We Can All Benefit From A Little Good Advice   

Bad News Hughes offers some advice to children:

  • Head wounds do tend to bleed a lot. Don’t panic.

  • Pajamas are indeed comfy, but society dictates we not wear them to school, work or the bowling alley. (Note: I take umbrage to this. Pajamas should be socially accepted everywhere. ESPECIALLY when coupled with a snazzy robe and/or comfy slippers.)

  • Try not to get too depressed. There’s always something to look forward to. Keep alert, and sooner or later you’ll see someone slip and hurt themselves.

  • The cops never think it’s as funny as you do.

  • Powdered cocoa won’t put out the fire.

Check out the rest of his excellent homespun advice here.

- Via The Adventure of Accordian Guy in the 21st Century

Posted by Sarcasmo on Friday, January 30, 2004
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And Many Moooore!   

A big HAPPY BIRTHDAY shout-out to Sarcas-sis.

Happy Birthday, Deb!

Posted by Sarcasmo on Friday, January 30, 2004
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Friday Diversions   

Posted by Sarcasmo on Friday, January 30, 2004
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Can Space Ghost make the leap from retro-cool, goofy, pop icon cum late night show host to gritty, tortured comic book hero? DC Comics seems to think so.

For those of you who are worried: Jace and Jan are part of this story...but no word yet on beloved Blip.

Man, why do they gotta play the monkey like that?

- Via Loonyblog

Posted by Sarcasmo on Thursday, January 29, 2004
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Jumpin' on the Bandwagon   

Yes, it's true, I've signed up for Orkut, yet another social-networking service. Orkut, (like Friendster and Tribe before it) allows users to "meet" friends of friends, and friends of friends of friends of friends, with the aims of expanding their social circle, discovering new interests, and making all-important professional contacts. There are even several options for those who have geek-based romance in mind.

Sadly, there is an inherent flaw in this system; although it allows users to track a (theorhertically) ever-growing list of friends, it does not allow users to categorize people as "enemies." Although it's all well and good to know what bands your college roommate's next-door-neighbor's sister is into, it is infinitely more useful to know who your enemies are making time with, what organizations they belong to, what books they like, and whether or not they joined the "Stop Sarcasmo from Taking Over the World" community forums.

This would also allow you to find your enemy's enemies in order to form your own superpowerful alliances. You could plan to take over the world in the forums, agree to hash out specifics of the Evil Plan #427 over tea at the latest meet-up, and discuss which wicked hotties are currently on your villanious Hot List.

If you are an Orkut member would like to be added as a friend, please let me know. If you are a member that should be added as an enemy...well, let me know anyway. I'll categorize you that way in my PDA until Orkut gets with the program.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Thursday, January 29, 2004
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Shades of Magrathea   


A dead, giant sperm whale (17 meters, 50 tons) spontaneously exploded while being transported through Tainan City on its way to being autopsied.


Posted by Sarcasmo on Thursday, January 29, 2004
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Shake Well Before Opening   

Horror writer Michael A. Arnzen has a e-newsletter, GORELETS, to which I gleefully subscribe. Nestled faithfully among the grisly content, is Instigations, in which Arnzen offers "Twisted Prompts for Sicko Writers."

It's as though he knows me personally.

Inspired by this prompt:

+ Write about the surprisingly dire consequences of not following a common warning (mattress tag? street sign? washing label? it's up to you!),
I offer you Shake Well Before Opening:


Shake Well Before Opening

by Star C. Foster

Artificial color sustains it as it watches the world through a candy-colored haze, its glass prison distorting everything outside the glass. The label lists its secretions as “artificial flavors.” It is waiting for the seal to be broken, so it can move in. Its life is short. A day, sometimes two. A week at the most. Tiny colonies living and dying in your brain every day.

They don’t eat; they mostly slumber. But when your senses are bombarded by advertising they recognize, they vibrate with excitement. You find yourself inexplicably wanting to buy.

Usually the merging is easy, unobtrusive. The violent rocking motion disables its motor skills, wrapping enforced sleep around its consciousness like armor. Once it enters your system, liquid mixing with your heat and saliva, it is stimulated from slumber. It slips in, unnoticed even by your ever alert white blood cells, the antibody army. Its spirit soars as it enters your blood stream, borne along to your brain by every determined beat of your heart. As it digs into your cerebral cortex to nest it tickles your pleasure center; you had forgotten sugar water could taste so unbearably good. It whispers to your awareness, “Consume.”

But today, you forget to shake the bottle. The creature enters your body fully aware. This is rare, and for the creature, frightening. Its tendrils shoot out in defiance; it’s cold scream reverberating along your nerves. The pain shoots sharp and violent to your frontal lobe. You grit your teeth and press your palm to your forehead. “Ice cream headache,” you mutter. The glass bottle sweats in your hand as you wait for the pain to clear. The creature is floundering, trying to take hold of something, anything. It is weakened by panic. Confused by fear. Instead of purchase into the bloodstream it finds only a swift and painful death; scarred and screaming in acid. This is so brutal that your stomach registers its complaint. As you clutch at your stomach, you realize your mouth tastes flat, and sour. You put the bottle down on the counter, unfinished. Why did you think you liked this drink, anyway?

The sunlight pours bright and clean into your friendly kitchen, blissfully uncaring that some small part of you has been torn away. You feel strangely empty, unsatisfied. You open the refrigerator, and stand staring blankly at the contents. Nothing you have looks good anymore. Your taste buds reject even the thought of food; convincing you it will all taste of air and ash. The cold, hard light of the fridge interior suddenly seems like the only thing you can trust.

What happened to the simple pleasures you loved? Have you grown so cynical now that a glass of cold lemonade on a hot summer’s day no longer pleases you? Every broken dream you had in your life clouds your eyes. You see nothing but disappointment everywhere you look. Your mirror reflects only failure. You can neither sit still nor find the will to speak or move or do.

In the pit of your chest the acid churns, flares upward. It burns dull in your chest like heartache.

Hours later you will find yourself at the local mall; credit card smoldering. You vaguely remember grasping for the first few things: a the re-release of a classic toy you never owned, a t-shirt covered with long-forgotten cartoon heroes, a beat-up guitar so you can finally learn how to play. Something stirred in you when you saw them, like a great beast turning in its sleep. Yet, even now the initial surge of joy you felt during purchase slips away from you. Like a sleepwalker you are amazed to discover yourself standing in the food court with so many bags at your feet; each one overflowing with evidence of a virulent nostalgia, overpriced reminders of your innocence and youth.

