and in that spirit I present some Friday diversions:
- Move Over OED: Old-fashioned dictionaries got you down? Then try the Pseudodictionary, full of words that should be, but aren't, - link lifted from Pop Culture Junk Mail
- Wow, I'm Bad at This Game in Meatspace AND Cyberspace: Hand Slapping. Yep, it's just what it sounds like. You slap each others hands. (Don't worry, it's more difficult than you'd think). - found on Kid Icarus and the Gang
- I'm Not a Preener, By Any Stretch: But if I had the money, I would buy this super cool mirror, which is made of wood. Seriously, watch the Quicktime movie. It's stunning. - a reflection from Information Nation
- Draw Your Self-Portrait With Using Just 5 Lines?: Nah, me neither (and I've been trying). But some folks can. Check out the gallery at the 5 line self portrait - drawn from Coolio's
- GGGRRRRRR!: Can't say it to their face? Why not Vent? It will make you feel better, and entertain the rest of the on-line community to boot.
- "this is a great book. an even better movie. VERY CUTE GUYS IN THE MOVIE! rent it. now!": All the terrible Amazon.com book reviews, all in one place (Thanks, Alex!)
Goof off well, caped crusaders, because sometimes you've just got to fight the good fight against the corporate machine.
So this evening conversation turned to super powers (as geeky conversations often do), and we all decided what super powers we would have if we were mutated ala Stan Lee; that is to say our powers would reflect a part of our personality.
I, of course, requested the power of Extreme Sarcasm, but was informed in no uncertain terms by Babs (heretofore to be known as the animal communicator "Voxie" (she's the hero with moxie!)) that I already possess that power. Sigh. Mine is an unappreciated lot, saving the world from ennui, idiocy and self-importance one quip at a time.
Instead of parlaying my natural sarcastic ability for the greater good, the group assigned me the title of Space Protagonist (this nickname stems from a a dream Peccable once had were I starred in my own sci-fi tv show, but Pop Culture Boy had all the lines. Figures). I did make sure to stipulate that if I was to be the Space Protagonist, I would have a spaceship. And laser guns. And cool futuristic boots like Barbarella. Hmmm... and maybe an Orgasmatron, but that's not for fighting crime. Oh no. That's all for Sarcasmo.
Er.. I mean, the Space Protagonist.
Still...Space Protagonist is rather a vague super power. What does a Space Protagonist do exactly? Do they irritate space? Do they invade your personal space? Do they adjust your floor plan to make optimum use of your existing space? Are they a hero, an anti-hero or more of a gun for hire? Leader of the Pack, or secretly the villain, quietly awaiting the day when they can betray the rest of the super clan? I look to you, dear readers, for answers. What should my powers be?
A special rekated sidenote to the Pink Haired Girl herself: With the power to change the color (Pink!), texture (Furry!) and Luminosity (Sparkly!) of everyday objects..you should consider the name "Fantastica." Yeah, Fantastica.
A special note to horror movie fans (and film fans in general):
If you have the opportunity, I recommend you check out the Spanish horror film The Devil's Backbone. It has a chilling narrative, wonderfully understated special effects, a beautiful visual sense, and some lovely scenes that are gorey, and yet not at all gratuitous. A fine film all around.
To truly appreciate this film, have yourself a few shots of rum beforehand. It will add a whole other dimension to your movie viewing experience. Pay attention now, as this is important, Do Not Substitute Another Alcohol for the Rum. If you do, the effect will be ruined. Enjoy!
Yes, well, I know I said "later today..." rather than this evening, but today proved more hectic than anticipated. So, without further ado, some fun stuff as promised:
- Yo Mama: "Determine your maternal ancestor", and they don't mean your great-grandmother. Does all DNA eventually go back to one mother, an "Eve" figure? A cotton swab and just under $10 could show you which of the seven paths you may have been descended from. Science is fun! - Found while working on a Stone puzzle (and no I won't tell you which one. And no, I also haven't solved it yet. Darn it!)
- All That is Bad About the World Wide Web, Indexed in One Place: Welcome to e-hell. (It's all so bad, but you'll look anyway.) via Top Fun Website.
- Cute, Silly, and Needlessly Violent: Alien Hominid is my kind of game. discovered on Fun Junkie!
- My Eyes deceive Me: And they make my brain hurt. Is it moving? Blame the headache on the The Presurfer, for I found it there.
