Dammit!

BONES

(continuing)

Now, you open this one.

Kirk starts to obey.

KIRK

I'm almost afraid to. What is

it, Klingon aphrodisiacs?

BONES

No.

They drink. The package is opened: a pair of gold

"Ben Franklin" half-glasses. (N.B.: Romulan ale is

an INSTANT DRUNK: both men react.)

KIRK

Oh, Bones, this is... charming.

BONES

For most patients your age, I

usually recommend Retinax Five.

KIRK

I'm allergic to Retinax.

BONES

Exactly. Cheers! Happy birthday.

He toasts.

KIRK

(reacts)

Well, I don't know what to say -

BONES

Thank you.

An awkward silence.

Of all the scenes in Star Trek, this was the one I least wanted to recreate in real life. (well, ok, maybe the space hippies is really the top of the list...and then there is 'Brain and brain, what is brain?!' and then there is that whole transporter accident at the beginning of ST:TMP) Ok, so maybe it's not at the top of the list, but it's the most relevant today. I went to the eye doctor for only the second time in my life to be told that my eyes are perfect...except they don't work so well anymore. I need fucking glasses!!! Apparently as you get into your forties your lenses flatten and become less flexible, therefore making it harder to focus. My distance vision is so far unaffected, but up close I'm Mr.freaking Magoo. What forced me to get this looked into was my habit, always of the evening, of reading in bed. I like to read on my stomach, with the book propped against the headboard. Well, last night I could not get the book far enough away from my eyes without falling off the end of the damned bed! So today I got lights shone into, air puffed onto, and stinging drops dripped into my peepers, and the verdict is...you're old!

I know that those of you reading this who have worn glasses or contacts all your lives are probably doing that 'here is the world's smallest violin playing just for you' thing, and I suppose I don't blame you, but I am not the most perfect specimen of Homo Sapiens Sapiens, and I have always been proud and grateful for my slightly better than perfect eyesight. I think I can relate to how Kal-El feels when he uncovers those pesky glowing green rocks. And I know I'll get over this quite soon, but right now I'm going to wallow in my self pity, have another beer, and wait for the realization that I can still see in the dark better than most humans to bob to the surface again.

Myopically yours,
Marius

This is just too wonderful.

This is from USATODAY.com


Christian group backs off case against blog parody
By Jon Swartz, USA TODAY
SAN FRANCISCO — A Christian group that promotes heterosexuality Thursday quietly dropped its beef against a blogger who poked fun at it.
Exodus International initially claimed the altered image of one of its billboards by Justin Watt infringed its copyright. But Exodus is no longer pursuing the matter after Watt stopped using its "watermark" logo, Exodus President Alan Chambers said.

Watt, operator of the Justinsomnia blog, says he exercised free speech when he parodied the Exodus billboard, which says, "Gay? Unhappy? www.exodus.to." Wyatt re-created the billboard on his site so it read, "Straight? Unhappy? www.gay.com."

(Exodus uses ".to" as its domain suffix because ".com" was not available.)

Watt, 26, a Web developer in Northern California who enlisted the aid of the American Civil Liberties Union and high-powered law firm Fenwick & West, has posted his blog for four years. He posted the parody Sept. 19 because he found Exodus' message "offensive." A lawyer representing Exodus sent Watt a cease-and-desist letter on March 2.

The dust-up has made Watt a cause célèbre among bloggers. More than 40 other websites now carry the spoof.

Had the dispute escalated, it would have extended the debate over fair use of copyrighted material beyond print and electronic media and to blogs, says copyright attorney Tom Zellerbach.

Companies frequently ask websites to remove images and text out of concern they infringe copyrighted material. But high-profile cases involving bloggers have been rare, Zellerbach and other lawyers say.

The incident gained attention because Watt understood his rights and contacted an attorney, said ACLU lawyer Ann Brick, who represented him. "We don't know how often people get cease-and-desist letters and pull material without knowing their rights," she said.

"Just as the First Amendment allows Exodus to post its billboard, it gives Justin the right to post a parody," Brick said.

A Tale of P's and V's

So I have renamed Starbuck. Henceforth he shall be referred to as PV, or pesky varmint. He has hit his 'teen' period and is doing his level best to make sure that no one wastes any of that lovely darkness by sleeping. Nor is he to fail in his mission to make sure that everything that can be on the floor, will be on the floor. He has also gone from silent mewing, where he would open his mouth as if to speak but no sound would come out, to a nearly constant litany of under-his-breath feline muttering whenever he gets told no. It's actually quite funny when I shoo him out of a cupboard, or off of the turtle tank, and he walks away going 'mewp...squeak, squeak...turns and looks at me...meeeeewwp!' Artemis is feeling much better since she's been on the anti-biotics, although we will both be very happy when the pills are gone. She even chased the lazer this morning while I was trying to distract PV from more dining room demolishion. It was totally worth giving up the war to get a happier kitty.

Our human varmint is on her Spring Break this week, and is spending it with her grandparents, so Mrs. Marius and I went to the movies the other night. We saw V for Vendetta. Now, I must give some background history here. Given my entertainment proclivities, and my circle of friends, one would imagine that I am a big comic book fan. Alas, 'tis not so. In fact there are more words in todays blog than there are comic books I have read. I just never got into them. This did not really matter much to me until recently when the X-Men movies came out. Die hard fans of the comics were sorely diappointed in the films, but since I had no preconceptions I loved them. The same can be said for V for Vendetta. I never read the graphic novel(as comics are now wont to be called)and I understand the author is displeased with the final film, but we loved it! It takes place in a totalitarian England of the not-too-distant future where an American civil war, and further Middle Eastern aggression have allowed a dictator who promises security over freedom to come to power. What follows is a rather elaborate story of a young girl, Natalie Portman shining as I have never seen her do before, who is in the wrong place at the wrong time, as she gets accidentally caught up in the machinations of a mysterious, masked vigillante called V. It is V's intention to bring down the Hitler-esque regime, and restore freedom to the Motherland. Hugo Weaving(Agent Smith, Elrond) plays V, and though we never really see his face, his nearly Shakespearean dialogue, and hermit/nerd cum superhero performance endear him to the viewer even as he wreaks a terrible revenge on those who stole his...well, let me not spoil anything. I highly recommend this flick, and will wait anxiously for the DVD.

So go forth, gentle readers, get some of that Spring air into your lungs, pet a cat, and get thee to the multiplex.

Here endeth the lesson.

Marius

Makes You Think

I didn't write this, but it definately bears sharing.
Marius




I AM ARE YOU



I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.

I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.

I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.

We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.

I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.

I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I
wish they could adopt me.

I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.

I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.

We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.

I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.

I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.

I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.

I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.

I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.

I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.

I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.

I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I didn?t have to always deal with society hating me.

I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don't believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.

I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.

repost this if you belive homophobia is wrong

I Am the man who cry's for all the people above me
Because i do not Judge them and thay are all peacefull
people made by the real GOD that love's them all....

GOD LOVE ALL HE MADE ALL SO STOP THINKING THAT YOU KNOW WHAT GOD WANT'S AND LET PEOPLE LIVE....

WTF?!

The next time you feel oppressed because no one agrees with your peanut butter and banana sandwiches, or pineapple on your pizza, or collection of Milli Vanilli and Vanilla Ice CD's, keep this in mind. More than 50,000 people turned out for Slobodon Milosovic's funeral. More than 50,000 people will miss someone who history will probably place in the top 5 mass murdering despots of all time. So whenever someone gives you crap about your Vulcan Science Academy bumper sticker, just tell them, 'Hey, at least I didn't go to Slobo's funeral.'

I just don't understand my species sometimes.

