George W. Bush: Jedi Idiot

We join the press conference already in progress.

"Mr. President, do you still say that 'stay the course' is your philosophy for the Iraqi conflict?"

"IIII neeeverrrr said 'staaaay the coooourssssssse." [wave]

"Mr. President, you and nearly every member of your staff has been repeating that phrase at any and all opportunities. And what's with the little hand wave?"

"Youuu will forgeeet that youuuu eveerrr heard us saaaaay that."[wave,wave]

"Um, ok, I'll wave back if that makes you happy, sir. But we have dozens of video clips of you and your staff saying 'stay the course'.

"Dammit, Rove. It's not working. Get Snow in here! Um...ahem...Yooooou will goooo baaack tooooo yoouuuur stuuuuuudio and eraaaaase those videooooos." [wave,wave,wave,wave]

"Mr. President, I'm sure this is all quite amusing to you, but the press has a responsibility to the public to show the truth. I will not erase anything. And I respectfully request that you stop waving at us. Ah, Mr. Snow. Perhaps you can shed some light on things for us?"

"Certainly. We feel that the phrase "stay the course" doesn't capture the dynamism of the tactics America and its allies are employing."

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! He's a Sith! Run for your lives!!!!! NO MORE QUESTIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Racoons, Vampires, and Bears, Oh My!

We just watched a wonderful movie. Over The Hedge is hillarious, fun, silly, and a romp. I don't think I've enjoyed an animated film this much since A Bug's Life. The plot line is pretty formulaic: huckster racoon gets in trouble and takes advantage of a naive group of animals to get him out of it, only to find that they are far more noble than he, but the execution is brilliant. There are more sight gags and inside jokes for the 'grown-ups' than a Bullwinkle episode, and the performances by Bruce Willis, Gary Shandling, Wanda Sykes, Eugene Levy, Catherine O'Hara, and William Shatner(doing a brilliant parody of...William Shatner)are so honest and guileless that you can't help but care about them. Dreamworks has finally made a film that rivals anything Pixar has done, and I think Pixar is the bomb. If you have kids, make this a family evening as we just did. If you don't have kids, pop open or light up the intoxicant of your choice and buckle yourself in for a fun evening. And if you have ever had the pleasure of living with a Rottweiler, just remember the word...play?

It has also been quite some time since I read something I felt compelled to recommend, but my wife turned me on to Night Watch, by Sergei Lukyanenko. It is sort of a Harry Potter for grown ups. The protagonist, Anton, is a member of the Night Watch, a supernatural police agency dedicated to keeping tabs on the forces of Darkness in the world. There is also a Day Watch, who are to keep an eye on the forces of Light in the world, and the two watches make sure that the balance is maintained, while at the same time trying to tip it in their favor. The book is actually a compilation of three novellas translated from the original Russian by Andrew Bromfield, and that is, in my opinion, its greatest strength. The characters are well defined, and the stories well told, but it is obvious that this was never meant to be for anyone but Russians. It is totally unselfconscious, with no comparisons between East and West; no hint that the author even considered that Americans would one day read it. The translation is, on occasion, somewhat inelegant, but the tales unfold rapidly and in a way that makes you truly care about the characters, and yet is quintisentially Russian. I highly recommend this tome, and eagerly look forward to the sequals that are already published in Russia, and will get here hopefully by January. (oh, there is a movie out, but me wife tells me that unless you have read the book, it makes little to no sense.)

Ok, that's all for now. Night night, y'all.

Marius

Canine vs Feline

Shamelessly swiped from PIKARESQUE.

For all you pet lovers out there...

EXCERPTS FROM A DOG'S DIARY
Day number 180
8:00 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
9:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE!
9:40 am - OH BOY! A WALK! MY FAVORITE!
10:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE!
11:30 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
12:00 noon - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE!
1:00 pm OH BOY! THE YARD! MY FAVORITE!
4:00 pm - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE!
5:00 PM - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
5:30 PM - OH BOY! MOM! MY FAVORITE!
Day number 181
8:00 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
9:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE!
9:40 am - OH BOY! A WALK! MY FAVORITE!
10:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE!
11:30 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
12:00 noon - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE!
1:00 pm OH BOY! THE YARD! MY FAVORITE!
4:00 pm - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE!
5:00 PM - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
5:30 PM - OH BOY! MOM! MY FAVORITE!
Day number 182
8:00 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
9:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE!
9:40 am - OH BOY! A WALK! MY FAVORITE!
10:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE!
11:30 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
12:00 noon - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE!
1:00 pm OH BOY! THE YARD! MY FAVORITE!
1:30 pm - ooooooo. bath. bummer.
4:00 pm - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE!
5:00 PM - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
5:30 PM - OH BOY! MOM! MY FAVORITE

