Friday Random Ten: a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma

I'm not cool, but I play one on TV.

And with that: musique, s'il vous plait!

1. "Black Swan" - Thom Yorke

2. "Joga" - Bjork

3. "Polaris" - Jimmy Eat World

4. "Swallowed in the Sea" - Coldplay

5. "Talking Bird" - Death Cab for Cutie

6. "Supermassive Black Hole" - Muse

7. "Winding Road" - Bonnie Sommerville (Garden State soundtrack)

8. "Such Great Heights" - Iron & Wine

9. "The Old Apartment" - Barenaked Ladies

10. "Your Eyes Open" - Keane

Bonus!:

11. "Skeleton Song" - Kate Nash

W00t! Kate Nash! Cheeky! More exclamation points, please!

VOTE

Do it.

Do it now.

Do it.

5... 4... 3... 2... 1...

DO IT!

Cake or Death?

moar funny pictures

The lede from the top story on CNN.com, as of 16:19 EST:

Less than 24 hours before the presidential election, Kevin Sheen has yet to decide who will get his vote.

"I'm actually still wrestling with moral issues," says the 29-year-old registered Democrat, who voted for George W. Bush in 2004.

Sheen is one of the 5 percent of American voters who are either undecided or could change their mind before Election Day.

I hate these people. How can you really be undecided at this point, after close to two years of damn near constant campaigning? Of five straight months of Obama v. McCain smackdown coverage all ofer the goddamn place? Of 2+ months of wall-to-wall news coverage since the end of the conventions? 

Jesus H. Christ on a popsicle stick, what more do you people want? Is it that you're simply incapable of committing? What terminal idiocy prevents you from making a decision? Is it like this when you go to Subway? Cold or toasted, man! Cold. Or. Toasted.

*sigh* Hopefully, only one more day of this shit, then we can rest up until the campaign for the 2010 mid-terms begins. In December.

Oh, yeah: Go vote tomorrow. Or you'll be an asshat. And you don't want to be an asshat, do you?

Friday Random Ten - Now With Sparkling Crystals!*

* - Sparkling Crystals not included

In a stunning fit of consistency (two weeks in a row? madness!), I offer unto you this week's FRT:

1. Liz Phair - "Dance of the Seven Veils"

2. Weezer - "My Name is Jonas"

3. Pixies - "Silver"

4. Pixies - "Alex Eifel"

5. Radiohead - "Videotape"

6. Coldplay - "Violet Hill"

7. Liz Phair - "Soap Star Joe"

8. Soul Coughing - "Soft Serve"

9. Elbow - "I've Got Your Number"

10. Bon Iver - "Team"

And the bonus track, FTW:

11. The Shins - "Caring is Creepy"

Ah, slightly better bonus track this week. Still not full of Win, but then, I'm not sure any of the music I listen to would be considered Teh Hawesome by the kids these days. 

Anyway: sparkly: (and multiple colons, too!):

Note: Couldn't find a decent video for "Caring is Creepy", so you'll just have to make do with "New Slang". I think you'll live.

Sweet. Tapdancing. Christ. (Arachnophobe edition)

No, srsly: SWEET. TAPDANCING. CHRIST.

Don't click that link. Really: just don't.

...

You clicked it, didn't you?

Don't say I didn't warn you. And, no, I will not tuck you in OR get you a glass of water. Especially from the kitchen sink! IF I got you water - and that's a big if, Mister Smartpants, since I told you not to click that link, didn't I? - you'd do with bathroom water.

No, they do not taste different! It's the same water!

Sheesh. Kids.

Friday Random Ten: The Return of a Great Idea, Ruthlessly Stolen from Other, Better Bloggers

Oh yeah. I'm all about the pithy titles.

So, Amanda over at Pandagon, who's much cooler than me (a fact which is consistently reflected in the music she listens to), has taken to doing the FRT with the new Genius function in iTunes. I'd do that, but apparently the Genius function only works for the music library on your computer, not on any iPod you might have hooked up to said computer. I'm at work, so I don't put a ton of music on my work box, preferring to listen to music from my iPod through iTunes. So: no Genius for you!

