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.

Fractured, plus Jericho

Yes, I took the kids skating again today. No, I didn't not break any bones, and neither did the kids, thankfully. My mother, however, inadvertently went skating down her driveway and ended up with a broken hip. She is now resting in a hospital awaiting surgery for an artificial hip or steel pins. The course of action has yet to be determined.

Before the accident, she argued with her mother (with whom she lives) about who should venture out and retrieve the blue box from the curb. My mother prevailed. I wonder if she regrets winning that fight.

In other news, I think I hate my template.

In other other news, I have been on a Jericho bender. I downloaded all 22 season one episodes. I know I can watch full episodes on the official site, but that small video box is way too confining. I would happily have downloaded episodes with embedded commercials, but networks are far too conservative to embrace peer-to-peer technologies. Of course, online full episodes are important these days because many new TV programs require committed watching. For example, it's too late to start watching Heroes: you will have no idea what is going on if you start now, so you need a season and a half recap. Instead of the small box on the official website, networks ought to seed official versions in torrent tracker sites. I would like that.

Anyway, Jericho is pretty good. Despite some cheesy plot lines and some mediocre casting, the series has enough suspense and mystery to keep me interested. I have seen 12 episodes and am eager to see the rest, as well as season two, which commences in February. There is a risk of cancellation, but I am used to that since most shows I watch end up dead. The Family Guy managed to withstand two cancellations. It has nine lives. I hope Jericho can make it.

A curious thing about Jericho is the Morse Code used in the opening credits. I just realized that the code is different every time. The Wikipedia episode summary entries decipher each opening message.

By the way, I delete the episodes after viewing them.

Update:

Good news. It seems CBC is finally ready to seed one of its programs on peer-to-peer networks.

Skating

I took the kids skating this morning. I still have it. In other words, I can still skate. It's sort of like riding a bike, I guess. Never once did my ass hit the ice. Later, I made delicious cocoa with soy milk. It tasted great to me, and the kids complimented me on it.

Sadly, my x-mas break is passing very very quickly. This makes me sad.

Happy Holidays

Hi everyone. I had planned for this post to be my last post ever. You see, I purchased a ticket for Friday night's Super 7 lottery, with an estimated jackpot of $30,000,000. Now that we have cleared up the fraud issues (or so I hope), I felt comfortable enough to splurge on a ticket. Sadly, I did not win, not even a free ticket. So, you are stuck with me for a while longer. In truth, If I had won, I would probably have commenced a blog called "Lifestyles of the Stupidly Rich." I even had the idea to hire a professional comic book or graphic book illustrator to follow me around and draw heroic pictures of me in action. Sadly, this plan will have to be delayed.

Happy holidays to everyone. I am off to sing in my one horse open sleigh.

Scissors

Leonardo da Vinci invented scissors.

The Best of Zydeco Fish 2007 (see: best of 2006; 2005; 2004; 2003)

I guess it is late enough in the year for my annual best of, since I probably only have a few more posts in me for 2007. I have this overwhelming sense of failure as a blogger this year, which comes from the belief that I did not post very much this year. In fact, the stats say otherwise:

2007 - 125 (so far)
2006 - 58
2005 - 220
2004 - 107
2003 - 42

2007 was my second best year in terms of posts. Nothing can match the golden year of 2005, where I posted frequently and always had something obnoxious or funny to say. The highlight this year was that no one called me a twit. On the other hand, there was that ongoing event that I can't mention for fear it will start all over again.

So here it is:

1) The Boston Molasses Disaster and other Curiosities. I am not sure why I like this. I suppose it just holds together nicely as a post about curious things I had recently read about.

2) The Conference Review. About the Ontario Library Association Conference and a librarian feeding frenzy. I now regret that National Geographic wasn't there to cover it.

3) He'll Be Dead Soon. The topic that cannot be mentioned, but here it is anyway.

4) Today, I Killed a Mouse. Graphic cruelty to rodents.

5) Tube Quest. On a curious trip to a bike store for a new tube.

6) Getting Down in Second Life. Cyberorgies and anatomically-incorrect avatars.

7) Endings/Beginnings, part three. The ongoing history of my family.

8) Endings/Beginnings, part four. The ongoing history of my family, continued.

