Alien vs Predator: Requiem

I just watched the trailer for the movie. It's more violent than the entire AvP 1! Watch at your own risk.

Alien v Predator

Anyone Got Any Cheese?

So last Thursday I had to leave the uniform sales store after work and drive up here to Tampa so I could attend a meeting at the college on Friday. I spent the weekend at home, and at 6am Monday drove back to the store. Then, Tuesday night after work I drove back up here for an all day meeting today. Tomorrow morning I drive back to the store to work Thursday and Friday, and then I drive back up here after work so Mrs. Marius can work a double on Saturday at the sports bar-and-grill where she has finally begun working. Then I start at the college Monday morning. Summer vacation my ass!

I know, bitch, bitch, bitch.

Marius the Venting

And Another One Gone, And Another One Gone...

You know, if that idiot president would just appoint people qualified to do the jobs he puts them in, these things just wouldn't happen. Attorney General Alberto Gonzales resigned today. I suppose one could find something to admire in how long he held on, but then again there are animals that, once latched on to an enemy, must be killed to get them to release. So, tenacity does not necessarily equal courage. So long, Alberto. Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.

And now, to cleanse the pallette, I give you some unbearably cute hedgehog babies.





If you want to read the story of how these babies are treating a cleaning brush like their mother, go here.

Idiot II: Darwin's Revenge

Now if only we could get our president to take his cell phone for a walk.

From KSAT, San Antonio.

Texting Man Avoids One Train, Struck By Another

CINCINNATI -- A man sending a text message avoided being hit by a train going in one direction only to be struck by another train, reported WLWT-TV in Cincinnati.

Witnesses told police the man was looking down at his cell phone as he crossed some railroad tracks around 9 a.m. in Elmwood Place.

Witnesses said the man waited for a southbound train to pass, put his head down and started walking across the tracks. The man apparently did not see or hear a northbound train as it approached, witnesses said.

"It's one of those things, you kind of see it coming, but you don't think it's going to happen like that, and the way he was walking and stuff, and I saw that train closing in, I honestly thought he had made it," said witness Mike Billups.

The victim, whose name has not been released, was taken to University Hospital with undisclosed injuries.

Have Another 'Brownie', Mr. President?

Will no one impeach this moron president before he kills more people? For the last two weeks I've been sympathizing with both the victims and the owners of the Crandall Canyon Mine tragedy. I thought that the officials in charge knew what they were doing, and were doing everything they could, and that the whole thing was just a terrible, unfortunate, unpreventable accident. Now, it seems, the ghost of FEMA past is raising its ugly head again. There is a position in the federal government called the Mine and Health Safety Administrator, and the person in that position is Richard Stickler. Richard Stickler had twice been refused the position by Congress, even during the Republican lead years, due to his record as a mining exec. His safety record is riddled with fatalities and "...an incident rate that was often twice the national average." So, rather than search for someone who could actually do the job right, The Shrub Prince slipped Stickler into the job as a recess appointment. You might remember that little presidential loophole when Congress told Bush no to John Bolton as UN Ambassador, then Bush appointed him anyway while Congress was on vacation. And that went just swimmingly, didn't it?

So, even though federal law requires the mine administration to handle all communication in such cases, the feds sat on their hands for two days while Bob Murray held numerous press conferences where he spewed vitriol at scientists, bile at the press, and false hopes at the families of the victims.

Heckuva job, Bobby...and you too, Mr. President.

Marius

It's Alive!!!!

My cell phone lives...and there was much rejoicing.


Marius the Greatly Relieved

Imadoofus!

So last night, after a rather nasty encounter with some canine created 'debris' I needed to rinse off the shorts I was wearing. So I tossed them in the shower, turned on the water, and let them get good and wet. I picked them up, and began to scrub out the offending material when I felt, with a sickening realization, the unmistakeable shape of my cell phone in the pocket. I did what I was supposed to, and removed the battery and left it open all night. Alas, it was not working this morning, so I must to Radio Shack to find the tiniest of screwdrivers so I can more fully open the thing to let it dry out. So if you can't get in touch with me this weekend, I'm not being standoffish, my phone is on the clothesline.