And now, I am off to sleep. Feel free to play along at home.
Sorry for the lack of update, but I had the Screaming Headache of Doom last night. Promise to update with silly stuff later in the day. For now, here's the Monday Morning Quiz.
Courtesy of the ever entertaining Internet, I bring you the following Nobody-Does-Work-On-Fridays offerings:
- Is That A Wand In Your Pocket, Or Are You Just Happy to See Me, Harry?: Some people have too much time on their hands. Some people have dirty minds. I, for one, have both, but even I didn't catch any of the sexual innuendo rampant in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Thanfully, these people found it for me. And you. - Via Drummer Boy
- "Get down, Get Down, Disco Pigeon": Re-live Sesame Street Disco on Sesame Street Fever. I'm not sure which is more embarrassing; that I used to own these albumns, or that I still enjoyed listen to the tracks on the site. - by way of B3ta
- Evil Needs Candy Too: Looking for some ghoulish gear? Try Arkham. - Via Geiha asobi blog
- When Fonts Attack: The Epic Battle of Helvetica vs. Arial! Will Helvetica regain it's rightful place? It's all up to you. - Found on Idle Type
- He's So Sup: Part puzzle game, part action movie, part stick figure death theater, the gorey and rude Johnny Rocketfingers is not a bad way to waste some time. (Fun, but probably not work safe. Play with caution. OR play at home.) - Via Link Swarm
Is it 5:00 yet?
I regret to inform you that you are no longer hip, irreverant, or cool. No longer can you wear trucker's hats with irony, pre-faded tee's with clever sayings with impunity, or pricey Chuck Taylor's with slacking pride.
It simply isn't counter culture if you can buy it at Urban Outfitters.
I'm sorry that corporate America has swallowed up your cool to sell to the masses, but it is unavoidable. Better change your scene soon, or we'll never be able to know who's cynical and hip, and who's just a cool, cool kid.
That is all.
Perhaps. Let's wait and see.
I am talking about Wacky Adventures.
Wacky Adventures are great. By putting you in strange situations fraught with possible danger, and introducing you to strange and wonderful characters, Wacky Adventures take the stigma out of Safety and Security. "Gosh," you'll say after such an adventure, "I'm sure glad that is over. I'll just sit here in my safe little cubicle, drink some bad coffee, and enjoy the boredom around me. Stimulation sure is scary."
- A Free Lunch: Posing as an old-school phreaker in order to take advantage of a limo ride to NYC (my first trip), and subsequent lunch in a ultra-swank Manhattan restaurant, all on the expense account of a major magazine. This was back when the idea of hackers as villains was first hitting main stream media, and this magazine was so anxious to get some profiles they didn't bother doing as fact-checking first. The whole thing was actually set up by my partner-in-social-engineering (name withheld pending permission). My job was to sit there, smile mysteriously, and look pretty. We lunched with the magazine editor and another gentleman who looked disturbingly like Donald Sutherland, didn't talk much, and ordered the Sizzling Rice Soup (which I have never seen before or since). They were very keen on the idea of a mystery woman (I refused to have my name used), but eventually gave up on me when I refused to give them any details in follow-up phone interviews. They actually put the limo at our disposal for the entire day, to use as we would. To this day, I can't believe the limo actually showed up to being with, (arrangements were made via a BBS), and even more surprised that we weren't simply kidnapped and sold into slavery in some remote country. (For the record, I never actually lied to them about my phone experience...They were so excited about the story they were willing to fill in a lot of blanks themselves while I was being "mysterious".)
- Superhero Sing-a-Long: Returning from a reading given by T.C. Boyle, Pop Culture Boy and I were nearly run over by three young men who were barreling down the sidewalk, linked arm-in-arm. At the last second, Pop Culture Boy struck a comic-book hero pose, took me in the crook of his arm and lifted me to safety. His antics stopped the gentleman dead in their tracks, as they were doubled-over in laughter. We got to talking, and next thing we were walking with them (and their guitar), chatting up musicians on the street, trying to convince them to come jam with us. We ended up in the basement of a coffee shop, singing into the night.