Keywords Mayhem, part 7

I guess it has been long enough since I have posted something like this. See previous entries: here, here, here, here, here, and here, if you want.

I am still fascinated by the keywords people use to find things, especially my blog. As a Librarian, I want to be able to reach out to some of these people and correct their search syntax; others, I just want to slap. So, here again are terms people used to get here. It makes me wonder what kind of a blog I really have...

sesame street hidden message - yup, there is one.
housewife must strip after lost bet - clearly, a search for legal precedents.
eating kidneys are they good for me - no! in fact, avoid all internal organs.
world record for longest belch (also: longest belch ever, guinness book) - my brother holds that record.
clothing that sucks stomach in - I think it's called a girdle.
britney spears in a thong bidini - that image does nothing for me.
walmart pick-up joint - for the desperate, perhaps, but I did blog about it.
nympho librarian - that one keeps coming up. If I ever meet one, I'll be sure to let you all know.
wild nympho librarian stories - I am sure they are all fiction, but you never know.
hairy breasts - male or female?
Princeton rub - again, about my brother.
rolex ad time travel conspiracy - what?
large nipples video - one man's fetish.
fart on demand - my school friend, Gordie.
writing about what fish look like (also: fish video game) - always lots of fish stuff.
sensuous banana eating contest (also: banana eating sexy) - sometimes a banana is just a banana.
Facebook enemies - we all have them, I think.
can i get herpes from a toilet seat? (also: std on toilet paper) - no you can't.
pussy shaped cake - someone loves cats.
ivanka trump-breasts - Yes, I believe she has breasts.
Anal beads[buying the stairway to heaven] - OK, so I just do not get the connection at all.
male thongs at zellers - that's where my dad buys his.
cold weather fractured penis - yikes, painful.
"natalie portman" pee - hmmm, the beginning of the bodily functions searches.
infantilism breast milk and diaper - I have never understood this.
extreme adult diapers - or this.
adult baby poop diapers - oh, man.
defecating on floors in public restrooms -gay - I like how this person used a - to remove the word gay from his/her search. In other words, s/he only wants the straight poop.
do the chinese poop on the street? - I'd think not.
8 year old feces smeared - what's with all this feces fascination?
wake up with gorgeous hair - I do, everyday.
spiderman speedo - Has movie marketing gone that far?
alice cooper i picked up my guitar to blast away the time someone in the next room said now turn that damn thing down - oh, yes, from Cooper's Teenage Lament '74. About my other brother.

OpenID Commenting

Well, this is very cool. Blogger has just enabled OpenID Commenting, which means that you can comment here using your blog URL from OpenID-enabled services. These include WordPress, Live Journal, and AOL Journals. You can read more about this here here.

I do have one question, however, and that is: what the hell is AOL Journals? I have never heard of this before. I have yet to comprehend why anyone even uses AOL for anything. I mean, there are so many other good ISPs and blogging sites out there. When I think of AOL, I think of landfill sites full of AOL disks sent to every resident on earth whether they wanted one or not.

OK, OK, so I went to AOL Journals to see what it was all about, and then I ended up following a link to AOL News (who knew there was such a thing as that? It sounds as dubious as Fox News), and then I found this story about a giant rat. Really, you have to look, if only for the photo. Go. Go now. Go Look. Please.

By the way, this is absolutely hilarious.

Let it Snow?

You know, I like a good snow storm, probably because it brings back fond memories of school bus cancellations, but I just spent 45 minutes clearing snow and now I am exhausted. So, I am dreaming of a green, or brown or grey Christmas - anything but white. Still, I do like a storm. ..

I am also hungry too and there is a paucity of snack foods. I wonder if I should cycle tomorrow.

No Country for Old Men

For the first time in months, I finally saw a film at the theatre, the Varsity, if you are interested. Last night, I took in No Country for Old Men, a thoroughly enjoyable violent romp through parts of Texas, complete with a brief appearance by Woody Harrelson. I have no idea what this dude has been up to - oh, yeah, he has been promoting hemp. I thought he must have given up acting for good, but here he is, in a 10 gallon hat doing is best Texan accent.