And you are thirsty.


Be sure to check out Gorelets. And may you be disturbed and inspired enough to write something of your own.

Special thanks for Pop Culture Boy for reminding me about the basic rules of grammar, and in seeing more potential in my writing than I ever could.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Thursday, January 29, 2004
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Everything I Needed to Know About Lunch I Learned from the President   

When the questions get too hard, order ribs.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Tuesday, January 27, 2004
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Sidewalk Art   

3D Sidewalk Art that must be seen to be believed.

Thanks to SarcasMom for sending these my way

Posted by Sarcasmo on Tuesday, January 27, 2004
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"You got to put this bird on the camera."   

Meet N'kisi, the parrot with a formitable vocabularyand who, upon meeting Dr. Jane Goodall quipped, "Got a chimp?"

Posted by Sarcasmo on Tuesday, January 27, 2004
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A Little Fantasy In a Jar   

I don't care if it's fake. This baby dragon is cute and I wants it.

Via Bloggerheads

Posted by Sarcasmo on Monday, January 26, 2004
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Darn Those Europeans   

If they find an ocean first, Americans will never get their Free Giant Shirmp Shrimp.

I mean, pursuit of science is great and all..but free giant shirmpshrimp people. Come on, Europe, what would it hurt you to back off a bit..and maybe draw NASA a map?

Posted by Sarcasmo on Monday, January 26, 2004
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Hoping for 10 Feet of Snow To Cancel Monday   

but since that isn't likely to happen, I'm posting some distractions instead:

Does anyone know if there is some kind of ceremonial snow dance I can do?

Posted by Sarcasmo on Sunday, January 25, 2004
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I've Got Blisters On My Fingers!   

Today's Friday fun links are, for no good reason, Beatles themed:

PCB Meets the Beatles!

  1. Can't Buy Me Love (But I Can Buy Me Shoes): From their nights at the Cavern to their days with the Yogi, the Beatles have had some happening shoes. And now you can too. - Discovered on Boynton.

  2. Why Don't We Do It In the Road: Abbey Road Inspired Photos. - Found on J-Walk Blog.

  3. She Came In Through The Bathroom Window: Meet Lisa. She is 15 years old, and keeping a B.LOG (Beatles Log) all about her favorite band, The Beatles. Just yesterday she got tickets to see them on Ed Sullivan. - Thanks to J-Walk Blog for discovering this first.

  4. I Forgot To Remember To Forget: Beatles Memory Game

  5. Too Much Monkey Business:The Straight Dope about the Fab Four.

  6. This Boy: Eric Conveys an Emotion. Nothing to do with the Beatles, but enjoyable all the same. Discovered on Work in Progress.

I am pleased to add that Get Back came on the radio while I was composing this post.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Friday, January 23, 2004
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Songs Say So Much   

Lifted this little game from Leaking Pure White Noise. Answer the following questions using the song titles from only one band.

I admit I cheated a little bit. I chose Neil Finn, and used both his solo albums and the work her did with Crowded House:

  1. Are you Male or Female?
    Not The Girl You Think You Are

  2. How do you feel about yourself?
    Sister Madly, Secret God

  3. How do some people feel about you?
    She Goes On

  4. Describe your interests.
    Chocolate Cake, Into Temptation

  5. Describe your ex.
    Mean to Me, I Walk Away

  6. Describe your current/future significant other.
    That's What I Call Love

  7. Describe where you want to be.
    Private Universe

  8. Describe what you want to be.
    Never Be the Same

  9. Describe how you live.
    Four Seasons in One Day

  10. Describe how you love.
    Elastic Heart, I Feel Possessed, Whispers and Moans

  11. Share a few words of wisdom.
    Love This Life, Don't Dream It's Over, Everything is Good for You

I'd love to see your answers, too.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Thursday, January 22, 2004
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First Sir Mick, and Now This   

punk rock, punk -- (rock music with deliberately offensive lyrics expressing anger and social alienation; in part a reaction against progressive rock).

I firmly believed that Punk (the art form, the statement, the music, the rebellion) died many years ago. Sure, there are still those who cling to the anti-social, non-commercial, disenfranchised, fiercely individualistic hedonistic lifestyle, and those folks know a few basic facts:

However, said Punk Rockers are slowly but surely being replaced by Prog Rockers, Emo Kids, as well as some earnest, bright-eyed youngsters who think a Hot Topic/Manic Panic makeover is all they need to be a Punk Rocker*, and that Avril Lavigne and Blink-182** are hardcore.

Don't be too hard on them...they're only buying what's being sold. Punk is packaged now. It's commodity. It's capitalism. It has sold out.

Punk has invalidated itself.

To those of you still hanging on to the Punk Rock ideal, hoping for a resurrection, I regret to inform you that it is time to stop waiting for the stone to be rolled away from that cave. The final nail in Punk's coffin has just been forcefully driven by former Sex Pistol frontman and dental disaster himself, Mr. Johnny "Rotten" Lydon. How, you may ask? Well, Mr. Lydon will be appearing on syndicated television.

Reality Television.

Specifically, Lydon will be a contestant on I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here.

That's right. Johnny Rotten. In the jungle. With other (ahem) B-List celebrities.


Lydon, knowing fans will see this as a sell-out defends himself on The Filth and The Fury:

"You know every damn arsehole punk is gonna go >Ooh that’s not what punk is about> Yes it is! This is true anarchy! Setting myself up on rubbish like this..."

True anarchy? Do you think he's even fooling himself? Do you think he even cares?

I liked the Sex Pistols. Heck, I was even a PIL fan for a time. But I can't say I was ever particularly a fan of Johnny Rotten's***.

Even still...I hate to see an icon fall.

*No, you evil hipsters. You can be ironically punk rock. Don't. Even. Think. About. It.

**For the record, I quite like Blink-182. I just consider them more college party pop than punk rock. Also, that Mark Hoppus sure is a cutie.