Marius

Whence Comes Bigotry

I'm hoping that by exposing this demon, I can exorcise it. I am, apparantly, a racist. This is a difficult thing for me to acknowledge. My maternal grandmother was a bigot, though she would deny it vehemently, and her attitude towards minorities was a major factor in our estrangement during the last decade of her life. She would often start a conversation with, "Now I'm not a racist, but..." and then say some horrible thing about 'blacks(must be whispered lest any of them hear), or Puerto Ricans(again, spoken like it was the height of blasphemy)'. As a child I never noticed, but as I grew older I came to tolerate it less and less, and would call her on it, as if I could change her mind on such things. I know, now, how futile that was, and I regret the distance we had at the end. But today, however, I am forced to realize that self-same trait in my own personality, albeit less obviously manifest. Allow me to explain.

For many years now I have noticed that I notice when I do something nice for a black person. If I hold the door open for a black woman, rather than just feel good about doing something nice, my brain makes a point of saying 'hey, way to be not racist.' Or if I do something nice while driving, same thing. I have managed to rationalize these little bigotries away, but over the last two days I have noticed something that has forced me to face my racism, and hopefully begin to abolish it. Yesterday I saw a little black girl eating a mango at the grocery store, and again this morning another little black girl eating one on the way to school. Big deal, one would think, but a little voice in my head begged the question, would I have noticed a white girl eating a mango? And if so, would I have thought anything other than yuck?(I don't like mangos) It bothers me that I noticed something like that. I know that eating mangos is a black stereotype, but maybe these children simply like mangos, and it has nothing to do with their ethnicity. Granted, there are cultural differences between blacks and whites, but why do we attach a negative connotation to these things? Where did this almost unconscious disdain come from? Why do I have an inner Archie Bunker when such thinking is antithetical to everything I believe in? Is the white culture so much better? The first heart transplant was performed by a black doctor, and the holocaust was orchestrated by some of the whitest white people in history.

Race is such an arbitrary factor that it should be irrelevent in all things save choice of sunscreen, yet even the most, supposedly, enlightened of us cannot dissasociate ourselves from it. Simple evolutionary adaptations to environmental conditions should not be a basis for judgement of character, but we do just that every day. I like to consider myself civilized, and above such things, but perhaps noticing the mote in everyone else's eyes has blinded me to the plank in my own. Now I need to find a pair of industrial strength tweezers.

Marius

The Beginning

Hey folks,
Whaddya think of this?


Princess Aetna swung her mighty bastard sword with deadly accuracy, neatly cleaving the hideous kobold's head from its loathsome shoulders. A familiar crackling sound caused her to duck quickly, but not quickly enough to avoid getting some of her long, blonde hair singed as Motan the Magnificent's lightening bolt spell shot over her head to immolate four of the slavering attackers. She wheeled, and the wind was driven from her lungs as an arrow pierced her armor just below her heart. Enraged, she withdrew a small throwing axe from her belt and hurled it at the archer, neatly burying it between its tiny, pig-like eyes. Aetna gripped the protruding shaft, and with a growl of defiance tore it from her body, and plunged it into the eye of doglike abominations of nature. Suddenly a cool, tingling green light enveloped her, suffusing her with strength and peaceful calm. The sounds of battle faded and for a moment she felt as if she was resting beneath the verdant trees of her native forests. Just as suddenly the healing spell was finished, and the calm was replaced with renewed rage.

"Thanks, Targon!" she shouted to the Elven cleric. Targon merely nodded. He required no gratitude for serving his gods. At least none from mere mortals.

"Aetna! Behind you!!" It was the clear, deep voice of Sir Llewellyn, the Paladin, warning her of a kobold assassin coming up behind her. Aetna shrieked a battle cry as she spun about, sword outstretched to take advantage of the momentum of her spin, but just as she was about to split the beastly foe from nave to chops, her blood-slick fingers slipped on the hilt of her sword and it flew from her grasp to land uselessly against the far wall of the cavern. She gaped in horrified disbelief, then felt the assassin's dagger pierce her heart. With a look of frozen astonishment on her face, Princess Aetna died.

"What?!" Keith shouted. "What do you mean she's dead?"

Jeff just shook his head. "I'm sorry, but you rolled a one. You know that's a fumble, and the assassin rolled a critical hit with a +5 dagger of slaying. Your fighter is dead. Now be a good little corpse and be quiet till the battle's over. If Dave's cleric survives he can resurrect you."

Keith sat down in a huff as the battle concluded. No one else got their character killed, which made him all the more angry. Good to his word, Brother Targon breathed life back into Princess Aetna, and all was well again.

"Ok, guys," Jeff said, "it's getting late, and I have a big test in the morning. Let's call it a night here."

No one argued the point, since it was nearly 11:00, and their parents would be expecting them home soon anyway. Besides, it had been a good night's gaming. They all bagged up their dice, gathered their miniatures and manuals, and headed out. Jeff stopped Keith at the door.
"Hey, you're not still pissed about Aetna, are you?"

"No, not at you. I'm pissed at me for being pissed at you, but I got a shitty roll, that's all."

"Cool. See ya in the library tomorrow?"
"Yeah, after lunch."

Opinions? Interested in where this is going? Oh, and any resemblance to real people, either living or dead, is purely coincidental. I mean, come on. Dave would NEVER play a cleric. ;-)

These Are the People(and spaceships)In Your Neighborhood

Ok, it's a big news day, so let's dive right in, shall we?

First some good news. The Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter made a flawless orbital insertion yesterday. It took seven months for the 4000 pound, $720 million spacecraft to reach the red planet, and it will take another 7 months of careful aerobraking to bring the orbiter down to its desired altitude of approximately 250 miles above the surface. The MRO is equipped with the most powerful optical cameras ever launched into space, as well as a spectrometer for atmospheric analysis, radar for probing beneath the Martian topsoil, an advanced communications array that will permit the craft to more effectively relay information from probes already on the surface, a gravitational field investigation package designed to measure Mars' gravity, and accelerometers which will gather data about the composition and density of the Martian atmosphere during the aerobraking maneuvers.

Once the MRO is settled into its orbit it will begin two years of the most intense and detailed scrutiny of Mars ever conducted. Its high resolution camera will be able to see objects as small as one meter in length, and may even be able to find the wreckage of the Mars Polar Lander which is believed to have crash landed on December 3, 1999.

Closer to home is a story that I am somewhat reluctant to take pleasure in, but it's just too damned hard not to. Slobodan Milosovic, the former Yugoslavian leader responsible for the deaths of thousands of Bosnian Croats and Muslims between 1992 and 1995, died in his cell sometime today. I'm only sorry that he died peacefully in his sleep of apparant natural causes, and not wetting himself and begging for mercy in front of a firing squad. If there is a final judgement beyond this world, I would imagine Milosovic will soon be joining the Infernal poker game right alongside Hitler, Stalin, and Dahmer. Bon voyage, bastard.

Even closer to home is a story I predicted years ago. I have long been saying that Michael Jackson is a classic case of insanity gone unchecked. As long as he was bringing in more cash than any two third-world nations he was coddled, and pampered, and shielded from 'the real world' by the toadies and ass-kissers surrounding him. Well, now the house of cards is collapsing around him. Despite his acquittal of child molestation charges, Jackson has been living in Bahrain ever since, and apparantly not paying his bills here at home. The state of California has given Jackson til Tuesday to pay $100,000 in penalties and $306,000 in back pay owed to nearly 50 workers at his Neverland Ranch. According to workers at Neverland, they haven't been paid since December. Allegations of Jackson's financial troubles have been plentiful, and one witness, a forensic accountant, testified at the recent trial that Jackson had been consistantly spending $20-30 million more than he made annually. Of course, Jackson's attorneys deny all of this, but the workers at the ranch have been barred from returning due to the fact that Neverland's workers compensation insurance had lapsed. As for the dozens of exotic animals at the ranch, several local animal welfare agencies have been notified, and PETA has even put thier two cents in, calling for all the animals to be sent to sanctuaries.