D'oh!

Marius the Dumbass

Ahhh, that's better.

Good morning, Dr. Floyd. I'm feeling much better now.

;-)

Pity Party

I'm homesick. I miss my wife. I miss my cats. I miss my bed, and my stuff, and doing theatre, and I'm just generally bummed and depressed.

Just fyi.

Kisses,
Marius the Wallowing

Exit: The Emperor

Scene: On the bridge of the Imperial Star Destroyer The Decider. A nervous communications officer approaches the dark clad figure gazing out at the stars.

"M-my Lord?"

"What is it, Private?"

"Um, it's Ensign, sir. This is a naval vessel."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Whadya want?"

"It's the Emperor, sir. He commands you to contact him."

"Uh, right now?"

"Yes, sir."

"Shoot, I was just fixin to start my next vacation! Well, steer the ship outta this asterisk shower so's I can get a good signal."

"Um..."

"Is there a problem, Lieutenant?"

"Uh...that's...um, I mean no sir, no problem."

The great ship rises gracefully out of the asteroid field and levels off. In the Dark Lord's inner sanctum we find him outside the looming meditation pod/communications center/playstation.

"Now," he thinks out loud, "how do I get this darned thing open? Uh, Open Sesame! No, um, Abra Cadabra! Shoot! Oh, wait, now I rember." With that, he claps his hands twice and the massive top half of the chamber lifts off, exposing the faux leather Easy Boy that is the Dark Lord's sanctuary. He climbs into the chair, and punches the buttons on his dark remote.

"Herro, Fong's Take Out! E'ryting ready in fi-teen minute or it free. What you want?"

"Dang!" he severs the connection, and dials again. The pasty face and sunken eyes of The Emperor appear on the plasma screen before him. He grins. It only took two tries this time. He bows as low as he can while still reclining, and speaks.

"What is thy building, my mustard?"

The Emperor rolls his eyes. "I thought I told you to knock off the fancy talk. You suck at it!"

"Yes, my mas...um, I mean yeah, ok. Whaddya want?"

"Darth Goofus, you have served me adequately for the last 6 years. Your triumphs have been my triumphs, and your failures have been...your failures. But now the time has come for you to govern on your own."

"But Master, you know I'm not ready for that. How will I know what to say? Or when to say it? Or even how to make it be said rightly?

"You will still have the attack droid, Cheney, and the Dark Jedi, Gonzales."

"But Cheney scares the bejeezus out of me, and Darth Alberto's amnesia gets worse every day."

"These are, to coin a phrase, thy problems now. Work it out, Idiot Apprentice."

"Well, there is always Princess Condi. She'll stick by me."

Suddenly a burst of static obscures the screen. Darth Goofus bangs the remote uselessly on the padded arm of his chair, when just as suddenly the image resolves. The Emperor now appears bedecked in what appears to be sports attire, with a baseball cap reversed on his head. Around his neck hangs a large golden medallion depicting the Death Star, and next to him with her arm around his waist and wearing a metal bikini is Princess Condi. The Emperor speaks.

"Yeah, about Condi. She's going with me."

"But...but...but..."

"Nice motorboat impression, foo!"

"But, will I ever see you again?"

"True, dat, Homey. But me and the Condi Ho gots to get moving."

"Where will you go, my Master?"

"Where ever I wants. And don't call me that no more. From now on you call me...MC Rove, bitch!"

As the screen darkens, a plaintive wail echoes in the metal corridors of The Decider, and none who hear it can repress a giggle.

Fade to black.

Blue Oyster Cult

If you know who BOC are, you'll dig this. If you don't, then watch this and you'll understand why I've been a fan since 1981.

This About Sums It Up

You Say You Want a Revolution...