EXCERPTS FROM A CAT'S DIARY
DAY 752 - My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling
objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry
cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and
the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of
furniture...Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant.
DAY 761 - Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their
feet while they were walking almost succeeded, must try this at the top
of the stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile
oppressors,I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite
chair...must try this On their bed.
DAY 765 - Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body in
attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike
fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a
good little cat I was... Not working according to plan.
DAY 768 - I am finally aware of how sadistic they are. For no good
reason I was chosen for the water torture. This time however it included
a burning foamy chemical called "shampoo." What sick minds could invent
such a liquid. My only consolation is the piece of thumb still LODGED
between my teeth.
DAY 771 - There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was
placed in solitary throughout the event, however, I could hear the noise
and smell the foul odor of the glass tubes they call "beer." More
importantly I overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of
"allergies." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.
DAY 774 - I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe
snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to
return. He is obviously a half-wit. The bird on the other hand has got
to be an informant, and he speaks with them regularly. I am certain he
reports my activities. Due to his current placement in the metal room
his safety is assured. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time...

Justice is Served

A vicious animal has been put down. Yesterday, at 6:13pm Danny Rollings was declared dead. I don't normally advocate the death penalty, but in this case it was totally, unquivocally, and absolutely justified. Most of you probably remember reading about the Gainesville murders back in 1990. I remember because not only did I attend the University of Florida for my freshman year, but I still had/have lots of friends in G'ville. I feared for them all, for this monster didn't just grab coeds off the street, he invaded apartments, killing, mutilating, and then posing the dead before moving on to kill again. There could be no rehabillitating this creature, no punishment harsh enough to fit his crimes. Even the civilized man I try to be would not have objected had the execution been less humane. A lot less. You can read more details, should you wish, here.

Perhaps the souls of those five young people will rest a bit more easily now.

Marius

A Visitor...From Beyond

  


ANTIGO, Wis. (AP) — A toddler who went fishing for a stuffed cartoon character in a vending machine wound up sharing space with the toy inside the game's plastic cubicle.
Three-year-old Robert Moore tried to scoop out a stuffed replica of SpongeBob SquarePants with the vending machine's plastic crane on Saturday, but had no luck on his first attempt.

While his grandmother, Fredricka Bierdemann, turned her back to get another dollar for a second try, Robert took off his coat and squeezed through an opening in the machine. He landed in the stuffed animal cube.

"I turned around and looked for him, and he said, 'Oma, I'm in here," Bierdemann said. "I thought I would have a heart attack."

Store employees couldn't find a key to the machine, so Robert waited while the Anti-go Fire Department was called.

"He was having a ball in there, hugging all the stuffed animals," Bierdemann said. "He was so good-natured, but I was shaking like a leaf."

Firefighters broke one lock but then spotted two latches inside the plastic cube. They passed a screwdriver to Robert, who eventually freed himself.

He went home safe — but without a stuffed Sponge Bob.

Copyright 2006 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
Posted 10/25/2006 9:33 AM ET
Updated 10/25/2006 12:20 PM ET

Arcane Times...Way Funny!!

 


See more here. 

The Quality of Mercy

This morning I did battle with a spider. Not an eensy-weensy spider, but one of those huge, brown arachnids whose very presence dredges up primal terrors from the times before men could speak. This hapless beast committed no crime other than to find itself trapped in my bathtub at 4:30am. It's odd how the human mind works. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that large though the creature was by spider standards, compared to me it was a speck. A mere two inches or so of chitenous exoskeleton and a few grams of internal goo. Yet to my mind it was a hulking leviathan; too large to slay outright lest it fight back and give me a terminal case of the screaming heebie-jeebies.