And right here at home, I'm not going to war after all. Our beloved mama cat, Artemis, came down with a urinary infection, and her visit to the vet, along with two shots, bloodwork, and antibiotics pretty much wiped out my war chest. But, disappointed though I am, it is far more important to keep the babies healthy. And even though she slept more than usual yesterday, she was friskier than ever last night and even chased the laser pointer, which she ususally ignores. So all in all it was a good decision. But now I have to treat her for ear mites, and she ain't gonna like that.

From sunny Tampa, where I'm about to be bleeding from several places, I bid you adieu for now.

Marius

Baa Baa Cyber Sheep

Folks from my generation and before have a built in flaw that comes from centuries of knowledge that the printed word carries power. Before the age of word processors, and desktop publishing, there were strict guidelines, and steep costs involved in printing information. Therefore, anything printed carried much more weight than anything written or spoken. In the pre-internet days this was rarely a problem, as most bogus things were usually spotted since they quickly became copies of copies of copies of faxes, etc. Bad quality, poor spelling, and obvious home typing all served to out the false document rather quickly. But not anymore. Perhaps our progeny will be less gullible, since they will have grown up with the internet and all its wonders and abuses, and might just consider the glossy, fake articles with as little regard as we did crank phone calls. I hope so, anyway. One of my oldest, and dearest friends sent me, and dozens of others, a very disturbing series of images that have been circulating for a couple of years now. They purport to show an 8 year old boy who was supposedly convicted of stealing a loaf of bread in Iraq having his arm crushed under a truck's tire as punishment. The subject line of this is 'The Truth about Islam' and has the effect of further demonizing those of the Islamic faith. I was once guilty of forwarding every virus warning, and urban legend that crossed my inbox in my early days as a surfer of the web, but after being soundly chastised by many of my friends I have made it a point to verify every such thing before I either A) believe it, or B) pass it along. These pics hit me hard, because I have an 8 year old step-daughter and I was horrified at what I saw. But something just didn't ring true. Firt of all, the 'punishers' put a folded towel beneath the child's arm, which hardly seems the act of those seeking to destroy the limb. Secondly, and most tellingly, the kid wasn't struggling, or being held in any way. My kid won't stay in the shower sometimes without restraint, I doubted that an 8 year old would calmly let a truck crush his arm. So I dug.

It took some time, but I finally found what I was looking for. The pics were real, but the description was totally false. The child was part of a group, either in Iran, Iraq, or India depending on which reference you find, that makes a living by performing 'super human' acts for money. The email that's going around shows 6 pictures of the child before and during the wheel going over his arm, but neglects to show the 7th shot of the kid smiling and undamaged after. Needless to say I was very relieved, and then asked my friend to send out a retraction. The last thing this country needs is false winds to fan the flames of racism.

The point I am trying to make, folks, is please use Carl Sagan's aphorism that extraordinary claims require extraordinary proof. Before you have everyone on your list sending postcards to a Cancer ward in Iowa, or downloading $200 cookie recipes, please check them out first. Here are two really good places to look:

www.snopes.com

www.hoaxbusters.ciac.org/

Odds are if the story, warning, pettition, or picture you just recieved is fake, it will be listed in one of these places. And if all else fails, send it to me, and I'll do my best to prove it true or false.

Here endeth the lesson. Go in peace.

Marius of the Soapbox

So Let's Drink Another Sink

 

Some idiot built this drinking fountain upside-down! 

An Oscar Opinion

It's no secret that I never miss the Daily Show, and I think Jon Stewart is one of the smartest people on tv today, so I looked very much forward to watching him host the Academy Awards Sunday night. I wasn't all that thrilled with this year's crop of films, so I had no real investment in the nominees, but I couldn't wait to see what Stewart would do. I mean I was one of the few people who enjoyed Letterman's turn at the podium for crying out loud. But, I can no longer hide from the truth...it just wasn't that good.

It wasn't that bad, either, but I felt that Stewart's comedy needs a faster pace, and it was almost painful to watch him have to stop in between jokes and quips while the words echoed around the room, and the world. It was like watching a champion sprinter trying to run a race while carrying an anvil. The lines were good, but the political humor didn't seem to go over well with the glitterati in the theatre. Eventually he found his stride, and the funniest lines but one were his obvious improvs toward the end of the ceremony. Pointing out that Three 6 Mafia were the happiest winners that night was great, but a lot of his digs at the politics of the stars engendered what seemed to be forced, polite laughter. The best joke of the night, in my opinion, was when he apologized for Bjork's absence, saying that while she was trying on her outfit, Dick Cheney shot her.

I am frequently dismayed when the writers try to turn the ceremony into a larger version of the host's usual schtick. I think Jon Stewart could have handled being the host without making it The Oscars as performed by The Daily Show. It was a lot like watching Dennis Miller on Monday Night Football. You wanted him to do well, but it just wasn't his realm. Stewart is too deep for Hollywood's most fatuous night. I say let Billy Crystal glide gently over the thin skinned crust of Tinsel Town's elite, offending no one and entertaining everyone, and leave Jon Stewart to plumb the deeper waters of the real world.

Why Can't Marius Blog?

  

More Celebs Leave Us

Wow! It has not been a good week for '70's tv icons. Darrin McGavin, best known as Carl Kolchak in the very short-lived series The Night Stalker that ran from 1974 to 1975, passed away on the 24th of February. I thought he was only in The Night Stalker, but looking over his filmography is like looking at a cross section of television spanning the last four decades. His credits include appearances in The Six Million Dollar Man, Magnum P.I., The Love Boat(of course just about every living celebrity was on the Love Boat at some point), Tales From the Darkside, Highway to Heaven, Murder She Wrote, Murphy Brown, Gargoyles, The Commish, Millenium, and The X-Files. His movies include Airport '77, and of course A Christmas Story. The man was so ubiquitous that he seemed invisible, but his was a full, and busy career, and his millions of fans will miss him.

I only just found out that Dennis Weaver, Who played New Mexico Cop Sam Macloud from 1970 to 1977, died on the 24th of February. While his filmography is just as busy as McGavin's, Weaver will always be known for playing the homey, misplaced deputy trying to clean up the Big Apple.

Don Knotts, Darrin McGavin, and Dennis Weaver. This has been one hell of a February wherein three true talents have left this Earth, and yet no one can get Paris Hilton or Brittney Spears to do just a little too much smack in the limo on the way to their next sleaze-fest. What a world.

G'night, and C'thulhu bless.
Marius

Goodbye, Mr. Chicken

Don Knotts died last night at the age of 81. While it is no tragedy when someone dies at 81, it is certainly sad that one of the brightest lights in the world has now been extinguished.

Everyone knows Barney Fife, and Knotts has said that he is proud of that role, and is happy to be remembered for it. But whenever I think of Don Knotts I think of two movies; The Reluctant Astronaut, and my favorite The Ghost and Mr. Chicken. In both he played the nerdy, cowardly, but noble and lovable schmuck who finds himself forced to become more than he ever imagined. In Astronaut he was a janitor at NASA who told his family that he was an astronaut, and gets accidentally launched into space, with appropriately silly results. And in Mr. Chicken he plays a nervous typesetter who, in the hopes of becoming a full-fledged reporter, accepts an assignment to spend a night in a haunted house, only to be be-deviled by both mean spirited pranksters, and maybe a real ghost or two. In both films he ultimately triumphs, surprising himself and everyone else with his bravery in the face of real danger, and gets the girl. What better role model for a pudgey, Star Trek loving geek-in-training.