- Eris, Anarchy, and Most of All, Pizza: I saw an ad in the City Paper announcing a meeting of Erisians in a local park. I simply had to go see what it is organized Erisians (hello, do we not know the meaning of chaos?) do when they get together. I was the only one who showed besides the organizers, so I went back and hung out with them, had pizza, and watched The Simpsons. They were more anarchist than Erisian really, and as it turns out we had friends in common anyway, so it was a bit less adventurous than anticipated. (Still--I fell it's always good to be friends with the anarchists; it gives the Feds something interesting to put in your file, and you always know who to turn to for guns and supplies when the revolution comes.)
Alas, my life has been bereft of Wacky Adventures as of late. David Bowie does not fall through my ceiling like in the X-FM commercial. Everyone in my office does not spontaneously turn into clowns. The government has not showed up and asked me to do a one-time, high-priority, secret mission involving a chiuaua and a duck. I am never mistaken for a celebrity and whisked off for an important, very public performance, which is later hailed as her greatest yet.
We discussed the possibility of trying Morton's List, which I am completely game for, or, (and perhaps it is the influence of the anarchist adventure) Peccable recommended I run an advert of my own. I am thinking:
Wanted: Wacky Adventures
In and around the Philadelphia area.
Preferably involving wizards or pirates
but am flexible. Treasure an added bonus.
Any leads? Let me know.
and the old layout returns
As many of you know, the old commenting system was having issues. I haven't abandoned it all together--I've merely disable it to give this new one a try. Hopefully all your brilliance will stop being swallowed into the ether.
Sadly, this means all your previous words of wisdom may have been lost.
Guess you'll just have to wow the world again.
Just trying it on for size. Not sure yet if it's staying...
I've been working from home on a labor intensive writing project, which has been great in many ways--but it also means my week days and weekends melt together so I'm not sure which is which.
Plus---I did just get the Intellvision.
So, I am mostly unprepared for Monday. I have for you just two meager offerings:
Also, a cry for help. If anyone knows how to (a) make my PC stop crashing from my Netgear card driver (b) properly install a sofa slipcover or (c) make the Intellivision produce sound when it is being run through my VCR (the switcher is full), please let me know. Thanks!
Today, I purchased the following items:
I did manage to resist the vintage Philco (in orange), but only just.
Clearly I don't get out of the house often enough.
Used to be that I would despair that no teachers ever looked like Sting when I was a kid. Now I must also mourn because we never had classes like this.
And seriously, a healthy round or two of Doom in class might have helped relieved some of my pre-teen angst.
Found on Newsfitler (which might not be safe for work).
One of the most uncomfortable ways to vault into conciousness: screaming and flailing thanks to a sudden, intense charley horse.
Followed a close second by a panicky wake-up brought on by your bedmate screaming in your ear and kicking you, hard.
Sorry, Pop Culture Boy.
A few of you mentioned in comments that you'd be interested in giving the amateur PANTO thing a go, as there seem to be no established groups in the Philly area.
If anyone else might be interested, please email me and let me know. I'm planning on sending out a general email to all interested parties next week to try and set up the initial meeting.
If I do start a 'zine (and this is a big IF), I'd like to call it "Boogie Street", after the Leonard Cohen song:
So come, my friends, be not afraid.
We are so lightly here.
It is in love that we are made;
In love we disappear.
Tho’ all the maps of blood and flesh
Are posted on the door,
There’s no one who has told us yet
What Boogie Street is for.
Also, I'd like to keep calling you minions.
Of course, I may do that anyway. In fact, I think I shall.
Those who are seriously interested should email me so I can decided whether or not its worth it for me to get off my lazy duff and do this thang.
Mmmm...minions. Err...I mean art. Yeah, art.
Who am I kidding. I mean minions.
Smarter and more clever than I, David from Small.To has pointed out that I (I! Me!) have fallen hook, line and sinker for an Internet hoax.
Bad Sarcasmo. Bad, bad, Sarcasmo.
However, not one to let Metallica get away with everything, I present you with the link to Sue All the World (from the same folks who brought us Napster Bad.) (Some language not appropriate for work).
Next they will be targeting bands that once had integrity and refused to be part of the machine, only to later become a major cog in it.
I know, I know, I've been a blogging slacker, but sometimes one has to live their life in order to blog about it. Mea culpa, etc.
Since I know you are easily distracted by shiny, silly things, I will give you a plethora of posts, and then you'll forget to be mad at me at all (I am so cunning.)