I pondered how best to dispatch my foe. The proverbial shoe? The can of bug spray out in the carport? Ignore it and hope it just finds a gap in the dimensions and vanishes from my reality? No. None of those were acceptable. Then it hit me. THE DRAIN!! But the cover over the drain has holes far too small for this behemoth bug, and is secured with a screw in the middle, and my screwdriver is in the bedroom with my sleeping wife. I tried a pair of nail clippers, but the handle was too thick. Then I went to the kitchen to fetch a butter knife...every housewife knows that a butterknife makes an excellent makeshift screwdriver. Upon my return, however, the horror had ramped itself up a notch or three. The alien in my bathtub had made its way from the far end of the tub to rest RIGHT NEXT TO THE DRAIN!!!! Well, attempting to put all of my knowledge of such critters ahead of my dread, I knew that it would ignore me unless I actually touched it, so I unscrewed the drain cover and turned on the water. It put up a valient struggle against the tide, but ultimately gravity and water pressure won. And, tho it may just be a mental balm to ease my bleeding heart liberal guilt, I like to imagine that where ever the water sent the eight-legged interloper, it is filled with lots of yummy roaches and other spider delicacies, and it is a much happier beastie.

And now I have to go take a...gulp...shower.

Pray for me.

Marius the Merciful

Ahhh, memories.

  


See more at Dork Tower.

Silence, Coffee, and the Occasional Cat Fart

It's Monday morning. 5:18 to be precise, and it's very quiet in Castle Marius. The only sounds, now that the feline contingent has been sated with compressed picine parts, are the gentle sighing of the fan, and the hum of the fridge. My synapses, fired by the gift of Juan Valdez, feel like an old Frankensteinian lightning machine just waiting for Eyegore to give them a whack. 'Not the third switch' I seem to hear. Screw it! Yes, the third switch!!

Mark Foley. Many, many years ago I did a play with him at the Lake Worth Playhouse. He was a nice guy, and despite being a Republican I always thought he was one of the good ones. But then again, I suppose Job himself would deliver himself unto evil if he stayed in DC long enough. I do find it hillarious, though, that all these Republican and conservative spin-meisters who are trying to, if you'll pardon the pun, blow this whole thing off as unimportant are the same ones who, just a few short years ago, were beating their breasts and claiming that a blow-job was the end of government as we knew it, and that the recipient should be rode out of town on a rail. My how the worm hath turned.

The Buccaneers finally won a game this weekend in a 14-13 squeaker over the Bengals. Things will be a bit happier in T-Town today.

I have created a new character in Champions:Return to Arms, which is Mrs. Marius and my new video game obsession. His name is Grapthar, and he wields a mighty hammer. (if you get this joke, let me know that I'm not the only obscure geek out here)

As a recent convert to I-tunes I was dismayed to find that Harvey Danger's song Flagpole Sitter is not available. Dang!

Sand makes for a very boring conversation, unless, of course, the words 'ass crack' are involved.

So over the last few days Mrs. Marius has been trying to get me to decide if we are going to stay here in Tampa or keep looking for something better. She wants to go to Culinary Arts school, and can't start it if I can't stay in one job for more than a year. So, I'm going to bite the bullet and stay a high school teacher for the time being, unless something better comes along that does not require us to move.

Pray for me. ;-)

Well, after perusing the headlines and finding nothing but doom and gloom, I'm going to sign off now. Y'all take care out there now. Keep those cards and letters coming.

Good night, everybody!

hee hee
Marius

Ubergeek Roundup

Greetings, Folks, and welcome to an all-nerd special here at The Corner. I have come across two stories that are both 'interesting' and 'fascinating'. (heh heh, I kill me) Uh, ahem, sorry. Anyway, some of you may be aware that Christie's is auctioning off some of the grooviest Star Trek props, models, and memoribilia ever sold this weekend. It is the stuff of legend, such as an original ILM built model of Enterprise-D, and the reconstructed Constitution Class captain's chair from the DS9 episode Trials and Tribble-ations. I've been reading the press releases over the last few months, and lamenting my poor lotto choosing skills, since most of this stuff is expected to go for thousands of dollars, but no one expected the financial depths of some of the more well heeled Treknerds out there. The above mentioned 78" long model starship, listed at between $25,000 and $35,000 eventually sold for an astronomical $576,000!! And the captain's chair, which is only ten years old and a copy, went for $62,400. So far the auction has racked up $4.9 million. Read more about it here.