Everything I have ever read or seen about Don Knotts showed him to be a warm, gentle, kind-hearted soul who had the gift of making people laugh. He is an American icon, and I am sure that people will be laughing at Barney Fife, and Mr. Limpet, and NASA janitor Roy Fleming, and typesetter Luthor Heggs for many, many years to come.

Vaya con Dios, Mr. Knotts, and thank you.

Marius

I'm Going To War!!(gulp)

Welcome, true believers, to a somewhat contradictory edition of The Corner. There's an old saying that goes 'be careful what you wish for, you might just get it.' As most of you know, I have dabbbled on and off over the last three decades(hay-seuss marimba!) with medieval reenactment in the guise of the Society for Creative Anachronism. The last three years have seen a resurgance of my association with the organization, and I even have armor and bruises anew to testify thusly. Now in March every year there is a gathering in Mississippi called Gulf Wars. It is a war between the kingdoms of Ansteorra and Trimaris, and is a week long excuse to wear funny clothes, hit people with sticks, eat, drink, and be merry. Usually I have a show that weekend and have never been able to attend. This year, however, it cooincides with my Spring Break, and we are not doing anything that would interfere. So, says I to Mrs. Marius, we could go to the war this year. Alas, quoth she, my new job will not allow it, and the young'n's Spring Break isn't till the week after. Sigh, quoth I, foiled again. But then she said, 'why don't you go? You haven't had a vacation in years. I'll get my mom to come up and help with the little 'un.' Really? says I. Really, really, says she.

Make it so!

But now the dread settles in. I have not donned the trappings of a 10th Century Dane for more than a few hours in many years. Nor have a spent a day in armor in many more. Faces have changed, and there will be many I won't recognize, remember, or know. I find myself looking for reasons to back out. But nay, I shan't!! Lord Wihtgar will rise again, gird his loins for battle, and most likely get his medieval buttocks handed to him, but dammit I'm going to have fun!!! I'm going to party like it's 1099, and I'm going to come home bruised, probably somewhat hungover, and hopefully a lot more relaxed.

Now if I can just remember what I did with my tights. ;-)

The Future is Now

I wish to share with you, oh faithful few, a conversation I had with Mrs. Marius last night, that a mere 20 years ago would have seemed completely bizarre. We were cuddling on the couch, and Starbuck, the Kitten of Unbearable Cuteness(tm), was scampering about doing kitten things, when I heard this sentence come out of my mouth.

"Honey, pass me the laser, I want to play with the cat."

Can the anti-gravity boots be too far off?

To infinity...and beyond!!!!

Darth Marius

Republican Dictionary

This was sent to me by my dear friend Deb. I think it clears many issues up.

Have you been as confused as I have, about what exactly is being said in Washington? Now, finally, we get the help we need...

A Dictionary for Republicanisms




alternative energy sources n. New locations to drill for gas and oil.
[Peter Scholz, Fort Collins, CO]

bankruptcy n. A punishable crime when committed by poor people but not corporations.
[Beth Thielen, Studio City, Calif.]

"burning bush" n. A biblical allusion to the response of the President of the United States.
When asked a question by a journalist who has not been paid to inquire.
[Bill Moyers, New York, NY]

Cheney, Dick n. The greater of two evils.
[Jacob McCullar, Austin, Tex.]

class warfare n. Any attempt to raise the minimum wage.
[Don Zweir, Grayslake, Ill.]

climate change n. The blessed day when the blue states are swallowed by the oceans.
[Ann Klopp, Princeton, NJ]

compassionate conservatism n. Poignant concern for the very wealthy
(Lawrence Sandek, Twin Peaks, Calif.]

creationism n. Pseudoscience that claims George W. Bush's resemblance to a chimpanzee is totally coincidental
[Brian Sweeney, Providence, RI].

DeLay, Tom n. 1. Past tense of De Lie
[Rick Rodstrom, Los Angeles, Calif.].
2. Patronage saint
[Andrew Magni, Nonatum, Mass.].

extraordinary rendition n.! Outsourcing torture
[Milton Feldon, Laguna Woods, Calif.].

faith n. The stubborn belief that God approves of Republican moral values despite the preponderance of textual evidence to the contrary
[Matthew Polly, Topeka, Kans.].

free markets n. Halliburton no-bid contracts at taxpayer expense
[Sean O'Brian, Chicago, Ill.].

girly men n. Males who do not grope women inappropriately
[Nick Gill, Newton, Mass.].

God n. Senior presidential adviser
[Martin Richard, Belgrade, Mont.].

growth n. 1. The justification for tax cuts for the rich.
2. What happens to the national debt when Republicans cut taxes on the rich
(Matthew Polly, Topeka, Kans.].

healthy forest n. No tree left behind
[Dan McWilliams, Santa Barbara, Calif.].

honesty n. Lies told in simple declarative sentences--e.g., "Freedom is on the march"
[Katrina vanden Heuvel, New York, NY].

House of Representatives n. Exclusive club; entry fee $1 million to $5 million (See Senate)
[Adam Hochschild, San Francisco, Calif.].

laziness n. When the poor are not working
[Justin Rezzonico, Keene, Ohio].

leisure time n. When the wealthy are not working
[Justin Rezzonico, Keene, Ohio].

liberal(s) n. Followers of the Antichrist
[Ann Wegher, Montello, Wisc.].

No Child Left Behind riff. 1. v. There are always jobs in the military
[Ann Klopp, Princeton, NJ].
2. n. The rapture
[Samantha Hess, Cottonwood, Ariz.]

ownership society n. A civilization where 1 percent of the population controls 90 percent of the wealth
[Michael Albert, Piscataway, NJ].

Patriot Act n. 1. The pre-emptive strike on American freedoms to prevent the terrorists from destroying them first.
2. The elimination of one of the reasons why they hate us
[Michael Thomas, Socorro, NM].

pro-life adj. Valuing human life up until birth
[Kevin Weaver, San Francisco, Calif.].

Senate n. Exclusive club; entry fee $10 million to $30 million
[Adam Hochschild, San Francisco, Calif.].

simplify v. To cut the taxes of Republican donors
[Katrina vanden Heuvel, New York, NY].

staying the course interj. Slang. Saying and doing the same stupid thing over and over, regardless of the result
[Suzanne Smith, Ann Arbor, Mich.].

stuff happens interj. Slang. Donald Rumsfeld as master historian
[Sheila and Chalmers Johnson, San Diego, Calif.].

voter fraud n. A significant minority turnout
[Sue Bazy, Philadelphia, Pa.].

woman n. 1. Person who can be trusted to bear a child but can't be trusted to decide whether or not she wishes to have the child.
2. Person who must have all decisions regarding her reproductive functions made by men with whom she wouldn't want to have sex in the first place
[Denise Clay, Philadelphia, Pa.].

A Thought

Whoever domesticated the cat was obviously tired of the drudgery of sleeping.

Marius
5:38am

Who's Watching the Ports?!

Just when I think I understand the world, and this country, something comes along that just totally baffles me. At a time when unemployment is skyrocketing, and outsourcing is gutting our workforce, why would we allow foreign companies to manage some of our largest seaports? Apparantly a London based company has been managing US seaports in New York, New Jersey, Baltimore, New Orleans, Miami and Philadelphia. That's wierd enough, but now the Bush administration has no problems with the buying of the London-based Peninsular and Oriental Steam Navigation Co., the company that currently operates these ports, by Dubai Ports, a company in the United Arab Emirates. Bush protests that the Dubai company is in full compliance with US laws, and has vowed to cooperate with all security requirements. He states, "I can understand why some in Congress have raised questions about whether or not our country will be less secure as a result of this transaction but they need to know that our government has looked at this issue and looked at it carefully."