Anyway, my Friday Random Ten:

1. Silversun Pickups -- "Lazy Eye"

2. Muse -- "Assassin"

3. Death Cab for Cutie -- "Passenger Seat"

4. Ben Folds Five -- "Smoke"

5. Nick Drake -- "One of These Things First"

6. Pixies -- "Gouge Away"

7. Jimmy Eat World -- "Work"

8. Bjork -- "All is Full of Love"

9. Coldplay -- "Spies"

10. Weezer -- "Buddy Holly"

And... bonus track FTW!:

11. Elbow -- "Snooks"

Okay, Elbow's not really full of Win, but... look! Shiny!

Never gonna give you up

You know it's a weird day when you realize that you just Rickrolled yourself, in your own head.

Related: Yes, I do think in hyperlinks. Thanks for asking.

Also, from the TMI Department: I secretly kinda liked the Astley, back in the day. But, in my defense, I was 13.

No, you're right. I should have known better, even then.

my blog fail. let me show u it.

According to StatCounter, I've had 44 unique visits to my blog since I started tracking back in March. You know what that means!


moar funny pictures

Not that I'm going to do anything about it. Really, this post was just an excuse to do the LOLcat.

"I want the same milk. What happened to my old milk?"

I know I haven't posted in a long-ass time - no real excuse: just remember that I am a lazy sod - and this isn't to say that I'm going to be back at blogging, all guns blazing, any time soon. But I read this article today in the NYT (h/t: this post at DailyKos) and ... well, I don't know. Something about it set me off.

I mean, come on. It's a fucking milk jug redesign - one that, by all rights, reduces the overall environmental impact of milk delivery and consumption by a substantial margin, plus is economically more efficient than its antecedent. But - but- but - it's new! And different! And I can't figure out how to pour it, because I'm a fucking moron!

The jugs have no real spout, and their unorthodox shape makes consumers feel like novices at the simple task of pouring a glass of milk.

“I hate it,” said Lisa DeHoff, a cafe owner shopping in a Sam’s Club here.

“It spills everywhere,” said Amy Wise, a homemaker.

“It’s very hard for kids to pour,” said Lee Morris, who was shopping for her grandchildren.

Oh noes! Think of teh childrnz!

...

Yeah, I might be overreacting a bit, here.

But, like I said, something about the reactions in this article touched off something in me. For some reason, the reactions and attitudes captured in the article seem like the perfect microcosm of average America's inherent dislike of change, even beneficial change.

The title of the post, drawn directly from the linked NYT article, sums it up nicely, I think:

What happened to my old milk, indeed.

(Quick) Hit me with your rhythm stick

Look! Eighties parenthetical title! W00t!

And now: the Quick Hits.

---

Heard this morning on Marketplace's morning radio report, during a story on the business of selling trinkets and mementos for Chancellor Palpatine's Pope Benedict XVI's visit to Washington, DC:

In reference to the always-funny Pope-on-a-Rope, a woman in the gift shop of the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception: "I think that's disgusting. Why wash your body with the pope?"

To which I must respond: good gracious, why not?

---

It's official:


Created by OnePlusYou

I may need to lose some weight.

---

The Wife has something awful that she'd like to share with you (pay attention to the last paragraph). Because that's what the Internet is for, right?

But, really, dear: it'll be okay. Don't hang up your Chucks yet.

---

It's a week late and a benjamin short (ooh, clever! look, I'm teh r0x0rz!), but I finally figured out what began to bug me about Scalzi's last Big Idea entry (mentioned in my previous post). And it is thus:

John knowingly fed the troll.

Day is not a troll in the usual sense - or perhaps it's more accurate to say that he's an higher order of troll. Whatever, he gets his kicks and makes his monies by being a deliberate douche, and that's clear trollish behavior. I don't even care if Day really believes in his own claptrap or not - devotion to ideas or ideals doesn't make you any less of a douche.