Yup, there sure is a lot of shootin' in this one. Most people would never have recovered from such wounds, but, in some films, like this and Rambo: First Blood, you can simply sew yourself up. With the right tools, why you can remove gun shot from your shoulder or thigh. For the more serious wounds, however, a trip to a Mexican hospital is the way to go.

I am almost not sure what to say about the film, except that it is grim, but Mister Anchovy said it better: "The world is grim. Life is a coin toss. Most of the characters in the film get killed. You might as well retire, like the Sheriff, because there's no point trying to stem the tide." That's just about it.

There is almost a complete lack of music in this movie, except for the final credits and the short scene with some Mexican musicians. There is no original score. I am not so sure that the absence of music is a bad thing. Many movies today have way too much music, and some feel more like advertisements for music or extended music videos. Maybe because of the absence of music, I paid far more attention to the sound.

Despite being grim and violent, this movie is extremely well-made, with top shelf acting, and a remarkably good screenplay. I felt completely engrossed and did not check my watch once (not that I wear one currently).

PS: I am trying out Blogger's new poll feature. Check it out on the right nave bar.

Food Meme

From Running42K who got it from Andrew who go it from Electronic Cerebrectomy who got it from Byzantium's Shores.

This'll be weird, since I can't eat gluten and I don't eat dairy products.

1. How do you like your eggs?
Over easy or scrambled with bacon. It depends on many things, like the weather, the time of year, and what I am wearing.

2. How do you take your coffee/tea?
Coffee: decaf, black or with a splash of soy milk. I drink Typhoo decaf tea with some soy milk.

3. Favorite breakfast food?
Gluten-free waffles or pancakes with bacon. But, mostly I eat rice cakes with various toppings, like jam, honey, nut butters (not peanut), etc.

4. Peanut butter - smooth or crunchy?
I don't eat it, but when I did, it had to be crunchy. I prefer cashew or almond butter.

5. What kind of dressing on your salad?
Balsamic vinaigrette.

6. Coke or Pepsi?
Neither. In fact, no pop at all, except for maybe one glass of ginger ale every year or two. Well, I might have a rum and coke once a year, or so.

7. You’re feeling lazy, what do you make?
Rice pasta with sauce from a jar.

8. You’re feeling really lazy. What kind of pizza do you order?
Sadly, I cannot eat pizza. When I did, it was always bacon & pineapple. So, the equivalent would be to order in Thai or Indian food, but I can no longer order from the usual Thai food place, because I found out that it is not gluten-free after years of them telling me it was.

9. You feel like cooking. What do you make?
Recently, I've been hopping on the web to try new recipes, rather than reverting to the old standards. I recently made some very hot golden chicken curry and some strange chicken dish with tamari (gluten-free) and almonds.

10. Do any foods bring back good memories?
Roast chicken (or roast beef or roast pork).

11. Do any foods bring back bad memories?
I think I can no longer eat any of the foods that would have brought back the bad memories. But, I would say anything cooked by my mother or the pizza from my home town.

12. Do any foods remind you of someone?
Yes.

13. Is there a food you refuse to eat?
I refuse to eat dairy products (milk, cheese, cream, etc). I am forced to avoid gluten as I have Celiac Disease, which I have mentioned before on this blog. Beyond that, I would refuse internal organs (liver, kidneys, tripe, brains, etc.). I am not a fan of lobster. To me, it just tastes like rubber.

14. What was your favorite food as a child?
Ice cream, creamed corn, cereal - but not at the same time.

15. Is there a food that you hated as a child but now like?
Sweet potatoes.

16. Is there a food that you liked as a child but now hate?
Well, milk. It is a vile and disgusting substance.

17. Favorite fruit and vegetable:
Can't choose just one...
Fruit: mangos, bananas, raspberries. Vegetables: sweet potatoes, butternut squash.

18. Favorite junk food:
Lays Lightly Salted!

19. Favorite between meal snack:
Fruit.

20. Do you have any weird food habits?
I like bananas on rice cakes with almond or cashew butter.

21. You’re on a diet. What food(s) do you fill up on?
I have never been on a diet. I have pretty much weighed the same my entire adult life. I have never felt the need to fill up on anything, and I wouldn't even know what is a good thing to fill up on. I suppose I would say a banana.