Diving deeper into the geek end of the pool, here is a tale of some gamers with mad carpentry skills, and an abundance of free time. Behold the ultimate gaming table.

  

It has 6 gaming stations, each with it's own dimmable light, coaster, dice rolling pit, and glass plate under which the GM can put handouts and such. Plus each station has a MDS, or Message Delivery System, port where the GM can send secret messages via a pool table like system of tubes. The GM's station has two dice pits, places for miniatures and papers, and is set up for either a desktop computer or laptop. The table top itself is sturdy enough for a person to stand on, and covered with linoleum. It is quite impressive, and...are you listening D...the builders will soon be publishing plans for the thing. Go here for more pics. It is truly impressive.

Ok, nerdlings and nerdettes, I'm going to go surf the Christie's site and weep quietly to myself.

Live long and prosper.
;-)

A Saturday Funny

 


Here's a tidbit from Alien Loves Predator, an online comic I frequent, that I think you all will appreciate.

Marius 

Shine, Jesus, Shine.(really)

As you have probably heard, a terrible thing happened in an Amish school in Pennsylvania on Monday. An armed man went in, sent all the adults and boys away, then shot 10 little girls, killing five, and leaving three in critical condition, and two in serious condition, before killing himself. The reasons for this unthinkable act are as numerous as they are puzzling, and listening to the reports on NPR yesterday had me on the verge of tears several times, but what really pushed me over the edge was when the reporter mentioned that not only were the people in the community praying for the families of the slain children...they were also praying for the family of the gunman. If this were days, or weeks after the fact I would not have given it a second thought. 'Good' Christians are supposed to forgive, at least superficially in front of others once the rage has worn off. But here are a group of Christians who, in the fullness of their grief and horror, finding room in their hearts for forgiveness. A newspaper reporter named Daniel Burke spent Tuesday evening with an Amish family named Mary and Ben. Here is a tiny bit of the conversation they had:

As Mary and Ben explained the day's violence to their sons, they emphasized the importance of forgiveness and trusting in God.

"I just feel bad for the gunman," said Mary's husband, Ben, 41. "He had a mother and a wife and a soul and now he's standing before a just God."

I have seen religious hypocrisy that was medieval in its scope, but this is one of the very few times that I've seen real faith in action. The above conversation is typical of several reports I've heard coming from the Amish about this horrible event. While I'm not about to give up my tv or computer and go buy a wide-brimmed black hat, it is somewhat comforting to see that in the midst of trying to sort out this terrible crime there is a ray of divine light shining through. Maybe, just maybe there is a slight hope for the souls of humanity after all.

Marius

Invasion of the Demon Teddy Bears!

Well, we seem to have another theme going here at The Corner. On the contraceptive front it appears that a small island off the coast of Australia is experiencing a bit of a wildlife conundrum. A population explosion of koalas is threatening to divest Kangaroo Island of all its eucalyptus trees. The problem is that until the 1920's, when 18 of the adorable marsupials were brought to the island, there were no koalas there. Since they were not a part of the island's natural ecosystem, no koala-eating predators exist on the island. There are now over 28,000 of the little guys chomping away at a rate of nearly a pound of leaves per bear a day. Pretty soon they'll literally eat themselves out of house and home.

Of course the obvious answer to the problem, open season on Kangaroo Island koalas, has met with massive protests, so scientists have taken another tack...contraceptive implants. They have had great success with implanting a canine contraceptive between the shoulder blades of female koalas which keeps them sterile for up to two years. The process is completely painless, requiring no sedation, but is very time and effort intensive since koalas are arboreal beasties. It can take more than an hour just to get up into the trees where they spend most of the day sleeping. So the scientists, in conjunction with the Australian government, have been developing a dart that can be fired into the koalas' thigh that will drastically reduce the time, and thus the cost, of putting the Kangaroo Island koalas on the pill. Now I have to wonder just how they can tell, from dozens of feet below, which bears are female. Maybe it's the nightcap and face cream that gives them away.

Contraceptively yours,
Marius

For the Men to Live Up To, and The Ladies to be Enlightened.

This is a bit long, but quite amusing.