It's been written to death by this point, but I'll say it again: it's John's blog, he can do whatever the fuck he wants with it, but... huh? I'm not bewildered by the post, but by the motivations for it, I guess. Someone as Intarweeb-savvy as Scalzi knows exactly what he's doing, so I'm left scratching my head as to why he decided to feed the troll.

Makes me wonder if we didn't all just catch John on a really bad day or something.

(h/t to this post by ertchin, which helped clarify my thinking)

You've just shit on your brain

Scalzi's opened up a can of worms over at the Whatever by featuring the author Vox Day (a pseudonym) in his ongoing Big Idea series. Day's latest offering, The Irrational Atheists, aims to take down the leading modern day thinkers of the atheist community by taking them on at their own game: namely, by using reason and the scientific method to refute their arguments against the existence of God. I haven't read the book, and I'm not planning to - Day freely admits to ad hominem attacks throughout this book, and I'm just not going to bother with that kind of nonsense when discussions surrounding the nature and existence of God are already rife with that spectacular brand of bullshit - but the comments thread at the Whatever for the Big Idea post featuring TIA (as the author acronyms it) has been a rollicking good read.

It's obviously gotten a bit testy, but for the most part the conversation has been spirited but civil. However, one of the most recent posters - pretty obviously an atheist - wrote one of the single-best put-downs of a belief in God I've ever read. (Full disclosure: I'm agnostic, leaning atheist):

The bottom line is that when you accept nonsense, and cherish it in your heart and make it an importat part of how you think and lead your life, you’ve just shit on your brain.

Now, that ain't nice... but it sure did make me giggle.

Probably the best blog post on the whole Spitzer mess

Presented without further comment.

Spam Spam Bacon Tomato and Spam

Found in my GMail spam folder this morning:

"I wanted to give someone a sexually transmitted disease (e.g., herpes, AIDS)."

That's probably the most disturbing piece of spam I've ever cast eyes upon. I'm assuming it's a unique take on the legion of "Grow your babymaker! Guaranteed!" spams I'm constantly cleaning out of my spam folder. I'm not going to open it up to check - I'm not sure I want to find out for sure.

I wish I'd had some coffee before I saw that.

There's something wrong with my pants

Friends, I give you the single-most brilliant thing I've evar found on teh Intarwebs (in the past five minutes):

Garfield... minus Garfield.



I loved Garfield when I was a kid - I got something like the first 20 collections through the Scholastic Book Club; sad, but true. However, Garfield lost its luster for me when I hit my teens and discovered the pure hawesome that was Bloom County.

This, however... if Jim Davis actually started doing Garfield like this, there'd be reason for me to read the funny pages again. It'd be the mother of all eff-you retcons, a kind of post-modern "and then I woke up."

But funny!

Hat tip: Scalzi Whateverettes.

On momentum and ambition, or Yikes! Politics!

I was talking with a co-worker today about the state of the primary race for the major party nominations for the presidential election here in the U.S. He and I are of similar political bent (pretty strongly Democratic), both support the same candidate (Obama), and our conversation quickly turned to the fate of Hillary Clinton, especially in light of the stunning 0-for-10 streak she's on, now that Obama pretty handily beat her in Wisonsin and Hawaii on Tuesday.

Momentum is a huge factor in the American presidential nomination process, and by any definition, Obama has decisively grabbed the momentum in the Democratic race from the establishment candidate and former heavy favorite. Losing streaks of this magnitude have killed off many a campaign in the past, and my co-worker wondered aloud for how long Hillary was going to hang in the race.

And I realized something then: Hillary can't quit. This is her one shot to be president: she just turned 61 in October; if she loses the nomination to Obama, with the better-than-average odds of him beating McCain in the general election in November, she's looking at another eight years before she can realistically run again. That would make her 69 - only three years younger than John McCain now, roughly the same age as Reagan when he was elected. But, here's the thing: those were men. The political calculus, even in this year when history will be made with whomever is the eventual Democratic nominee, I think is pretty clear: this country just ain't ready for Grandma President. Margaret Thatcher, Hillary ain't.