22. You’re off your diet. Now what would you like?
Sorbet or dark chocolate.

23. How spicy do you order Indian/Thai?
Medium to hot.

24. Can I get you a drink?
Red wine please. Oh, you mean non-alcoholic? Well, water or apple cider.

25. Red wine or white?
See #24, but I like white too.

26. Favorite dessert?
Lemon sorbet from this cool place in T-Dot. Also, I like Haagen Daz Mango sorbet.

Perplexing Things

#1) The French Department where I just took my French course prohibits the awarding of grades higher than an A, which means I will get an A, according to the instructor. This is ridiculous. If you achieve an A+, you ought to get an A+. This A will bring down my GPA.

#2) My mother sent me a bizarre birthday card that defies explanation. First, on the return address label, she blacked out her middle initial. It's perplexing that she just doesn't get new labels. I know that she hates her middle name, and I can understand that, but simply knowing that her middle name commences with an M does not mean that people will know what her middle name is! One can also see that she has scribbled over the M anyway. So, she is just drawing attention to the fact that there is something wrong on the label. If you ask me, her middle name is better than her first name. This is a sign.

#3) Inside the envelope were coupons for various things, like batteries, etc. I will not use any of these coupons. The most amazing thing is that none of the coupons is expired, as is usually the case.

#4) Inside the envelope was an out-of-focus and badly-composed photograph of some roses her mother received for her 80th birthday in November of 1999. On the back, she printed: "NOV 99 MOTHERS [sic] ROSES FOR BIRTHDAY 80TH". The photo clearly depicts the atrocity that is my grandmother's kitchen, from the heinous wall paper to the nausea-inducing tablecloth. It is perplexing to me that my grandmother has not redecorated in over 25 years of ownership.

#5) Inside the envelope was a folded over piece of paper containing a stamp affixed with glue. My mother scribbled that she wanted me to see this stamp with a pig on it. It's must be from a series of stamps depicting Chinese Astrological signs. I am not a pig. The paper the stamp is affixed to is from a tax receipt from March 28, 2004 which indicates that she gave $20 to the church for the first quarter of the year.

#6) Inside the envelope was half of a birthday card. She simply cut the front off an old card, presumably because the other part had writing on it. She edited the Happy Birthday line on the front by inserting, the word BELATED with a ^ and then wrote my name below. On the back she wrote: "Here is the 1/2 card; Hope you had a Happy Birthday. The check is whole." Why "the" half card?

#7) The cheque was for $30. Also included was a cheque from my grandmother for $20. My grandmother sends hers along in the same envelope to save on postage and greeting cards. My grandmother has given me the same amount for Christmas and my birthday since the day I was born. Inflation means nothing to her. When my first daughter was born, she gave me $5. The Italian lady that lived next door and who could barely speak English - and whom I saw a handful of times in my life - gave me $20. That is perplexing.

Help is on the way!

From the spam files:

Small male machine is not a trouble.

You Dont please with your instrument size.

Chicks laugh at you.

You have marvelous chance to solve this trouble.

Try our instrument e;nlargement and Women will adore you promptly.

I used. My wife is really happy.

Thank you, Dr. Kenny Hackett. I have to say that your name doesn't inspire much hope that this product will work.

Les Chaussures de Zydeco Fish

Some visual stimulation for your Wednesday. Size 9. Imitation Converse, purchased on Yonge Street about 15 years ago. Probably made in China. The only reason they are still in one piece, is that I rarely wore them outside because the soles are so thin, I could feel every pebble underfoot.

Endings/Beginnings, part four (see parts one and two and three)

Some of you will remember the short piece I wrote about one of my brothers a couple of years ago. It is difficult to add to that, but I could begin with the fact that he is now collecting a disability pension and doing some under-the-table taxi dispatching work. He has unpaid bills all over town, but people are still civil to him. After all, he is a celebrity, if a minor one. How many people can say that they know a man who weighs 400 pounds?

The most amazing thing about my brother is that he is still alive. He should be dead. Somehow, his body remembers to function. His heart still goes and his lungs, battered by thousands of cigarettes, still work. He continues to use the cane, but now he has a reason. In high school, he walked with one frequently, arguing that it relived the pain of ambulating with hemorrhoids. His wife, the one he married after the mother of his children was imprisoned and the kids swept away into foster care (it never crossed his mind to take them in and be a father to them) has been placed in long term care with early-onset Alzheimer's. She is in her fifties.