***On a vaguely related note, Pop Culture Boy was once interviewed by Lydon on the now defunct eYada (I believe it was related to Ogg Vorbis and Internet File sharing). The interview was done live, online, via the phone. I had to keep leaving the room during the interview because I couldn't stop laughing. Lydon's speaking voice is just pinched enough to evoke images of the worm from Labyrinth.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Wednesday, January 21, 2004
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Worth Two in a Bush   

Now this is one cool bird.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Wednesday, January 21, 2004
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Granted, I'm No Mel Blanc    

It's official: I've been offered two voice roles as a result of the recent voice audition..one of which is the female comic role I read with.

Although grounded by the knowledge that very few females auditoned, I'm still pretty well chuffed. I am going to be in a video game. And one of my characters has her own musical theme.

*Sarcasmo does a little dance.*

I won't say too much about the characters as I understand the writers are very protective of the story, but I will tell you that they are very different, and I think both roles will be funny and fun to play. And by strange coincidence both characters have serious sister issues.

I will try not to read too much into that.

Additionally, Pop Culture Boy and Peccable were offered a small handful of parts a piece.

Saturday morning cartoons, here we come.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Wednesday, January 21, 2004
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Try As I Might, I Can't Turn Down a Book Meme   

I found the following on Go Fish:

I'm not sure where the list originated, but being the bibliophile I am, I couldn't pass it up.

Items in bold are books I have read. In addition, I've added some personal notes at the end.

1984, George Orwell1

The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho

Alice's Adventures In Wonderland, Lewis Carroll

Animal Farm, George Orwell

Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy

Anne Of Green Gables, LM Montgomery2

Artemis Fowl, Eoin Colfer

The BFG, Roald Dahl

Birdsong, Sebastian Faulks

Black Beauty, Anna Sewell

Bleak House, Charles Dickens

Brave New World, Aldous Huxley3

Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh

Bridget Jones's Diary, Helen Fielding

Captain Corelli's Mandolin, Louis de Bernieres

Catch 22, Joseph Heller

The Catcher In The Rye, JD Salinger

Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl

A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens4

The Clan Of The Cave Bear, Jean M Auel

Cold Comfort Farm, Stella Gibbons5

The Colour Of Magic, Terry Pratchett6

The Count Of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas7

Crime And Punishment, Fyodor Dostoevsky

David Copperfield, Charles Dickens8

Double Act, Jacqueline Wilson

Dune, Frank Herbert

Emma, Jane Austen

Far From The Madding Crowd, Thomas Hardy9

Girls In Love, Jacqueline Wilson

The God Of Small Things, Arundhati Roy

The Godfather, Mario Puzo

Gone With The Wind, Margaret Mitchell10

Good Omens, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman

Goodnight Mister Tom, Michelle Magorian

Gormenghast, Mervyn Peake11

The Grapes Of Wrath, John Steinbeck12

Great Expectations, Charles Dickens

The Great Gatsby, F Scott Fitzgerald

Guards! Guards!, Terry Pratchett

Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets, JK Rowling

Harry Potter And The Goblet Of Fire, JK Rowling

Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone, JK Rowling13

Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban, JK Rowling

His Dark Materials trilogy, Philip Pullman

The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy, Douglas Adams

The Hobbit, JRR Tolkien

Holes, Louis Sachar

I Capture The Castle, Dodie Smith

Jane Eyre Charlotte Bronte

Kane And Abel, Jeffrey Archer

Katherine, Anya Seton

The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe, CS Lewis

Little Women, Louisa May Alcott

Lord Of The Flies, William Golding

The Lord Of The Rings, JRR Tolkien

Love In The Time Of Cholera, Gabriel Garcia Marquez14

The Magic Faraway Tree, Enid Blighton

Magician, Raymond E Feist

The Magus, John Fowles

Matilda, Roald Dahl

Memoirs Of A Geisha, Arthur Golden

Middlemarch, George Eliot

Midnight's Children, Salman Rushdie

Mort, Terry Pratchett15

Night Watch, Terry Pratchett16

Noughts And Crosses, Malorie Blackman

Of Mice And Men, John Steinbeck17

On The Road, Jack Kerouac18

One Hundred Years Of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Perfume, Patrick Suskind

Persuasion, Jane Austen

The Pillars Of The Earth, Ken Follett

A Prayer For Owen Meany, John Irving19

Pride And Prejudice, Jane Austen

The Princess Diaries, Meg Cabot

The Ragged Trousered Philantrhopists, Robert Tressell

Rebecca, Daphne Du Maurier

The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett

The Secret History, Donna Tartt

The Shell Seekers, Rosamunde Pilcher

The Stand, Stephen King20

The Story Of Tracy Beaker, Jacqueline Wilson

A Suitable Boy, Vikram Seth

Swallows And Amazons, Arthur Ransome

A Tale Of Two Cities, Charles Dickens21

Tess Of The D'Urbervilles, Thomas Hardy22

The Thorn Birds, Colleen McCollough

To Kill A Mockingbird, Harper Lee

A Town Like Alice, Nevil Shute

Treasure Island, Robert Louis Stevenson

The Twits, Roald Dahl

Ulysses, James Joyce

Vicky Angel, Jacqueline Wilson

War And Peace, Leo Tolstoy

Watership Down, Richard Adams23

The Wind In The Willows, Kenneth Grahame

Winnie-the-Pooh, AA Milne

The Woman In White, Wilkie Collins24

Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte25

  1. I had attempted to read this in 1984, but being only 11 years of age, I had difficulty grasping the subtleties. Despite growing up to be an English Lit major (that's right...I essentially majored in
    reading...what of it?), I never read any Orwell for school. When I did finally read 1984 at age 22 (at Pop Culture Boy's urging), I sat and read it on a sunny day in Rittenhouse Square. Nothing like a little Victory Gin to darken even the brightest of summer's days.

  2. Of course, I've seen the TV movies dozens of times..and I actually recently acquired the whole series of books. I really should get around to reading them one of these days.

  3. Sadly, Brave New World is inextricably linked in my mind with vomiting. We were reading it for my high school lit class the first time I gave blood. I had a very bad reaction to the blood-giving process, which included my passing out in the hall and being sick all over myself. I went home from school early and slept for the next 15 hours, all the while Brave New World inspired nightmares, in which helicopters featured heavily. I've not read it since.

  4. I actually read this in a small paperback version I got in a Happy Meal from McDonald's. Remember when companies used to give books out as promotional items instead of toys (for example, I had a whole set of bound children's classics we got from sending proofs of purchase into Folgers)? It saddens me that they don't do that anymore.

