, and then the screaming starts. It's from the Toronto Star.

Update: There's a story about the cub here.

On Giants

While leafing through The Book of Days: Oddities and Curiosities in the 365 Days of the Calendar, by Elizabeth and Gerald Donaldson (New York: A&W Publishers, 1979), I came across this statement for January 11th:

A human-like skeleton was found in 1613 entombed eighteen feet below the surface of a spot later called the Giant's Field in France. It measured twenty-five and one-half feet long and ten feet wide at the shoulders.

I wanted to believe this was true, so I did a quick web search and found a similar story, posted on Futility Closet:

January 11, 1613, some masons digging near the ruins of a castle in Dauphiné, in a field which (by tradition) had long been called the giant's field, at the depth of eighteen feet discovered a brick tomb thirty feet long, twelve feet wide, and eight feet high, on which was a gray stone, with the words Theutobochus Rex cut thereon; when the tomb was opened, they found a human skeleton entire, twenty-five feet and a half long, ten feet wide across the shoulders, and five feet deep from the breast-bone to the back, his teeth were each about the size of an ox's foot, and his shin bone measured four feet.

– Kirby's Wonderful and Scientific Museum, 1803

And then, I found this, from Anomalies and Curiosities of Medicine (by George M. Gould and Walter L. Pyle):

Near Mezarino in Sicily in 1516 there was found the skeleton of a giant whose height was at least 30 feet; his head was the size of a hogshead, and each tooth weighed 5 ounces; and in 1548 and in 1550 there were others found of the height of 30 feet.

There are other stories too of huge skeletons, lending credence to stories of Bigfeet or giants. Gould and Walter suggest, as others do, that the remains were misidentified and were probably mastodons or elephants, and possibly whales. What disappointment. I really wanted to believe this :-(

I guess this all makes sense when you consider that dinosaurs weren't really "discovered" until the 1840s, though fossils had been found before that. Humans from hundreds of years ago must really have wondered what animal these giants bones were from and, of course, they probably assumed a human-like being.

I like the idea that giants once roamed around, but I guess that didn't happen. Happy January 11th.

10

10 posts in 10 days must be a record for me. So, in honour of this occasion, here is a list of the first ten things that came to mind when I thought of the number 10:

10 - Bo Derek was never a 10 (or an 11) in my book, but, just in case you are interested, I am a 10.

The Metric System - Ah, the simplicity of having everything based on tens. Too bad the USA is anti-metric.

Binary - Where 10 is 2 (and 111 is 7 and 10101 is 21...)

Powers of 10 - A film from 1977 that explores everything from the microscope to the cosmos. The Simpsons did a great riff on this in a couch sequence.

Letterman's Top Ten Lists - Sometimes hilarious and sometimes not so.

Number 10 Downing Street - Gordon Brown is such a boring name.

Ten New Songs - Not my favourite Leonard Cohen album, but still awesome. Leonard is a lyrical genius.

10 - The number 10, which follows 9 and precedes 11.

10 Commandments - Is it just me, or are some of these ridiculous?, especially: "For six days you shall labour and do all your work." Six days! I am agitating for a four day week.

Warp 10 - The unattainable maximum speed in the Star Trek Universe.

Did I miss anything?

The Internet is Destroying my Brain, etc.

Why should I bother to remember anything, if I can simply look it up? I remember how to tie my shoes, use a fork, and walk, but my brain is leeching terabytes of data. I could blame this on the aging process or maybe too much alcohol as a teenager, but I really think something else is to blame.

I am rarely away from the web for longer than a couple of hours. Everything I need is on the web (or in my library's collection of licensed databases). I can just look it up. I think I am right.

In other news, January 9 is Play God Day. I don't make this stuff up and I have no idea who does, but I am quite pleased that today is Play God Day. I just have no idea how to play God. If you have any ideas, please let me know.

In other other news, I give the first episode of jPod a B-. It suffered from the usual first episode deficiencies, by trying to do too much. Douglas Coupland's cleverness is apparent, but, for some reason, I am really tired of him, and his novels keep getting worse and worse. As for Alan Thicke, well, I am not sure what to say. He's always been too straight, or something, and now he is playing the opposite and I am unconvinced. This show will not make my must watch category, but I might tune in from time-to-time.