Members of both the House of Representatives and the Senate, Republicans and Democrats have objected to the sale, and requested that the President delay the move for further study. And the loudest objections are not coming from low-level legislators. House Speaker Dennis Hastert(R-Ill) and Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist(R-Tennessee) have both objected, and there is a proposal to pass a bill to block the sale. And in a further sign that the president is losing touch not just with the American people, but his own party, Bush has vowed to veto any such legislation.

So let's see if I have this straight, we spend billions in Iraq to remove a toothless despot with no proven connections to Al Quaida, the 9/11 attack, or weapons of mass destruction, but we are putting some of our most important seaports into the hands of a country that is known to have been the financial base of operations for some of the 9/11 hijackers, and is suspected in complicity with the smuggling of nuclear materials. Isn't it nice to know that more than two-thousand of our young men and women have died in the desert so we can allow the billionaire sheiks of the United Arab Emirates to monitor six of our most vulnerable areas?

Please, someone, anyone, impeach that idiot before he kills us all!

It's a Kitten's Life Trashing the Den

  

How Do Ya Like Them Apples...Dick?

I have purposely avoided the Dick Cheney shooting, since the Daily Show, and PIKARESQUE have already done such a fine job with it, but the interview he gave today has inspired me to point something out. "The image of him falling is something I'll never ever be able to get out of my mind," Cheney told Fox's Brit Hume. "I fired, and there's Harry falling. It was, I'd have to say, one of the worst days of my life at that moment."

It's a little different when you are pulling the trigger yourself, isn't it, Mr. Vice President.


Not that I really believe he's all that broken up about it, but to hear a man who has been directly responsible for so much death claim to be upset at shooting someone with bird shot seems a little disingenuous, wouldn't you say?

Marius

Happy VD, Everyone!!

 
 

Which Star Trek Character Are You?

Your results:
You are Geordi LaForge

Geordi LaForge 70% James T. Kirk (Captain) 60% Mr. Scott 60% Will Riker 50% Worf 50% Deanna Troi 50% Uhura 45% Jean-Luc Picard 45% Beverly Crusher 45% An Expendable Character (Redshirt) 45% Chekov 40% Data 39% Spock 35% Mr. Sulu 35% Leonard McCoy (Bones) 20%

You work well with others and often fix problems quickly. Your romantic relationships are often bungled.

Click here to take the "Which Star Trek character are you?" quiz...

Rocketboom Takes Off

It's Thursday, October 13th, and I'm watching the end of a program on G4 called Attack of the Show. The host is interviewing an attractive blonde from New York named Amanda Congdon. It seems that she has been doing a daily video blog, or Vlog, for nearly a year, and has garnered quite a following. The format is simple, she and her partner Drew post a semi-satirical, totally opinionated three minute segment in the form of a news cast. The subject matter covers everything from rebuilding in Sri Lanka, to geekware toy stores in Manhattan. Normally such an interview would hold my attention for a few minutes, then get sent to my mental trash bin, but something about Amanda's absolute lack of any guile or falsehood stuck in my mind. The next day I went to http://rocketboom.com . I have yet to miss an episode since. The stories are often fascinating, or bizarre, or have a different take on something everyone else is covering, but it is almost always interesting. And one of the best parts is that you can comment on each episode, and unless the comment is vulgar there is no censorship on the opinions. I cannot recommend the site enough.

For the last few months Rocketboom has been talking about trying to make some money from their labor of love. They get hundreds of thousands of hits a day, and they, quite naturally, decided to see if they could get a little compensation for a year and a half of hard, unpaid work. They hit upon a very clever idea: auction off one week's worth of ads on Ebay. They set ground rules: no porn or gambling companies; and they would make the ads themselves and run them after the regular vlogcast. The comments flew fast and furious, mostly in favor of the venture. Some worry that with great cash comes great loss of integrity, others just seem to be sour grapes eaters. But the overwhelming majority, myself included, are thrilled that Amanda and Drew might actually get some reward for being so entertaining and informative. The auction lasted one week, and ended Thursday with a final bid, from someone called starfinder5, of $40,000! And there was much rejoicing!!

Rocketboom posts Monday through Fridays, so the comments have been piling up since Friday morning. When I last checked this morning there were 88 comments, 86 of which were positive. The two negative ones seemed to be from the kind of people who probably kick their children's bedroom door open at 11:59pm Christmas Eve and shout, 'You know there is no Santa Clause!' I couldn't be happier for them, and I encourage everyone to check out the site. They have an archive section where you can go back and see all of the posts from the beginning, which is kinda fun to watch the evolution of a phenomenon.

In any event, Amanda and Drew, congratulations. You truly deserve to reap the fruits of your labors.

Marius

A Little Less Enthusiasm, I Beg You

Lately there has been a lot of anger and frustration over the 'high price of oil'. Oil companies have been making record profits, gas prices have gone through the roof, and folks are, for the first time since the mid-70's paying attention to those three little letters, MPG. In the last couple of days I have received emails showing photos of an Arab sheik's silver plated Audi, and an indoor ski slope built in the middle of a Middle-Eastern desert. Both messages came with the caption: See what $2.29 a gallon buys. Well, while I can certainly understand the anger and frustration(when it takes $20 to fill my Saturn's tank I get a bit frustrated too), complaining about it is like the chef complaining that the fat man in the dining room weighs too much. We are feeding the monster with nearly everything we do, and it isn't until it becomes inconvenient that we start to complain.

For as long as I can remember scientists, sociologists, and the occasional politician have been warning us about our unprecedented dependence on oil. Most people only think about the gas in their tanks, but petroleum is used in the manufacture of most plastics. Just think about how many items in your everyday life use plastics. Plus most of the electricity in the US is generated using petroleum fueled power plants. There is oil in our cars, our lawnmowers, our computers, our furniture, even the lip-balm we use to keep our kissers supple. As much as I hate to agree with anything that comes out of W's mouth, we are truly addicted to oil. And unless we change our basic ways of thinking and living that addiction is not going away any time soon.

I don't think it is possible to reduce our need for plastics, but we can work on the ways in which we generate and use energy. Politicians have found a couple of buzz words that make them sound like they are trying to solve the problem, so let's look a little more closely at them.

Hydrogen. There is a lot of talk about hydrogen being the next big fuel. Hydrogen fuel cells generate electricity by combining hydrogen with oxygen, and the 'waste' product is water. Sounds great, doesn't it? The President loves to tout his dedication to hydrogen technologies, but there is one major flaw no one in Washington is mentioning. Hydrogen is abundant on our little planet, but not in its pure form. It is pretty much all tied up in compounds, most abundantly water. Most of us performed electrolysis experiments in high school, running current through water to make hydrogen and oxygen, and that's the same way they get hydrogen today. But here's the kicker. The electricity needed to break water down into its constituent parts comes from...say it along with me folks...oil burning power plants. Right now it takes far more energy to make hydrogen than we get back by using it in fuel cells. Eventually there will be a better way to get hydrogen, and I fully expect to see practical fuel cells in common use in my lifetime, but that day is years, if not decades off.

Ethanol. Ethanol has been around for years. By fermenting corn you can make a fuel that will power our gasoline driven equipment. There are places where corn is plentiful that have been augmenting their gasoline with ethanol since the '70's. And everyone knows that we, the US, grow more corn than we use. So, ethanol is a natural, renewable source of cheap fuel, right? Well, yes and no. Just like with hydrogen we need to look at the big picture. While there is some debate over this, it seems that when you factor in the petroleum products needed to plant, fertilize, harvest, and process the corn your net energy savings gained from using it as fuel aren't that great. The upside is that it can be used as an alternative fuel today, but it won't significantly reduce our oil needs in the long run.