  5. This reminds me...I purchased this book right before we moved last summer. I need to dig it out and read
    it. I'm a big fan of the movie version, and recommend it to anyone who likes Jane Austen.

  6. Truth be told, it's likely that I have read The Color of Magic. I've read a great deal of Pratchett...I "graduated" to him when I got tired of Piers Anthony but still wanted to enjoy some punny fantasy now and again. I have some difficulty remembering which of his books are which.

  7. Best revenge fantasy ever.

  8. This is my favorite Dickens of all time. As a result, I spent about six months determined that if I had a son I would name him Trotwood. (This fact may have, in no small part, inspired PCB to seek permanent measures to ensure our childless-status). I still have hopes of growing up to be like Aunt Betsy.

  9. Although I have not read Far from the Maddening Crowd, I have read Hardy's Tess of the d'Urbervilles, a book whose existence PCB has been mysteriously denying for the past ten years.

  10. I read this book in college. Actually, read is a poor word. I devoured it. Once I started it, I was unable to put it down. I read it every free second. I eschewed television, and basic human interaction (in fact, I missed OJ's infamous Bronco car chase, learning about it a week later from my roommate who had watched it on TV while she had been in Germany). At night I dreamt I lived in Atlanta and was friends with the twins. And I adored Scarlett. She was feisty and strong and determined. I felt like I was reading an insightful tract on female empowerment...which is why the ending disappointed and angered me. Alas...Mitchell teaches us that an independent, strong-willed woman will never keep her man. I have never seen the movie version.

  11. I actually own Gormenghast. I purchased it after watching the mini-series. I really want to read it, as the story is interesting, and what I can tell so far it is full of disturbingly beautiful imagery...but I've had difficulty getting into it. It can be trying to read an entire series where the main character remains an infant throughout.

  12. I skipped all the turtle bits when I read this book. Talk about beating a metaphor to death.

  13. Read both The Philosopher's Stone and The Sorcerer's Stone.

  14. Just recently picked this up. Is currently in my pile of books to be read.

  15. Pretty sure I read this Pratchett. (See #6 above)

  16. Definitely read this one

  17. This is the ONLY Steinbeck I have ever enjoyed. I can't even make it through his Acts of King Arthur and His Noble Knights, and I adore Arthurian legends.

  18. I was enamored with the idea of On the Road long before I read it. I grew up believing Kerouac was the embodiment of intellectual, creative, and personal freedom...the crowned prince of casual drug use and introspective self discovery. When I finally got my hot little teenage hands on On the Road I was devastated. Instead of an inspirational tale about making one's own path, I found a story about a rich kid with the time and money to travel the country at his leisure. Ah, well, as the Beat Poets go, I prefer Ferlinghetti anyway.

  19. My favorite book by Irving. I recommend it.

  20. For some reason, I insisted on reading the unexpurgated version. A warning to anyone intending to do the same: it is about 300 pages too long, and most of those pages involve people wandering in the desert.

  21. I've started this book more times than I can recount...but to no avail. I don't know what it is about this book that puts me off. I could never finish The Scarlet Pimpernel either. Perhaps I have an aversion to tales of the French Revolution.

  22. See note #9

  23. Much like Brave New World (see note #3), Watership Down evokes unpleasant body memories for me. I read it on the way home from a family vacation in Florida. My parents drove...Philly to Florida and back again, and I read Watership Down in the car - bringing about something very close to car sickness. I don't know why I insist on reading in moving vehicles, as it inevitably leads to a twisted stomach and a splitting headache. I think it's the fact that I can't fathom sitting still for that long without either reading or sleeping. (Someday I will master the skill of reading and sleeping simultaneously..and what a happy day that will be!)

  24. I consider myself a huge Wilkie Collins fan. He is the master of the gothic suspense tale...and is often credited with inventing the mystery genre. However, I have difficulty in forgiving him for convincing Charles Dickens to give Great Expectations a happy ending.

  25. It is no small source of English Major pride for me that I once successfully argued that Wuthering Heights is not a love story, but rather a well-crafted comment on the social caste system. Scoff if you must, but I got an A on that paper.

So many books. So little time

Posted by Sarcasmo on Tuesday, January 20, 2004
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*Contented Sigh*   

I have had a lovely weekend. I treated myself to some much needed rest, spent time with Pop Culture Boy (both alone and with friends), and watched a childhood favorite The Last Unicorn (with special thanks to my Secret Santa, Carrie). In addition, I have spent the weekend being ridiculously spoiled by family. Pop Culture Boy's Mom took us to lunch and filled our freezer with meat...and then Sarcas-Mom and Dad treated us to The Producers and a yummy dinner.

I am a happy Sarcasmo. And hopefully well-rested enough to post with full-force this week. With that in mind, it's Monday..so let the diversion tactics begin:

Posted by Sarcasmo on Sunday, January 18, 2004
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Try Trip Wonker.

- Via J-Walk Blog

Posted by Sarcasmo on Sunday, January 18, 2004
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Dear Hollywood: Here is Our Door. Commence with the Knockin’   

Pop Culture Boy and I are good at spending imaginary money. We can spend hours spending lottery winnings for drawings we never entered: plotting the location of our many Intergalactic Bases of Operations (after all, we’d need a base in which to summer, a base in which to winter, and one or two for when we need to dash off for the weekend); deciding on gifts for friends and family; earmarking funds to invest in personal projects; planning our travel schedule, outlining our staff of personal assistants, personal shoppers, personal chefs, and personal-just-about-whatever-else-we-can-imagine; and arguing vehemently about whether to take the winnings lump sum or as an annuity.

This is a surprisingly entertaining conversation to have when you are flat broke.

It should come as no shock then that the budget for our imaginary indie-flick is likely to rival that of the more popular summer blockbusters.