- Uhura Sings!: And what's worse, she sings the theme to Star Trek. I can't link to this directly (bandwidth issues), but you can find it on April Winchell's Multimedia site, under the heading TV Stars Who Insist on Singing. It's...oh so wrong.
- "I Never Knew Bread Could Be So Exciting": Action, adventure, jet planes, and baked goods. Miss Sunbeam tells brings you The Story of Bread.
- No, I Don't Know What's Happening Here: But Bubblesoap sure does look cool. Lots of nifty bits to explore. - found on Fun Junkie!
- All You Need Is Some Ludwig Van in the Background: Thought Criminal. Use it to brainwash someone you love. - Via Idle Type
- It Was A Dark and Stormy...Well, You Know: The 2003 Winners of The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. Snoopy's entry no where in site. - via Information Nation
- Ugly Money: A burrito shop in Edit: Correction
CaliforniaNorth Carolina has been saving and scanning all the drawn, written, colored on and otherwise mutilated money they've received as payment. I quite like the Homer Simpson dollar bill. - by way of J-Walk Blog
- This Is So Disgusting: I just had to share it with you. Instructions: Look at this totally innocuous, safe for work (I promise) picture. Read accompanying text. Look at picture again. Say "Eeewwwwww!" - found by Kid Icarus and the Gang
- I Believe You're Next: Spectacular Attacks. Beautifully creepy. - via Milk and Cookies
- Make Your Brain Cry: Wrap your head around some paradoxes.
There are very few films that do not benefit from the audience screaming "make out!" during intense, head-to-head scenes.
However, unpacking has also been a little bit of an adventure. Since we paid our movers to pack for us, I didn't get the pre-move joy (and phenonemal time-sucker) that is sifting through the mementos. So I've enjoying old photos and thumbing through forgotten books on the unpacking side.
This weekend, I unpacked my literay heritage. A huge pile of little stapled booklets, replete with avant garge art; poorly constructed short stories; and bad, bad, poetry.
That's right, I uncovered the Ark of the 'Zine (previously buried in a closet at the old apartment). We are still in the examining stages, but early research shows that much of that quite a bit of the drekkier bits of poetry are mine.
Here's a quick overview of 'zine titles now available in Sarcasmo's Library:
- The Mirror: In high school, I was associate editor, then later Editor-in-Chief of my high school literay magazine. The fact that I may owe my editorships to the mutual crush between myself and the Editor-in-Chief before me doesn't cheapen this at all, no matter what my friend who didn't get the position thinks.
- The Purple Cow: Our high school's underground literay 'zine. Admittedly, I didn't work on this fine 'zine, but many of my friends did. (The same friends, in fact, who hijacked the school's PA system and played music and made commentary throughout a whole school day, after watching Pump Up the Volume. Cleverly, they rigged it so the sound went through the same circuit as the school's main power, so they couldn't shut them down without shutting down the school). I was offered a chance to stand in their yearbook picture (where all their faces are obscured), but declined because in the end, I couldn't claim the fame when I didn't have the guts for the pranking. I still have several issues the Cow though. In mylar bags.
- Nuwanda's Journal of Fine Literature and Other Cheap Trash: Named by yours truly (an homage to the Dead Poets Society, which we thought was the most brilliant and insightful film ever made at the time. Yes, yes, we even briefly tried to start our own DPS. Natch.), this 'zine was photocopied and put together in a friend's basement during summer break. We used the fact that it wasn't a school publication to
swear with wild abandonexercise our right to free expression as much as possible.
- Dead Happy Face Zine: In college, I found a like-minded friend who was already putting out a 'zine, and would help edit/assemble them in her dorm room.
Pop Culture Boy has suggested I scan some of my worst poems in for your reading pleasure (or torture, whichever. It's not quite Vogon grade, but it'll do). I haven't decided either way yet, but if I do, I might be tempted to embarass some old friends too.
Much of my own work that I came across I recognize (and let's face it, I only thumbed through for things with my byline), but there were others that don't resonate with me at all. I don't recognize the Sarcasmo that wrote them, can't recall the mindset that would create them. Was I ever that naive, that innocent, that whiny, that bad at rhythm and rhyme?
It's a strange place to meet yourself, in the bottom of a cardboard box, pressed between yellowed pages. Even stranger to briefly wonder which self is the imposter, or did this person really grow out of that?