I suppose I should point put that she is much older than he. If you ask me, his attraction to this woman was based solely on the fact that she had daughters that were nearly his age. It was another thing that made him freakish, another thing for people to talk about behind his back. He had no other way of making any sort of impact, so he went for freakish acts, like force-feeding himself into obesity and, if he can manage it, an early death. Some day, he will be found prostate on the ground in his motel room, a half-eaten doughnut protruding from his mouth.

Yes, I see a bad end for my brother, but I believe that he hopes he will look down on his enormous body from above, just as we normal people believe that one day we might observe our own funerals, and delight in the fact that he lived out his childhood fantasy and become the man in the wicker chair.

Birthday

So, I celebrated my birthday on Sunday by shoveling tons of very heavy snow and coming to the realization that I am older than I once was.

AllDayMeeting

I am stuck in a boardroom all day :-(
At least I am not at work.

Some Interesting Pope Trivia

While browsing the Wikipedia, I came across this fascinating piece of trivia:

Popes who died during sex

Main article: List of sexually active popes

Catholic Popes who were said to have died during sex: Pope Leo VII (936–939) died of a heart attack, Pope John XII (955–964) was bludgeoned to death by the husband of the woman he was with at the time, Pope John XIII (965–972) was also murdered by a jealous husband.

Fascinating indeed.

A (brief) conversation with my Six-year-old Daughter

Daughter: Most grandmas tend to be Portuguese.

Me: Is your grandma Portuguese?

Daughter: No...well, if I had another grandma, maybe she would be Portuguese.

Tagged

I was tagged back in June by Running42k (my old roommate from my undergrad days). Finally, I have answers. I am supposed to write about 8 facts about myself, then tag 8 others.

1. I hate unexpected loud noises. For example, if I plug in the vacuum cleaner and it fires up immediately - because the switch had been left on - I have to turn it off even if it means that I will turn it on again in a few seconds. I have to be ready. I need to know if anyone in earshot is going to turn on a blender or a food processor or hair dryer so I can be prepared. I also hate leaf blowers, but you already know that. If you have one, dump it and buy a rake. Better yet, mulch your leaves with your lawnmower (but warn me before you start up your mower) and then leave the leaves on your lawn all winter so that they make some nice fertilizer. That's why they are called leaves, after all.

2. I have a tendency to count stairs as I walk up or down them, even if I know how many there are.

3. I have only ever sent one text message on my cell phone. I just don't understand the appeal. Maybe that's because I am tethered to a computer for most of the day.

4. I like mayonnaise on my french fries. In fact, I am not a fan of ketchup or catsup or catchup. Speaking of condiments, I prefer to have my salad dressing on the side in restaurants because they always apply too much. Salads are usually soaking in the stuff, making most of them practically inedible.

5. I like my job. It's the best job I have ever had. I hated my last job. It was the worst job I have ever had.

6. I am a huge fan of dark chocolate (dairy-free, that is). If you have no idea what to get me for Christmas, please mail me some Lindt dark chocolate. My birthday is coming up too.

7. My favourite cuisine in Indian. I couldn't live without it. Aside from naan, it is virtually gluten-free, which makes it even more indispensable.

8. I'd like to go to Greece and the International Space Station.

I have no idea whom I should tag, so I will tag everybody.

Technorati Tags: memes, me

Chalked Up

Here's an action shot of my daughter drawing another painfully accurate picture of me, this time in chalk. The only problem is that she made my left foot preposterously large, rather than the right as in the previous effort. Notice, however, that I am still afflicted with three-fingered hands. I do like the sun and birds. Please note that I have no shirt or pants even approximating the colours suggested in this piece of sidewalk art.

Technorati Tags: me, daughter

Hi There

I wonder why it is that when I take a small break from blogging, it turns into a long hiatus? Just why is that? Anyway, I took a recent trip to the Niagara region (St. Catherines, Niagara Falls, Niagara-on-the-Lake, etc.). That was cool. I got a couple of bottles of wine and some jam and took in the Falls and the tackiness Clifton Hill. It's always a bizarre sight.