A few years ago I had a debate with my friend Jenn over what it would take to revolutionize the world. What sort of paradigm shift would be necessary to completely rework the fabric of human interaction. Being an MBA she argued along economic lines, whereas I went for a more fundamental approach. It seems to me that the primary driving force of nearly all human endeavors involves the production, distribution, and use of energy. Aside from artificial markets like diamonds or greeting cards, the most lucrative fields involve the procurement and production of energy, ie electrical and locomotive forces. This had been long percolating in the back of my mind as a somewhat different thought experiment as I tried to figure out what one factor of the Star Trek universe was fundamentally different from our own world. Then it dawned on me. It wasn't the technology, it was the readily available terawatts of power that everyone in the Star Trek universe could access. On a very basic level most of the technology in Star Trek is feasible, but most require more energy than can be reasonably generated. (although that nasty little Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle makes transporters highly unlikely) So it seems to me that a clean, renewable, and readily available energy source would completely re-weave the fabric of human existence. Once the quest for control over energy was moot, what loftier ideals could be pursued with equal vigor?

Of course, I don't have any idea what that source might be, but this is just a thought experiment, not a model for reality. Tell me what you think. What ways do you imagine the world could be changed for the better?

Hasta,
Marius

Whaddya Think?

Ok, I have finally decided to try to get out into the higher reaches of the blogosphere with a more topical blog. I have a video blog idea that someday I'll start, but hardware is the problem with that, but until then I am trying to choose between two themes. One is to be called something like 'Moderate Majority' or something along those lines, and it would be a political blog attempting to motivate those of us who populate the vast, ignored ideological areas between the cacophony of the left and right extremists. The other idea, whose title eludes me for the nonce, would be somewhat akin to Mythbusters, wherein I would assail 'common wisdom' and attempt to debunk the plethora of 'they say' misinformation out there.

So, whaddya think? Good idea? Bad idea? Which sounds the most interesting to you? And do you have a better idea for a title? I won't be shutting down The Corner, but I'd like to see if I can get the elephant to hear me.

Grammatical Hypocrisy

During my brief tenure as a high school teacher I tried to instill some modicum of empathy in my students, with varying degrees of disastrous failure, by insisting that they not use two popular words in a pejorative manner. Those words were 'Gay' and 'Retarded'. We went around and around about this, with some of them trying to find loopholes and others just refusing to comply, but some of them actually seemed to understand why it is wrong to use those words as blanket descriptors of that which is undesirable. Especially the day we had a guest lighting designer who is a rather butch lesbian, and one of my little geniuses said something was gay in front of her, and a chill fell over the room as she gave him a look that told him he was tap dancing in a mine field. She very quietly said, 'I beg your pardon?' He wisely backpedalled, and she let it go, but I felt vindicated that one of my kids, at least, might finally have gotten the message, even if it was at the risk of his physical well being.

Now here's the reason for my little confessional here. I think one of the funniest insults is 'retard', and it's lesser used diminutive 'tard'. There is a wonderful show on the Cartoon Network's Adult Swim called Robot Chicken, and the other day I was watching an episode where they were lampooning nature documentaries. It was a three part segment, titled 1. The Mongoose: Nature's Assassin. 2. They Hyena: Nature's A##hole. And 3. The Lemming: Nature's Retard. Last night, as I was trying to go to sleep I kept thinking about the voice-over to the third one, done by a very serious sounding, movie-trailer type bass voice, and I couldn't help but laugh again. Bless me, father.

What about you? Are there any words that you publicly decry, but secretly love?

And yes, it is ungodly early in the morning, so if this post makes little to know sense, mea culpa.

Marius the Undercaffeinated.

The Definition of Sunday

Harry Potter--No Spoilers, I Promise

I just finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I loved it! I'll not dicuss it until all who are reading, or will read it have cleared me to do so, but I will say that it is a very satisfying end to the series. So, if you are in the midst, or about to start, let me know when you are done so I can give my full opinion.

Marius

The End Of The World is Nigh!

Better check those seven seals and watch the sky for angels with bowls, Dick Cheney admitted yesterday that he was wrong about the Iraqi insurgency. In an interview with known hard-baller Larry King, Cheney said he thought that the capture of Saddam and the holding of elections would cripple the insurgency. "That clearly didn't happen," Cheney admitted. "I think the insurgency turned out to be more robust." Ya think?!

What I want to know now is, has anyone checked the White House lawn for pods?