Sittng there, still in my pajamas, covered in dust and with the 'zines spread out in around me like a paper fan, I briefly considered the idea of starting a new 'zine. After all, I have creative, prolific friends. Then I thought to my self "No. I'm simply not that pretentious about my writing anymore."
Which was quickly followed by, "But I will write about it on my blog."
Pretention? Feh. That is for wide-eyed children who think good poetry is a jumble of words that don't rhyme. Let's instead call it... creative vision. Yeah, that's the ticket. Vision.
Maybe this person did grow out of that one after all.
Computer seems to be working...I am cautiously optimistic.
However, I am also insanely busy with apartment stuff, so look for better posts later this week.
Not to worry, though. I wouldn't let another Monday go by without the Monday Morning Quiz.
Oh, also, this is kind of cool: Today's Front Pages, front pages from around the world. Check up on your world news! (via Information Nation.)
will all this unpacking be done?
The technician finally came by to replace the PC fan yesterday. When I asked him if I had done anything to cause the malfunction he said "No, I've seen a lot of this lately. Fans and power supplies."
So, he leaves and my PC is good for an hour or so. Yippee! Then, my monitor blinks out. It doesn't go off, mind you, just out. The power light switches from green to orange, and blinks off and on. When I can finally get it to power back up, everything on my PC is still running. This happened a few times, so I ran the symptoms by Pop Culture Boy. His diagnosis: "Sounds like a power supply problem."
I'm going to switch out monitors this weekend to make sure...but I suspect it will be another service call. Grrr...
And, ergo, no frivolous Friday fun for you all. Post some fun things in the comments for me to look at instead. Cheer me up out of my techno funk.
PCB, our friend Jess, and myself spent sometime at the Smithsonian Folklife Festival. I noticed that there was a Panto stage. EDIT: Link fixed. I've often heard mention of Panto in British TV series (most often in the guise of the Panto Horse), but had never seen on performed; nor did I know what to expect. I assumed it had to do with Pantomime, in the same way Marcel Marceau mimed, or those horrible people who paint their faces white and hang out in parks assaulting invisible boxes.
Instead, it was a delightful combination of stock characters, improv, audience participation, hammy acting, terrible puns, and wonderful, wicked laughter.
I SO want to be a Panto performer. For a living. Seriously. If I could find a place in Philly that did this, I would sign on as an apprentice tomorrow. There was tremendous report between cast and audience, plenty for the kids, and some in-jokes for the adults. Also, how can one not appreciate an art form where the audience is not only encouraged, but cajoled into talking to the characters on stage, and into booing and hissing the bad guys? You simply have to love it. It made disinterested American children put down their GBAs and cell phones and cheer (real power that!), especially when the feather-dusting drag queen (or Panto Dame) defeated the rapier toting bad guy (Boo! Hiss!) in a duel, and then had an adventurous chase in the seating area.
Anyone know anything local Panto groups? Let me know. And now, on to our regularly scheduled program:
- The Monday Morning "It Ain't Panto But Its Close" Quiz: Take it here.
- Like Memory, but with more Booing, Cheering and Hissing: Panto Pairs.
- Do Not Dance With the Happy Man: Happyman Dance - Via Milk and Cookies
- Just How Bored Are You?: Bored enough to watch corn grow? - Found on Madville
- The Only Mime Better Than a Pantomime: Dead Mimes - Found on Everlasting Blort
Have a good Monday. And go find some Panto!
After much Pre-Move (apartment not painted on day lease started, neither toilet worked, gas man couldn't turn on the gas because the stove wasn't hooked up, big hole in the shower wall, no power in the bedroom), Move (movers arrived several hours late, took twice as much time as estimated (even though they packed us earlier) and thereby costing twice as much as estimated, being given grief by said movers for asking them to go back and get the stuff they left behind) and Post- Move (boxes boxes everywhere and not a place to sit) aggravation, Pop Culture Boy and I are safely tucked away in our charming new home (and romantically curled up in bed, blogging thanks to the new WIFI set-up.
Special thanks to Peccable, Tim, and SarcasMom & Dad for all their help and support. (SarcasDad can put together furniture faster than a demon! It was amazing.)
Also, thanks to Jess for letting us run away to DC and visit her the day after the move, leaving all the un-packing for another, calmer day.