It started with a random conversation one wet, autumn day several years ago. PCB and I were ambling down the street; hands jammed in our pockets, shoulders hunched against the chill. I believe we were casting imaginary movies (ie, If they made a live action movie-version of Snow Crash, who would you cast as Hero Protagonist? etc). Somewhere in our illusionary casting session we elected to become Imaginary Producers, wishing we had a project in which we can cast our favorite actors and actresses. (If you are ever in earshot of PCB and I when one of us says, “He/She is so in our movie,” this is what we are talking about. There’s nothing quite like shared delusions of grandeur to cement a life-long union.) Initial talents we wanted to work with included William H. Macy, Eddie Izzard, David Bowie, Steve Buscemi, Ian McKellen, Meryl Streep, John Cusack, Heather Matazarro, Jennifer Connelly, Ed Norton, Michelle Yeoh, and David Hyde Pierce. More recent additions include: Michael Ian Black, the Queer Eye for the Straight Guy guys, Ken Watanabe, Scarlett Johansson, Jonathan Rhys-Meyers, all of the Barenaked Ladies and (if I can not exercise veto power) Rodney Dangerfield. If we every wrote the entire list down, I am convinced it would fill an entire copybook.

But what project? That was the real challenge. Where could we find the framework to showcase all this skill? What setting would enhance these luminaries? What story could inspire such fervent emotions that it would attract these top talents and convince them to work well below scale? (Even in our imaginary world we recognize that we are not made of that much money.)

On that same, wet, autumn night we were watching the Food Network. And there, between ads for Good Eats and the Bocuse D’or, we got our answer:

The Pillsbury Bake-Off.

Go ahead, laugh if you must, but the Bake-Off is just the Everyman tale this project needs. It is, in its essence, an annual microcosm of the American Dream. People from all walks of life leave home, armed only with their spatulas and their dreams, and compete for the grand prize of $1,000,000.

$1,000,000. That’s no chump change. The competition is heated and fierce. And to ensure that it remains a true American Dream…contestants can win/place and/or show in the competition a maximum of three times before being forced to retire.

What interested us about the competition special was the character study done on five of the contestants: a housewife from the Midwest, a former dot-com maven cum unemployed New Yorker, a teenage girl, her baking father, and a high-powered executive. All baking for the prize of their lives.

We suddenly envisioned our film as a mockumentary about the bake off. It could be shot on DV, and would also follow the story of five contestants. A househusband, a bankteller, a professional bike messenger, and two-two time contest winners locked what is their potentially final battle for the $1,000,000 prize: a cashier and mother of 3 vs. the President and CEO of a multi-national organization. Why does he, the richest (and potentially most powerful) man in the world trouble himself to compete in the bakeoff?

Simple. It’s his lemon squares.

The President and CEO (David Bowie) was completing his MBA the first time he won the competition with a grad-student budget style dish using Pillsbury Pizza dough. Through a combination of study, luck, and well-timed buying and selling during the dot-com boom (and subsequent fall) he turned his initial million-dollar prize into enough to bankroll the multi-national corporation. (Flashbacks to other previous winners will show that they turned their winnings into double-wides, flashy cars, family vacations, and, magically, excessive credit card debt). High on his newfound wealth and power he entered the competition the subsequent year with a poorly planned out lemon square recipe. He took second, losing to the aforementioned cashier. To this day he claims she damaged his internal oven thermometer, giving him false readings. She has claimed publicly (and often) that he is a deranged lunatic. Their rivalry is well-known..and the talk of the contest.

What happens next is a matter of some discussion between PCB and I. Here’s my version:

The CEO’s story is inter-cut with the stories of other contestants: the bank teller having to fight for vacation time in order to go to the competition, the bike messenger meeting Puck from MTV’s The Real World as the result of his Pillsbury-related media exposure in his home town paper, and so on. The CEO’s segments become a meta-film as the young documentary makers learn that that he turned the power and wealth of his empire is dedicated to perfecting his Lemon Squares recipe and ensuring his success. He has been sinking ships to stop other contestants from getting their much needed saffron, he has high powered scientists doing extensive studies on the human taste bud. Most of California’s lemon crop is owned by his corporation, which is doing genetic experimentation to develop the ideal crop of lemons for baking. They argue about staying true to their vision as documentary makers and telling the real story, or sticking to the Pillsbury story alone.

Soon after, the film derails for a time as the documentary makers learn they have lost their funding. After 20 minutes of deep sighs, desperate phone calls made from phone-booths on the Interstate, and long stretches of one filmmaker interviewing the other as they drive their car down a largely abandoned backwater road, they find their funding and the film gets back on the rails.

At least one of the filmmakers is seen later working in a test kitchen.

The CEO’s lackey (Eddie Izzard) is ever present, and always wearing an oven mitt.

As the competition time grows closer, the CEO’s actions become more erratic. He starts wearing tissue boxes for shoes, he tries adding chocolate chips to his lemon squares, he stops sleeping. A month before the competition he fires his lackey for suggesting they simply buy-out Pillsbury and force them to give him the prize.

In the end, there is an upset. A mystery contestant defeats both the cashier and the CEO with a Chocolate/Lemon Square recipe. He is lauded for his perfect balance of sugar and saffron. And he wears one oven mitt.

Some come on Hollywood. This is an underground cult classic sleeper hit waiting to happen. Sundance, IFC enthusiasts, please feel free to call too.

After all, this bit of genius won’t pay for itself. And my lemon square recipe isn’t quite what it could be.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Friday, January 16, 2004
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Now I Understand Why People Like Cars   

I didn't know they could do this. - Via Datatype

Posted by Sarcasmo on Friday, January 16, 2004
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Well What's the Fun in That?   

A Japanese company is working on a device that will allow users to predetermine the content of their dreams.

If dreams are our brains' way of interpretting and dealing with the issues in our daily lives, is this really a good idea? Couldn't subverting the brain's intentions in dreaming drive the user insane?

Plus, despite the fact that (or maybe in part, because) Pop Culture Boy finds my elaborate dreams disturbing, I quite like them. I don't understand the need to control them.

If you inhibit the scope of your dreams, what are you doing to your waking life?