So, what's my point? Glad you asked. Rather than waste time, effort, and emotion decrying those who merely feed our gluttonous needs, start making real efforts to reduce those needs. Drive less. Get rid of the monstrous SUV in your driveway. Walk, ride bikes, carpool, use public transportation. Recycle anything and everything you can. If you own your home there are numerous ways to reduce your oil-driven energy consumption. Wind and solar power are practical, affordable, and available for many household uses. Research is making great strides in using such things as ocean waves and tidal changes to generate clean electricity. Electric and hybrid cars are being refined and improved yearly, and the price of these vehicles is dropping rapidly. Simply being aware of the amount of energy you use, and making a conscious effort to reduce it whenever, and wherever possible will make a world of difference. We need to stop blaming others, and take responsibility for our own excesses. The oil will run out, maybe not today, or this century, but it will run out, and unless we want to run out with it, we have to do something today. If not for ourselves, for our children.

Here endeth the lesson. Go in peace.

Marius

Radio Drones

Of late I have noticed an interesting phenomenon. There are many musical groups I like, but quite often I like them because of an album or song that is outside the band's usual style or subject matter. Three examples leap to mind: Metallica's Black Album; They Might Be Giants Flood; and Green Day's American Idiot. All three are, in my mind, masterworks, and yet the bands' fan bases seem to feel that they don't measure up to previous work. I have listened to earlier, and later works of these bands, and still find the albums mentioned to be superior, and definitely different. And that's what I like about them. I appreciate musicians who don't just find a formula and keep repeating it over and over(hear that Aerosmith and AC/DC?) I find it hard to fathom why anyone would want to hear the same three songs with different lyrics for fifteen albums. Metallica's earlier work was very gritty, and angry, and rough, and many of their fans resented the polished sound of the Black Album, whereas I like it for just that reason. I have also heard that Green Day fans either love or hate American Idiot, often saying things like, "I liked them better before they quit the booze and drugs." Personally I don't find American Idiot to be that different from any of their earlier stuff; it's just more polished and focused. And I have yet to hear a Green Day album that I didn't like. My own fave, Blue Oyster Cult, had some clunkers in the '80s(Club Ninja being the worst), but at least they were trying new stuff. I welcome change and growth in my music. One of my favorite performers was Ronnie James Dio, who fronted for Black Sabbath after Ozzy left, and then went out on his own after 3 albums with Sabbath. I followed his solo career closely, even saw him live three times, but he had used up all his ideas by the third solo album, and I lost interest.

I know that people sometimes fear change, which is why American Idol is so popular. (Anyone who is truly original usually doesn't make it past the first cut on that televised freak show)(and I'm sorry, Puddy, Clay may be a great person, and have a good voice, but he is hardly anything new musically) But I just don't get how groups or performers can keep making cookie cutter songs and albums, and people hail it like it is a cold glass of Gatoraid in the Sahara. They may not have been the greatest musical geniuses of all time, but I appreciated bands like DEVO, The B-52's, and The Go-Go's just because they didn't sound like everybody else. I'd be hard pressed to tell the difference between Brittany Spears, Christina Aguillera, and Jessica Simpson without looking at them. And the boy bands are even worse. Pop music today is more formulaic than a high school chemistry class. And the rock scene isn't much better. Bands either sound like Limp Bizkit or The Offspring, with the occasional gem like Disturbed or Godsmack. Come on, people. Embrace the new, the original, or someday all music will sound like the stuff they play at the local mall.

Marius

Hold Still!

 


The feline equivalent of mom spitting on a napkin. 

Decaffeinated Thoughts

Good morning, and welcome to a sleepy edition of The Corner. For the past 5 weeks I have been participating in a clinical study to test a new blood pressure medicine, and today is the last day so I can't eat or drink anything until they draw some blood later this morning, which means (gasp, shudder) no coffee. So, join me in my zombified state as I blather a bit.

I just realized something wierd. In this world of rampant, pervasive, omnipresent advertising I have never seen an ad for either WD-40 or duct tape, yet I have never met anyone who didn't know what both are.

Squirrels are everywhere, running, jumping, climbing trees, mugging people for their french fries, but I have never witnessed a squirrel crapping. I wonder why that is.

I watched the Superbowl last night. The game was very good, but the commercials were rather lame this year. The only ones that were even vaguely amusing were the Budwiser ads, and even they were pretty tame. The puritanical ripples from the Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunction are still rebounding off of the network programmers, causing an increase in self-censorship and a decrease in cleverness. Even the half-time show, featuring the Rolling Stones, was incredibly tame. Mick Jagger and the gang can still rock the house, and Mick himself is pretty lively for someone in his sixties, but it was a pretty boring set. And the audio mixing was horrible! The first song was Start Me Up, and if you closed your eyes you could easily imagine that you were in a Karoke bar listening to your buddy Stan, who has had too many beers and too few singing lessons, trying to sound like Mick. The rest of the set didn't sound as bad, so I either got used to the crappy mixing, or they fixed it. In any event instead of marching bands, pretty ladies in high boots twirling batons, or any other traditional half-time stuff, we get four aging male rockers and some tired old songs. wheee.
The game itself was well played and came right down to the wire. I have no real interest in either team, so I chose to root for Pittsburg because I have been there once. I believe that they were the underdogs, but I'm not sure. They were victorious,however, and with the exception of a couple of iffy calls by the referees it was a good, clean game.

Well, oh faithful few, that's about all I can squeeze out of these dampened dendrites this chilly Florida morn. Take care, be well, and may Juan Valdez bless you with all the go juice you can handle.

Marius

Victory!!!

 
 

Motherly Love

 


And just what did you sit in, young man? 

Who's Chairs?

 
 

Kitchen: Beyond Thunderdome

 



Two cats enter, one cat leaves! 

January 28, 1986

It was a typical South Florida morning, if a bit chilly. I was, also typically, running late for school. I was a student at Palm Beach Junior College, in my final semester there as a theatre major. My folks were bustling about the house getting ready for work, and while I knew there was to be a shuttle launch that morning, I was too busy to pay much attention to it. The radio was on in the kitchen, tuned to the Miami station my mom likes, but the morning talk show never really interested me. Then, as I was leaving the bathroom to head out to my room to finish getting ready, I heard the phrase, 'we have lost communication with the Challenger'. Now, at this point in time the sounds of radio coverage of the shuttle launches were commonplace, so anything out of the ordinary caught my attention. 'Lost communication with the Challenger' did just that, and I stopped and grabbed the tv remote. I remember hearing words like 'explosion' and 'accident', but nothing prepared me for the first replay of that doomed launch. Everything looked fine at first. Huge clouds of steam, bright orange flames, that improbable conglomeration of cylinders and cones lifting gracefully into the air...then that awful flash of flames from the starboard motor, and an expanding white cloud, horned by the uncontrolled remains of the solid rocket boosters as they veered away from the carnage. After the initial shock wore off I called my friends, at least the ones who would have been awake that early in the morning, and told them to turn on their tv's.

It's hard to believe that it has been twenty years since that morning. I remember it like it happened yesterday. I suppose this is the Kennedy assasination of my generation. If you would like to share your memories of that day, or any thoughts on the shuttle or NASA, please post them.

Requiescant in pace.

Marius

Requiem

Yesterday was the first Day of Remembrance at NASA(with thanks to Michael at http://spaces.msn.com/auxumbilicus/ for pointing it out); a day set aside to commemorate the three greatest tragedies in the history of America's space program. Oddly enough they all took place within a week of each other, just many years apart. I will, herein, tell the sad stories.