Yesterday's Propositions

Proposition Number One: At the bike shop, I added the numbers the repair dude threw at me. It added up to a lot of dough. He had a proposition: buy a new bike, as it will be not much more expensive than repairing the old. Out with the old; in with the new. Indeed, he had a sale, and as I did more math I came to the conclusion that he was right, especially since the bike in question was more than 30% off.

My bike is now ten years old and is showing its age. I have replaced the entire drive train 4 times and it needs that done again plus a new rear wheel, new bearings in the front axle, brakes, cables, tires... In fact, only the frame is still good. The salt and winter weather really kill bikes. I could take a course in bike repair, or invest in some good books, and attempt to repair the old bike. On the downside, it was slightly more money than the repair, especially with new fenders.

In the end, I did what Running42K did, and bought a new bike.

Proposition Number Two: My phone rang just as I left the shop and I found myself speaking to a dude from a certain University asking me if I would like to give $$$ (250, in fact) to them. The money was to be used specifically for the library. What's more, the University will double that $250. So, I would be giving the library $500 so it is sort of like a sale in reverse. I have already given that University thousands of dollars in tuition and I had just dropped some cash on a new ride, so I said nyet. Some day, when I am feeling old and benevolent, munificent even, I may open the wallet. I have three alma maters (is that the correct plural?) so this is always a tough decision. But, I feel that one ought to give back to the institutions that gave me so much, but not right now.

Proposition Number Three: I heard a "hi baby" and then a hand on my arm as I walked my new bike to the curb, getting ready to saddle up for the first time. I was eager to get her back to the house and look at her in familiar light, maybe get out my wrenches to remove the toe clips, gently fasten my bell to her handle bars, attach my headlight holder, and wonder if it is too soon to ride her in winter. It might be pushing her too much. The rain had started and I worried that she would get wet and start to rust. My mind was filled with these thoughts when I felt someone touch me.

I turned to see the hand of a haggard woman reaching out for me. She carried a mild look of desperation in her eyes, from what I could tell anyway. I mean, no one looks good under sodium vapor street lights. It's just as bad as when the lights are turned on after last call and the bar keepers are trying to close up the shop. Some people are clearly alarmed when they look at the person they have been speaking with. This women (clearly a street walker, or perhaps someone critically short of cash) was offering me a good time. This is not something one gets offered every day, but this is not the best part of town, it seems.

A couple of months back, a crazy women showed me her underwear, not by lifting her skirt, but by holding them like some sort of placard. They looked clean enough with no visible markings, but I was not quite sure why she did this. Did she want me to purchase them? Who can say? And, I should point out that they were huge, like my mother wore or wears.

I declined two of the three propositions and, as that fat man - whom I once inadvertently called Batloaf - sang, two out of three ain't bad.

Mechanical Failures and Other Disappointments

1) My bike exploded this morning. Well, I suppose that is a little dramatic. It ceased to function as it should. The pedals rotate freely, moving the chain around, but it's as if there is no chain at all because there is no drive. I have no idea why this is. I had to walk my bike half the way in today. Twice, for a few meters, things reverted to normal and I could cycle, but then it all collapsed again and I was left cycling in one spot, my legs spinning madly, not moving forward, until I almost fell sideways. Thankfully, it was warm, but ...

2) I overdressed today, despite knowing the temperature. I had to remove one layer and my gloves lest I overheat. I had expected to coast down the hills - the cool air teasing my hair - overcome with memories of driving my dad's small British convertible down the rural highways to my summer evening class in American History during my undergrad. This was not to be. And, anyway ...

3) Aren't we all supposed to be wearing jet packs by now? Where is mine?

4) What's the point of spending an entire hour watching the Amazing Race if everyone gets to stay on the show? I am not happy about the non-elimination legs. I could have done something productive with that hour, like sleep. I don't usually watch this show, but I am making an exception this time.

Colds Suck

I think I have sneezed about 146 times today, and used an entire box of tissues, or so it seems. That blows. It sucks and blows.

Cliffhangers

I blame the soap opera Dallas for inventing the television cliffhanger. I could be wrong, but it was the first time I recall being left in the lurch all summer. It's not like I chose to watch Dallas. We had only one TV, and I was forced to watch whatever my parents watched. But, I am really not happy about cliffhangers, and now that I have finally seen all 22 Season One episodes of Jericho, I have to endure another cliffhanger. I also hate episodes that end with to be continued. That sucks big time. On the other hand, here is a really hilarious story that I know you will love. I must have laughed for 15 minutes straight the first time I heard it.