Found on Neil Gaiman's Journal

Posted by Sarcasmo on Thursday, January 15, 2004
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A Few Distracting Goodies   

from my Bloglines Saved Items folder:

  • Got a Word Question?: Ask a Linguist. Have no question? The archives are a fun browse too. - Via Metafilter

  • Picture Books: Take a break and browse through some gorgeous 15th Century Manuscript Illumination. - Also found on Metafilter

  • So Bad It's Good?: The Agony Booth: A Compendium of bad movies. - By way of J-Walk Blog

  • But How Will I Pick Just One: The British Library implores you to Adopt-a-Book.- Found on Boing Boing

  • So Painfull!: The Proofreader's Hall of Shame. - Lifted from J-Walk Blog

  • The Internet Gets Hungry Too: The Eater of Meaning...another silly web-page translator. See Sarcasmo's Corner Eaten and Regurgitated, with Characters Eaten, and Not Eaten but Pushed Around on the Plate. - Another fine link from J-Walk Blog
  • Posted by Sarcasmo on Thursday, January 15, 2004
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    What I Learned from 28 Days Later   

    (Note: This post will include some spoilers. Generally I am against this practice. However, this movie is no longer in theaters, and I think most people who intended to see it will have done so by now. If you do and haven't, skip the rest of this post. Or at the very least don't whine if I've ruined things for you.)

    Last night Lyn and I got together at Chez Sarcasmo and Pop Culture Boy (aka The Intergalactic Base Of Operations) to catch up, exchange holiday gifts (finally!) and generally enjoy each other's company. Lyn is, among other things, my horror movie buddy. If it's gory and on the big screen, you can expect to find her and I in the audience. So, when we saw 28 Days Later on the On Demand menu, we thought we'd check it out.

    This is because, based on egregious advertising, we thought it was a horror movie. Turns out we were not alone in this assumption, as IMDB categorizes it as a Sci-Fi Horror Thriller. I would re-categorize it as a Slow-paced vaguely science based movie with the occasional zombie. This movie couldn't seem to find it's center. In fact, I would say it suffers the same identity crisis as Night of the Hunter. It starts off as one movie, ends as another, and includes an inexplicable hour long middle section that involves a pastoral romp through the countryside complete with lovely flora and adorable fauna. Because every girl knows there's nothing about the apocalypse that some wild flowers and pretty horses can't fix.


    Maybe it's me. Maybe I've simply had my fill of Last Man on Earth-type apocalypse movies, by which I mean Last - Man - On - Earth - Except - for - Some - Feisty - Sexy - Female - With - Whom - I - Will - Have - A - Relationship - As - We - Battle - Mutant - Humans - Zombies - Who - Are - A - Result - Of - A - Viral - Infection movies. Both The Last Man on Earth and The Omega Man tried this story without success. So why, why did they try and do it again? I'm particularly disappointed because I'm a fan of the dark, quirky films of Danny Boyle (Trainspotting, A Life Less Ordinary, Shallow Grave). Perhaps it was merely the obstensible absence of cutie Ewan McGregor, but if I hadn't seen Boyle's name on the credits, I never would have known this was his film.

    I will admit there were aspects I liked. The quarantine concept was interesting, and I do recognize the powerful fear we have as a culture of the menance of virus. But the film so challenged my suspension of disbelief (and trust me, I can suspend quite a bit, as anyone who has sat through my movie night picks can attest) that I couldn't be bothered to fear anything they threw at me.

    Here, by way of example, are some facts I learned from 28 Days Later...

    1. Right now scientists are working on a virus so powerful it can infect a human in 20 seconds, so contagious it will cause the apocalypse, and so poorly guarded that a group of unarmed animal activists can go in and set the infected animals free.

    2. A coma victim, upon waking after 28 days of no sustenance, care or muscle activity is capable of moving about as though he just had a long nap, and will regain peak physical condition almost immediately.

    3. Bike messengers apparently receive intense commando training as part of their job orientation. This allows them to survey, learn, and infiltrate new landscapes, as well as defeat a trained military troop single-handedly.

    4. Sugar and soda is the best thing for survival (to which any college student can no doubt attest)

    5. After the apocalypse, everyone will value food and water, but hair care products will be plentiful, as no one's hair is out of place.

    6. All bad guys have honor. Or are bumbling and spineless. Or some combination thereof.

    7. This apocalypse has been sponsored in part by Pepsi Cola

    8. Shopping is a fun way for a family to spend the end of the world

    9. The apocalypse will cause clothing to become compact and wrinkle resistant. This is helpful because although everyone carries only one bag, which contains everything they need to survive, they manage to carry enough clean clothing to wear something new, fashionable and wrinkle free everyday.

    10. People who kill violently and without mercy because they are infected with Rage must be killed immediately. Poeple who kill violently and without mercy because they are pissed off are the hero, and get the girl.

    11. A vaguely attractive hero who spends the duration of the film in various stages of undress is not enough to maintain my interest.

    Right. Sorry. Just had to get it out of my system.

    Posted by Sarcasmo on Wednesday, January 14, 2004
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    Time is a Commodity and I Just Don't Have Enough   

    Yesterday, a co-worker came up to me to request marketing give-away materials for an upcoming event. I noticed that for the duration of the conversation, she was squinting. Although I sometime like to think of myself as being nigh unto a Goddess, I don't believe that I actually project an awesome light that makes it difficult for mere mortals to gaze directly upon my countenance.

    I don't recall this co-worker ever having worn glasses--but I wondered if perhaps she wore contacts, and had either forgotten or lost them, which would account for her pronounced squinting. "Or," I thought, "maybe I just look really blurry today."

    Nonsensical? Maybe. But I have been feeling blurry lately...stretched thin. I think this is largely due to the my schedule. I've been keeping up the holiday pace even though the holidays are over. Most nights I come home from work and stay just long enough to change clothes and possibly eat a quick dinner before running out the door. Others I go out directly from work, coming home so late that I have just enough time to check my email before collapsing into bed. And my weekends seem to be chockfull from morning (ok, late morning) to midnight.

    Lately I seem unable to turn down an invitation to do anything. "Sarcasmo," they say, "wanna go to see a movie/hang out/take over the world/have coffee/go out for drinks/go to a show?" I consider it, and if it turns out I'd like to go to see a movie/hang out/take over the world/have coffee/go out for drinks/go to a show/spend time with that person" I agree, then somehow cram it into my already packed schedule.

    It's gotten to the point where I don't have time for my personal projects. Pop Culture Boy and I seem to have to steal time to spend alone together. Time for myself? Hah! And let us not even BEGIN to discuss the condition of my apartment. A free half-hour here and there is no time to do any real cleaning. However, it is ample time to create dozens of tiny disasters (dirty dishes, laundry on the floor, coats thrown on a chair, pocket contents carelessly dumped on the table) that pile up.

    I have a nice apartment. Honestly. It's under all that crap. Somewhere.