More recently, I headed up to the rural parts of Ontario for my dad's 75th birthday party. The old man is getting older. Aside from the potato overload, it was fine. If you are hosting a potluck, be sure to secure the proposed dishes ahead of time. Otherwise, you will end up with three versions of potato salad.

Other than that, I have been working and sleeping. I have a new article coming out which was co-written with a colleague. And, I have to speak twice at an upcoming conference, once with a colleague and once with a panel. No, I am not prepared yet, but I hope to be by then. The worst part is that one of the speaking days is a Saturday. I hate it when that happens, mostly because fewer people show up.

I am starving and really need some food.

Out-of-Town

I am heading out of town tomorrow. Good-bye.

Eating Glass & Other Dreams

OK, so once again, I had a dream in which I was eating glass. The dream focussed more on the after affects of eating glass, like trying to expel the endless stream of it from my mouth with as little damage as possible. To make matters slightly more complicated, I was spitting the stuff out while cycling and trying to keep up with the person ahead of me. This was not your average glass, but that fine thin glass one finds in expensive wine glasses, if that matters. I have had this dream many times over the years. Yes, I have looked at online dream sites, but I am not convinced of the interpretation.

Another curious dream featured David Gilmour (the musician, not the writer), who, while fulfilling his rock and roll duty as main guy in Pink Floyd was also a star member of Britain's National Football club. Aware that he was shunning the queen by not playing in a key match, he put on his guitar and joined Floyd on stage while wearing his football jersey & cleats. By the way, this was the younger long-haired Gilmour. I have no idea if Roger Waters was there or not.

Hmmm.....

Technorati Tags: dreams, glass, music

Cats & Rats

I was stunned to find that I had a mouse (or mice) in my house. After all, the neighbourhood is crawling with cats. One can't walk up the street without greeting several cats. One has to watch one's step so as not to crush them. Most are friendly and run out to say hi. Just yesterday, I ambled past two lovely kittens lounging on the pavement. Of course, as I am allergic to the little critters, I have no cats in the house, which is bad news when one has rodents. I have been tempted to borrow a cat or two, but I have always been wary of cat curfews and I wouldn't want to be charged with cat napping.

Anyway, I had been cursing these cats for not doing their catly duty of killing rodents in the 'hood. Perhaps I cursed too hard, for one day last week, I discovered a very dead rat on the back porch. The rat had quite a severe laceration to its pectoral region. It lacked a tail, making me consider that it might not have been a rat after all, but a closer look assured me that it was a rat, probably a Rattus norvegicus. Flies had descended in great numbers. I dug a hole in the back yard and scooped up the rat with a shovel, finding that maggots had already invaded the beast and were crawling all over the rodent.

This, of course, reminded me of the intact rat skeleton I once found under the porch of an old house. I left it alone.

I chose a new template in the hopes that it would encourage me to blog more.

Technorati Tags: cats, rats, rodents

Nuit Blanche

I went to Nuit Blanche this year, the Toronto version, not the event in Paris or Rome or Sao Paulo or Berlin or ... Yeah, this was the Toronto-the-Good version. One of the first events I saw -- well, really did not see, because it was too packed with people to see -- was an event at the House of Lancaster II. This is a strip club, for those who are no aware. I squeezed in, noting a number of strollers and baby carriages, which served as a good counterpoint to the usual business of the house. Some dude was on stage making balloon animals. It was too crowded to stay, and it didn't look that interesting.

Down on Queen Street, I ended up in Koma Designs and was surprised to see a bondage scene unfolding. A scantily clad woman was being bound in ropes and hung from the ceiling. I snapped a few photos, as well as a photo of the window, which featured a leather-clad woman in fetish boots and police cap. Later, a mass of people watched the Parkours near the Gladstone.

I think I was asleep by 4:15 AM, after a night of walking, cycling, looking, and photographing. It's hard to say what I liked best. Perhaps, as a friend said, the night was not so much about the art as the festivity, or something like that: I am paraphrasing wildly. I did enjoy seeing so many people on the street, and I enjoyed the out-door exhibits better than those indoors.

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