A man walks into a .... to be continued.

Saint Expeditus (My Real Patron Saint)

I know I said that my patron saint is Jerome (the patron saint of librarians), but I have found a more appropriate saint.

My quest for a better saint suggested several options. It could have been Augustine of Hippo, the patron saint of sore eyes, Wilgefortis, the patron saint of people seeking relief from tribulations, Sebaldus, invoked against cold weather and cold (the general state of my office), Rita of Cascia, the patron saint of lost or impossible causes, Saint Quentin, the patron saint of coughs and sneezes, Gertrude of Nivelles, invoked against mice and rats (but they are gone now from the house), or Christina the Astonishing, to protect me from insanity. I can't forget Veronica, the patron saint of photography. Surely, she has helped me.

But, I had to settle on Saint Expeditus, the patron saint against procrastination. Imagine being the patron saint invoked against an incurable affliction. His name seems strong enough to prod one on, to encourage anyone to get things done, but all I can do is laugh. Initially, I felt a tremendous urge to expedite all manner of things when I read the name Expeditus, but the hilarity of the name and the futility of attempting to correct this life-long disorder made me laugh.

All of this begs the question of what place, disorder, or occupation I should be named the patron saint. As you can see, the good ones are already taken (I knew someone I would nominate as the patron saint of flatulence), so perhaps I can hope to be chosen as the patron saint of cyclists. Of course, I would have to be canonized first, but that seems easy, given the way the Catholic Church hands out sainthoods. You'd think it was the Oscars. Oh, I suppose I would have to convert to Catholicism. That would painful.

It you will excuse me now, I am off to have a chat with Saint Expeditus.

My Patron Saint

I should have taken this week off from work. I mean, practically no one is here. I have a distinct lack of motivation because the place is deserted. Sure, there are things to be done, but I have no interest in doing them right now. I want to go home and sleep and warm up after my cold cycle in this morning. So, instead of working, I am writing this and listening to Acme Plus from the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion. I found this CD for only $5.99 at HMV. Amazing. I think I am contracting another cold. That sucks.

Did you know that Saint Jerome is the patron saint of librarians, archivists, translators and encyclopedists? I had no idea either. I am not sure why this is the case. In fact, check out some of his famous quotes:

"...though God can do all things He cannot raise up a virgin when once she has fallen..."

I think there is now surgery that will do the trick.

"I praise wedlock, I praise marriage, but it is because they give me virgins."

I am not sure that is true.

"Notice that it is good virgins who are spoken of, for there are bad ones as well."

I am beginning to wonder why he is my patron saint.

"Be not afraid that all will become virgins: virginity is a hard matter, and therefore rare, because it is hard..."

Probably true!

Monkey Crime/Monkey Prison

Did you know that there is a monkey prison in the Motibagh Bir Zoological Park in Patiala, India? Apparently, there is a monkey menace in India, and these violent, thieving primates are locked up, sometimes for life.

The Seattle Times reported:

Monkeys have invaded government ministries in New Delhi, ridden elevators and climbed along windowsills. Monkeys slapped students inside a girls school in a south Bengal suburb. A gang of monkeys in the city of Chandigarh ripped up lawns, broke flowerpots and yanked sheets off beds.

Some monkeys, mostly loners, have bitten people, injuring and even killing small children.

The good news is that killing monkeys in India is forbidden, so the country has resorted to a prison. I am not sure if this prison provides any hope of deterrence or rehabilitation (although some monkeys have been released for good behavior), but retribution would seem to be covered.

I am also not sure if there is any sort of legal process, or if these primates are considered guilty without trial after being arrested. Yes, they are arrested. I wonder if there will be a movement for monkey rights, as there was recently in New Zealand. Should they be read Miranda-type rights when arrested?

Sadly, part of this problem might be the fault of humans. Some people believe that thieves have trained monkeys to steal and some monkeys have been trained as guards. Later, these monkeys are abandoned when they become violent.

Personally, I think the idea of a monkey prison is stupid. Surely, they ought to make an effort to rehabilitate these monkeys, rather than locking them up.

Happy New Year

to everyone. Again, I am making no resolutions. I am resolutely anti-resolution. I wish you well on your resolutions, however.