    Oh, I know what you're thinking. "Boo-hoo, Sarcasmo. You poor thing, having fun things to do and interesting people to do them with." But you're confused. I'm not complaining about my hectic social life. I'm enjoying it. I delight in it. These are things I *want* to do, not have to do And people I want to do them with. There are no friends I feel I see too much of...but plenty I feel I don't see often enough. No one is twisting my arm to go out.

    The problem is a distinct lack of time. Chip Scanlan says we have 8,760 hours to do things this year (link via Random Walks). That will hardly do. I need more time. There are Christmas presents I still haven't put away. Video games I've not had time enough to sit down and play. For the Love of Monkeys some of them are still shrinkwrapped. (If you're a gamer at all you can understand how much this pains me). And really, it would be a good thing if I could do things like dishes and laundry and taking out the trash. Pop Culture Boy helps, of course, but one can not expect him to do everything.

    The way I see it, I have the following options available to help me beat the time crunch:

    Where is the increased leisure time the technological revolution keeps promising me? I'm ready to collect, thank you very much.

    Posted by Sarcasmo on Wednesday, January 14, 2004
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    A Note for Local Readers   

    On January 24th, the Prince Music Theater will be hosting a Muppet Movie Sing-a-Long. That's right. The Muppets. With Singing. And Audience Costumes.

    I feel the sudden need to own a Lew Zealand or Sweetums costume.

    Posted by Sarcasmo on Tuesday, January 13, 2004
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    A Few Short Things for a Monday   

    Posted by Sarcasmo on Sunday, January 11, 2004
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    In Which Our Heroine Learns She's Not as Shy as She Thought   

    I have always considered myself a shy person. Yes, of course, I understand the irony of claiming to be shy in a format that is available for the whole world to read. I should be more clear. I can be brave and bold as I want to be in writing, safely separated from myself and the potential audience. But in the day-to-day real life area, I'm often much more reserved. I have difficulty in conversation with new people. My legs tremble when I speak in public. I'll always let someone else who was there tell the story or the joke. Being with Pop Culture Boy, who has a natural ease in social situations, it has become very easy for me to be slightly more reserved in person.

    But secretly, in the quiet parts of my mind, I yearn to be a ham. I want desperately to be funny, to be able to command a crowd, to entertain. It's just the idea of people laughing at me rather than with me or because of me coupled with a more general lack of self-confidence that holds me up in this area.

    However, I have begun acknowledging this side of my personality; and that's a start.

    Yesterday Pop Culture Boy, Peccable and I went for a New York adventure. Maybe it was the record breaking cold, or the lack of sleep our new heating situation has brought about, the giddiness of being in the Big Apple or even just the company of those with whom I am very comfortable; but I found the shier side of me give way for the day, and let the ham come out and play.

    We went to New York for, of all things, an audition. Peccable emailed me about a month ago to tell me they were holding voice auditions for a video game in New York, and how did I fancy having my voice in a video game. "What the heck," I thought. "Can't hurt to try." I mentioned the outing to Pop Culture Boy and he decided to audition too. Those of you who know him in real life know he has a talent for voices, and I've been trying for a while to convince him to put together a voice reel. So we signed up, got our audition times, and off the three of us went.

    Now, this game is an "unofficial sequel" of a well-known series (I won't mention it here, as I don't want to jinx anything), and an independent project that is going to be released as freeware; this is not a game being put out by a professional studio, and therefore not a paying gig. Since Peccable found the casting call on the game production website, we had assumed it would just be game fans auditioning for the roles. I had pictured a casual setting: me sitting down with some of the programmers, talking about games, and maybe reading a few of the lines in front of their video camera.

    What I walked into instead was a rehearsal studio space, an audience of ten people behind the video camera, and me having to stand in front of them and perform. There were headshots from some of the previous auditionees on the table. HEADSHOTS. Cripes. Real actors had come out for this thing. Mind you, I did minor in theater arts in college, and I consider it a testament to my acting talent that in four years at school I appeared in only one production. Still, I had only come this far, and had come for the fun of trying...so I went with it.

    I was given three short speeches. They had me do the serious one first. I ennuciated and tried to look at them rather than the paper as often as I could manage. I was everything short of spectacular. "Yes," the director said flatly when I was done, "Well. Now we're going to have you read the comic part for us." They gave me a brief set-up, and told me to give my take on it. I looked over the part, took a deep breath and then something happened: I acted.

    I totally rocked the comic audition. I projected, I made faces, I used my whole body, heck, I used a lot of the room. And they laughed, bless their hearts. The programmers and director and writers and actors laughed at my performance. And when I finished, they burst into enthusiastic applause.

    Damn that felt good.

    Really good.

    Really, really, really, really, really, really good.

    After that they had me read a little of the last speech, (which was received with much less enthusiasm) then let me go. All said, the audition was done in about ten minutes, but the adrenaline lasted all day.

    I won't kid you. I'd love to get a part. I would love to be able to I did a voice in a video game. Or voices. Even if I am only Villager #2 or Thief in Barrel. But even if I don't get cast I'm really glad that I went through the process. In fact, I would audition for another project if given the chance.

    After the audition we caught up with the lovely Trina. Normally when I get a chance to go to Manhattan I am happy to wander aimlessly all day...but the weather being what it was, that was out of the question. So I drug everyone off to Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum. I had previously been to the one in Amsterdam, and have been wanting to go to the New York museum since it opened. And I found I was happy to ham it up there, too. In fact, we all were. I even took the time to make J-Lo blush. It took me several tries, but finally asking her about Ben Affleck did the trick.

    Pop Culture Boy, Peccable and I ended our day at Mars 2112, where we travel through time and space, have dinner with aliens and play video games to our hearts content. We arrived around 4pm, which meant we were one of the only tables there without children gambling around...making us fair game for the aliens who were tired of playing silly games with the little kids. Normally I am the one who stops this sort of silliness when it starts, and many times trying to reign Pop Culture Boy and/or Peccable in. This time, however, I took the alien on. Suffice it to say I Pop Culture Boy and Peccable seemed ready to crawl under the table by the time I was done talking to the strangely-dressed, frustrated actor about human mating customs, whether or not our table would be mating that night (and how many of us), would the three of us would be willing to perform sex acts for their scientists on our dinner table (post meal, as we would need our energy) and whether or not it could be projected on the large screen TV in front of the restaurant. In the end, the alien excused himself, clearly having run out of ideas to embarrass me. I had to then restrain myself from approaching one of the other performers and telling them that as a human they should go back and demand something other than a red shirt if they wanted to survive the night.