So, Hillary's in this to the end. If she picks up Texas or Ohio on March 4th - or both - she's mathematically back in this thing, and the possibility of a brokered convention becomes more likely. And, let's be honest here: if it comes down to a brokered convention, I'm not betting against the Clinton machine. But even if she loses both Texas and Ohio, I just don't think she bows out. Because of the way the Democratic party apportions delegates from primaries and caucuses, there's an entirely good chance that we won't have a nominee secured until the very last primary vote has been cast. If there's even the remotest hint of a possibility of a chance that she could somehow pull it out, Hillary will stay in it.

This is her one - her only - shot. Her ambition won't let her do anything else.

And now, your moment of Zen

Just realized something: I'm a pretty angry geek.

Do with that what you will.

Just when I thought I was out...

...he pulls me back in. The bastard.

But: ooh, shiny!



I hate you, George Lucas, you of the stilted dialogue and oh-so-boring-excuse-for-a-podrace plotter. And yet, I will give you more of my money.

Bastard.

To wit: what?

For those of you who have seen Cloverfield, like myself - and yes, I should post my thoughts on the movie; thanks for asking! - the following screencap may make you go "Grrrrr". Or, like Matt, say, "God damn you JJ Abrams".



You see that? That thing in the red circle, so helpfully drawn by Matt? That's the freakin' Dharma Initiative logo. Y'know: from Lost. That other Bad Robot property. WTF?

So: aptly put, Matt. God damn you, JJ. Damn you to hell.

I can has NY dstryng mnstr? K thx!

I will be seeing Cloverfield tonight. I am expecting awesome. I am, in fact, expecting a whole heaping plate of awesome. Perhaps, if I'm lucky, with a side order of tasty goodness. And ketchup. Because I like ketchup.

So, to recap for all zero people who read this blog who are not currently typing this blog post: I'm going to see Cloverfield tonight. With my wife. Who is possibly more excited about it than I am. Of course, this will be the first movie she's seen in a theatre since our daughter was born, lo these 13 months ago; but who's counting?

(Aside: I think the only reason I'm writing this is because I left a comment on Scalzi's blog today, and actually entered this blog's url in the "website" field on the comment box. On the off chance that my stupid, two-line comment - a straight rip-off of a Nelson Muntz quote from one of my favorite Simpons episodes - really resonated with some of his readership, and they clicked over here, I wanted something from the last year to be at the top of the page. Not, you know, a post from 2006. Then I'd just be a lame-o.)

(Aside to the aside: I just wrote "lame-o". Wow. I'm more tired than I thought.)

There. Are. FOUR. LIGHTS!

I've come to the realization - gradually, creepingly, over the course of untold days and weeks and months - that I am no longer part of the coveted young person demographic. I am 31, married with a kid and another on the way, steadily employed, working in an office environment, and my average bedtime now hovers around 10:30pm - no surprise, then, that I have fallen out of this coveted social and cultural cluster. For fuck's sake, one beer of a Friday night and I'm ready for a solid eight hours. Of blissful sleep.

But I still didn't think of myself as a grownup. Not really. Intellectually, I knew that my irresponsible years were behind me; emotionally, I still thought of myself as 23. Shudder-inducing though that statement may be, it is truth. I had constructed an elaborate illusion of myself in my head, for the sole benefit of my own ... what? Self-preservation? Self-worth? Internal hipster cred? Who knows.

Last night, as I was drifting to sleep next to my wife after about a (highly-satisfying) hour of NBA Street Vol. 3 on the old PS2, this artifice was shattered. For some reason, my mind wandered onto the subject of emo, and I realized that, no matter how many times I hear the fucking term and the stupid fucking music it refers to, the first thing that will pop into my head when I hear the word is this:

Emo Philips.

Dear God, he's not even funny.