Apollo 1

Three men, picked to be the vanguard of the bold venture of putting a man on the moon, reclined in the cramped, equipment-filled command module of the first Apollo spacecraft. They were Gus Grissom, Ed White, and Roger Chaffee. The date was January 27, 1967, and the task at hand was a 'plugs out' test of all on-board systems to make sure that the spacecraft would operate independently when launched the following month. The capsule was sealed, the astronauts strapped in, and all systems seemed to be operating properly. Suddenly a faulty wire somewhere in the miles of tightly packed cables shorted out, causing a spark. The atmosphere in the cabin was pure oxygen, pressurized to about 16 pounds per square inch, and it flashed into flame. The cockpit was engulfed, and bulkheads ruptured, spewing flames into the gantry and preventing any rescue attempts. It took five and a half minutes before the hatches could be removed, and by then the astronauts were dead. The official cause of death was smoke inhalation. What came of this tragedy was, among other things, the abolition of the use of pure oxygen in spacecraft, and a redesigning of the double, inward opening hatch system into a single, outward opening hatch.

Challenger

Francis Scobee
Michael Smith
Ellison Onizuka
Judith Resnik
Ronald McNair
Gregory Jarvis
Christa McAuliffe

Few people alive today don't know the story of the Challenger. At 11:38 am on January 28, 1986, after many delays and problems, the space shuttle Challenger lifted off on a very cold Florida morning. 73 seconds later an O-ring on the starboard solid rocket booster ruptured, and the spacecraft was destroyed. This tragedy was all the more poignant because, for the first time, there was a civilian on board. Christa McAuliffe was a school teacher who earned the opportunity to be the first non-astronaut to go into space. It was a great chance to boost the flagging public support for the manned space program, not to mention a great opportunity for Ms. McAulliffe. Unfortunately she became an unwilling martyr and symbol for those who would see the manned program done away with. Ultimately it was found that the problem was not faulty equipment, although that was the immediate cause of the accident, but a refusal of the administrators to listen when engineers said there was a problem with the equipment. Launch dates and public relations became more important than safety, and seven people payed for that misplacement of priorities with their lives. Many people lost their jobs when the investigation was finished, and two years later Discovery launched flawlessly. Things seemed to be back on track until...

Columbia

Rick Husband
Willie McCool
Kalpana Chawla
Laurel Clark
Mike Anderson
David Brown
Ilan Ramon

February 1, 2003. The Columbia was coming home after 16 days in orbit. They were tired, but very pleased with the mission, and recovered film showed that they were joking and upbeat until the tragedy struck. No one on board the shuttle knew that during their launch a chunk of the insulating foam from the nose of the liquid fuel tank punched a hole in the leading edge of the port wing. It may be a blessing that they didn't know, since there would not have been anything they could have done about it, but that is a debate for philosophers. The facts are that as the spacecraft entered the atmosphere, turning it's incredible speed into ionized, super-heated plasma, the port wing ruptured and the shuttle was ripped apart in a blazing spread of debris that could be seen for hundreds of miles. Pieces of the doomed ship and crew were found in three states, and it took months to gather it in an attempt to determine the cause. And again, like the Challenger, it was determined that while the equipment failure was the immediate cause, the mindset of NASA to underplay or ignore warnings was the underlying reason.

I shall not editorialize on these tragedies, I merely wish to memorialize in my own small way. These astronauts died in pursuit of one of the greatest of human dreams-the furthering of our knowledge and understanding of the universe in which we live. It's true that, compared to the 2,000+ dead in Iraq, and the millions who have died in wars and atrocities all over the world in the decades since 1967, seventeen lives lost is pretty insignificant, but these lives were freely given in the noble attempt to better humanity, and that is worthy of remembering and honoring.

Rest in peace, travelers.

Marius

A Question for the Ladies

Help me, oh you of the female persuasion, to figure out this totally irrelevant yet perplexing quandary. I shop regularly at Wal-Mart, and occasionally at Target(and no, I do not pronounce it Tar-jay, thank you)and I have made an observation. The clientele at Wal-Mart resembles a Cops reunion, while the shoppers at Target look like they are on their way to an America's Next Top Model audition. To my male, uninitiated eyes there isn't that much difference in the selection and quality of merchandise at the two stores, so why such disparity in appearance.

I realize there are several generalizations in this query. Not all who shop
are female, and not all who go to Wal-Mart look like Jeff Foxworthy's distant cousins. Nor do all who shop at Target resemble Tara Banks on her way to a Prada debut, but as I am ill equipped to contemplate this properly, I appeal to you. Any thoughts?

Marius

Excuse me?

I recently heard a couple of idiotic comments of late, and thought I'd share them with you, oh faithful few.

First, there has been more than a little bashing of the religious zealots who decry anything scientific as anti-God, but I can now give equal bash to idiots on the other side. In November the Dali Lama endorsed research being conducted into the actual effects of meditation at Harvard and Princeton universities. He said, "Without investigation, you cannot see reality." Pretty cool, I think. I like the Dali Lama. Actually I like most of what I have heard from both Buddhism and Hinduism, since both pretty much seem to leave others alone should they not care to follow that particular path. But, just as some religious extremists wouldn't accept water from a scientist if they had just crawled out of the desert, some scientists are disdaining the Dali Lama for daring to even talk about science. At the annual meeting of the Society for Neuroscience, in Washington, DC, he made the above comment, but there were actually people petitioning to cancel his talk, and six presenter removed their posters. That is so incredibly stupid. Here we have a man of faith who is saying that there is room in the universe for both science and religion, and the scientists decry him for it. I am constantly shocked by the number of closed minds in the scientific community. Ah well.

And today, while at the grocery store, I heard the most bizarre comment. A young man, probably an athlete judging by his size and dress, was in the next aisle talking very loudly on his cell phone. The store was quite crowed, and I had my 8 year-old with me, so his frequent use of expletives at such a high volume spoke very highly of this fellow's upbringing, but I digress. What caught my attention was that he seemed quite incredulous about something he had just been told, to which he replied, and I quote, "Oh my fucking gosh!" Gosh? GOSH?! He has no problem dropping the F-bomb on half a store, but sweats taking the Lord's name in vain?
Call me old fashioned, but if you are peppering your speech with enough profanities to make Dick Nixon blush, the odd god thrown in here and there really isn't going to make matters worse.

But then again, that's how things would be if I were Gosh.

Marius

Can They Get Any Sweeter?

 
 

Bouillabaisse

We have a lot of ground to cover today, so let's dive right in.

First of all, if you are looking for a cheap, not-yet-illegal high, stay away from the Angel's Trumpet plant. Rumor has it that these plants are powerful hallucinogens, but the reality is that unless you are very, very careful the only high you'll be getting involves a long tunnel with a bright light at the end. Recently a 17 year old Titusville, Florida boy nearly killed himself in his quest for Nirvanna. What ever happened to driving to the 'wrong part of town', buying a nickel bag from some shady character in baggy jeans, getting stoned, eating a bag of Doritos and a pint of Ben and Jerry's and going to sleep?

Kudos to NASA. Thursday afternoon the New Horizons spacecraft launched flawlessly into the azure Florida sky, beginning a decade-long journey to our, maybe, most distant planet Pluto. The timing of this launch was critical because Pluto is as close to us as it will be for another 500 years or so, and even though the New Horizons probe will take nearly 10 years to get there, missing this window would have added nearly half again as much time to the mission. In February of 2007 the probe will pass close enough to Jupiter for the planet's gravity to add to its already incredible velocity. If all goes well the rendezvous with Pluto should occur sometime in 2015-2017.

Why is it that conservatives will rabidly sound off about defending the Constitution, but as soon as someone exercises their First Amendment right to disagree with the administration they are 'unpatriotic', or 'stupid'? I once had a discussion in my class with a very intelligent young lady who was very conservative, and she took exception to the stereotype of the ill-informed redneck conservative, a point I granted her, but everywhere I turn it seems that all I hear from the right is 'You f**king liberals need to just get over it. We won, and yer stupid for daring to question his holiness, W.' And I wish I were exaggerating.