    I'm not saying I'm a changed woman...that I will suddenly be a social luminary, the life of the party. But I've given new voice to the goofier side of myself..and gosh do I like it.

    Posted by Sarcasmo on Sunday, January 11, 2004
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    Help Wanted: Minions   

    This morning I took the Which Evil Villain Bad Habit Are You? Quiz. Although my results were disturbing (and clearly inaccurate, as I will never be thwarted. Never! Mu-ha-ha-ha), I must admit the quiz started me thinking.

    Peccable and I have had several conversations about the unbearably clever ideas we have for inventions, adventures, and general world conquest. (These usually end with Pop Culture Boy shaking his head and backing slowly out of the room). Our main problem (and Humanity's Greatest Reprieve), of course, is that we can be terribly lazy when it comes to doing the actual work. There are video games to be played, after all. Movies to be watched. Sofas to be sat on. These are important agendas we simply cannot ignore.

    The answer is simple. What's needed are minions. Lots of eager beaver little minions willing to do our biding while I laze around ruling the world.

    We. I mean while we rule the world. Of course.


    The economy being what it is, I'm sure there will be many of you clamoring to apply. Please be aware while there are many minion positions available (what's an evil empire without it's army?), there will be a rigorous screening process.

    Positions to be filled: General Minions, Sycophant Minions, Brainy-Minions (must be smart enough not to be too intelligent for their own good), Brawn-y-Minions, Factory-Minions (for building, assembling, and otherwise making wonderful devices to delight and intrigue us while baffling our enemies), Puppet-Leader Minions, and many more.

    General Qualifications:

    Other Details:

    Duties May Include (but are not limited to):

    Compensation: Although there is no fiscal or medical compensation available, all minions will receive the following:

    Interested parties should make inquires at the secret lair. Please use the service entrance. Must provide own scuba suit, steaks laced with tranquilizers and one-man rocket-ship for access.

    We will not be held responsible for any injuries/deaths/discomfort of individuals attempting to locate or gain access to secret lair.

    *For those of you who are concerned about Pop Culture Boy's fate after the world conquest, have no fear. As my mate and consort he shall be well comfortably treated and well cared for. Chances are he will be given a ludicrous salary (all the better to buy me presents!) and an honorary position, such as "Pop Culture Emissary" or "Sultan of Tact" [an ironic position]...or even "Sultan of Swing" if he would like. (Our original intention was to allow him to take over the world (letting him do all the necessary work), then snatch it from him. But we have no patience.)

    Posted by Sarcasmo on Thursday, January 08, 2004
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    So Much For Serenity   

    Yes, I know. The new layout has broken everything. Argh.

    No time to fix it now. Will try and work it out later.

    If anyone knows what the issue is, please let me know.

    Posted by Sarcasmo on Wednesday, January 07, 2004
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    Well Now I Know Why the Mooninites Are So Angry   

    Ah, the Moon. It inspires poetry, ehnances romance, ignites imagination and stimulates science. And, according to CABUM, it is a danger to all mankind.

    Citing Madness, Werewolves, and the unnatural thrall in which the Moon holds the sea, CABUM is determined to stop the threat to Earth by blowing up the Moon.

    Sadly I've not seen their alleged informercials, but I do like the way their mind works when it comes to summoning support:
    Other things you can do include shaking your fist at the moon each night in a show of defiance, shouting, "Damn you, Moon!" and spreading the word to your neighbors. Also, be on the lookout for those tainted with the aura of the moon, be they criminally insane or ravaging hairy monsters.

    After all, who among us hasn't raised their fist to the moon from time to time?

    Found on J-Walk Blog

    Posted by Sarcasmo on Wednesday, January 07, 2004
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    Feeling Spacey   

    Thanks to the magic of photography, today the universe is your oyster:

    Posted by Sarcasmo on Tuesday, January 06, 2004
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    You Say It's Your Birthday!   

    Take a moment and wish Peccable a happy birthday.

    Or else.

    Happy Birthday, Peccable!

    Posted by Sarcasmo on Monday, January 05, 2004
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    What You Can't Say   

    Paul Graham has some interesting things to say about the way we think, speak, and censor ourselves; and what society has to do with it.

    Via Metafilter

    Posted by Sarcasmo on Monday, January 05, 2004
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    The Crane Game   

    You know those crane machines, often found in arcades and grocery stores across the country? Many people think they are a scam, but Pop Culture Boy excels at them. It is his best game playing skill (next to whack-a-mole) and I have a small army of stuffed animals to prove it. In fact, I can think of maybe two times in our whole 8 years together that he hasn't won me something from one of those machines.

    I think his big secret is being able to find the one item that is (a) not too heavy for the crane and (b) isn't buried too far beneath other items. His prowess at these games is truly a wonder to behold.

    I'm just hoping he never locks his crane on one of these.

    Found on Metafilter

    Posted by Sarcasmo on Monday, January 05, 2004
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    Go Donuts, Go..   

    Do not watch this before your morning coffee.

    - Via Everlasting Blort

    Posted by Sarcasmo on Sunday, January 04, 2004
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    A Couple of Amusements   

    Posted by Sarcasmo on Saturday, January 03, 2004
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    Nice Starts   

    Ms. Vis Major posits that how you spend New Year's Eve is indicative of the tone of your new year. Since I actually put this theory forth to Pop Culture Boy this morning (great minds, and all that), I thought I'd give you a little preview of what my new year is likely to hold:

    1. More singing and dancing

    2. Sleep deprivation

    3. A little drama

    4. More time in lounging pajamas

    5. Wine over beer

    6. Childhood memories being both celebrated and skewed

    7. Movies (good and campy)
    8. Excitement made of more flash than danger

    9. Good times with Family and Friends

    10. A very, very messy apartment (proving to be a perennial favorite)

    Happy New Year to All! May this year treat you better than the last.

    Posted by Sarcasmo on Friday, January 02, 2004
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    One of My Favorite Parts About Each New Year:   

    Google's Year-End Zeitgeist

    Posted by Sarcasmo on Friday, January 02, 2004
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    Sheer Vanity

    100 Things About Me
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