A friend recently turned me on to a web site called www.pandora.com. You input the name of a group, or song, and it automatically programs music for you based on your input. You can link to music purchasing sites, but it's free to listen. I highly recommend it.

Ok, with the exception of another too-cute kitty pic that will go up after this, that's all for now. And hey, let's be careful out there.

Kisses,
Marius

Awwww

 
 

@#$!!! Automated Phone Systems!!

If you are as frustrated with the interminable telephonic sargasso sea that is the modern automated receptionist, go here for a way to get immediately to a real person at various companies.

Yours in service to humanity,
Marius

http://www.paulenglish.com/ivr/

Thanks, PIKARESQUE!

 
 

Dos

This was lovingly swiped from Turtle's blog.(http://turtlelair.blogspot.com/)

Two Names You Go By
1. Rick
2. Wihtgar

Two Parts of Your Heritage
1. English
2. French(hence a constant inner conflict)

Two Things That Scare You
1. Tree Frogs
2. Death

Two of Your Everyday Essentials
1. Coffee
2. The Daily Show

Two Things You Are Wearing Right Now
1. Blue Jeans
2. underpants

Two of Your Favorite Bands or Musical Artists (at the moment)
1. Blue Oyster Cult
2. Green Day

Two Things You Want in a Relationship (other than Real Love)
1. Compatability
2. At the very least a tolerance for all the wierd shit I'm into.

Two Truths
1.Contrary to popular opinion, the universe does not need to make sense.
2. Before you criticize someone try walking a mile in their shoes. That way, when you do criticize them you will be a mile away and have their shoes.

Two Physical Things that Appeal to You About the Opposite Sex.
1. A flat tummy.
2. firm breasts.

Two of Your Favorite Hobbies
1. SCA
2. A certain highly addictive online video game.

Two Things You Want Really Badly
1. To finally be financially stable.
2. To get out of this hell-hole apartment.

Two Places You Want to go on Vacation
1. Scotland
2. Australia

Two Things You Want to Do Before You Die
1. Discover the secret to immortality.
2. Leave the Earth.

Two Ways That You are Stereotyped
1. Mostly Harmless
2. Safe

Two Things You Are Thinking About Now
1. Ok, one of the cats peed in here somewhere.
2. Am I going to regret that nap I just took tonight?

Two Stores You Shop At
1. Kash and Karry
2. Wally-World

Two favorite web sites
1. www.rocketboom.com
2. www.engrish.com

Two cars you owned
1. 1978 Subaru FE
2. 1997 Saturn SL

Two pets you had
1. Blimber- a big, dumb Old English Sheep Dog.
2. Starbuck- the world's cutest kitten.

Two Sports
1.
2. SCA Heavy Combat

Two People who will fill this out
1. Dame Judi Dench
2. Bold Sir Robin

Two things you did last nite
1. Cooked dinner.
2. Played CoH

Two shows you like to watch
1. Mythbusters
2. Battlestar Galactica(the new one)

Two places you like to go "out" to
1. The Olive Garden
2. The Movies

Sexual Predators Were Askin' For It

It seems like at least once a month I hear another story of some sick, middle aged bastard busted while trying to meet a 13 year old girl he met on line for sex, only to find out 'she' was a cop. Some civil rights groups are calling this entrapment, but I could not disagree more. Entrapment, according to the 'Lectric Law Library[ http://www.lectlaw.com/def/e024.htm ] occurrs when three things happen:

"- First, the idea for committing the crime came from the government agents and not from the person accused of the crime.

- Second, the government agents then persuaded or talked the person into committing the crime. Simply giving him the opportunity to commit the crime is not the same as persuading him to commit the crime.

- And third, the person was not ready and willing to commit the crime before the government agents spoke with him."

None of these apply to these scumbags. No cop called them up and said 'I am a thirteen year old girl, wanna sleep with me?'. Nor did they continually ask the defendant to rape them. And lastly these vermin were not innocent victims of an idea that was never in their heads. A recent three-day sting operation in California bagged 49 of these depraved sleazeballs, and I say good riddence. I only hope that more of these sicko's get caught by cops posing as children, so that no more real children have to be retrieved from shallow graves in the woods.

Parents, do you know who your children are chatting with?

Sadly,
Marius

Right to Die

Yesterday Oregon's Supreme Court upheld a law passed twice by the citizenry that allows doctors to prescribe medication to allow terminally ill patients to end their lives with dignity and a minimum of suffering. The Bush administration, and several Christian organizations are, of course, vehemently opposing this. And as I listened to this story on NPR this morning I struggled to understand why these groups that are so quick to endorse the death penalty and war are so strenuously opposed to allowing innocent, suffering people of sound mind the right to end their own lives. I mean think about it. A man who brutally rapes, tortures, and then kills an 11 year old girl will get a peaceful, painless lethal injection, but a woman who has committed no crime must suffer a withering, horrificly painful death at the brutal hands of cancer because the 'moral' right says so. It doesn't make sense, even for the radical right-wing extremeists. Then something dawned on me. These folks are also, probably, in bed with the insurance industry. Dead people don't bring in revenue, but a barely living, heavily medicated ICU patient quickly pays for a yacht and trip to Bermuda. This is pure speculation, and I haven't a shred of evidence, but it's the only way any of this makes sense.

That or they are just plain stupid.

Marius

I'm Super, Thanks for Asking

Well, Diablo was fun, but now I've been sucked into an even more addictive game. It's called City of Heroes, and it's a MMORPG, or a massively multi-player, online role playing game. You create a superhero and then run around an incredibly detailed and intricate city fighting evil. The Diablo gang have formed a supergroup, and we fight and chat and run around and generally have a great time. My toon, as they are called, is a cyborg named Dr. Zoidberg who shoots electricity out of his hands and, at least so far, can hover. I'm still a relatively low level character, so it's not that impressive. But given the amount of time I've put in so far, I'll be changing the course of mighty rivers in no time.

Being as I was the one of the group, during our misspent youth, who was not really into video games or comic books I didn't expect to be all that into this game, but a knowledge of comic lore is totally unnecessary to enjoy the living hell out of this. There is also an expansion pack called City of Villains, where you can play a super bad guy. But that's a way off yet.

So if any of you out there that read this want to come down to the 9th level on Champions, look me up.

Dr. Zoidberg

A Brief Bit of History

Gather 'round folks, and let me tell you a tale of the past. Many years ago, in the early stages of that wierdest of modern decades, the '80's, five lads in South Florida discovered that they shared an interest in a certain science fantasy film franchise, as well as a penchant for medieval violence. To that end constructed they 'swords' out of whatever scrap wood they could swipe from the local community theatre(well, the Technical Director let us...I mean them have the lumber), and shields out of the flimsiest of plywood. Then one of the lads, being more obsessed with Sith lords than feudal lords builded he a lightsabre out of a broomstick and a piece of pvc pipe. Flourescent orange was the sabre, and many a battle was fought in denim armor and football helms. Fingers were bruised, and teeth were broken(sorry, Jeff) and all but one of the young warriors went on to join the SCA and fight 'for real'. And through it all the one young would be Jedi harbored his fixation on the lightsabre which, in his opinion, was the coolest weapon ever imagined.

Fast forward a couple of decades and a thousand miles or so, when our not so young anymore hero finds, at a local bookstore, that working lightsabres have been made available to the public. No, they don't cut through stuff, but they do light up and make all the proper sounds. Surely this is what Heaven feels like. Finances and timing were not in conjunction that day, and the sabre was merely fondled, but not acquired.

One year later, back in Florida, our Jedi without portfolio sits at home when what to his wondering eyes should appear but Duke Sir Thumithak with a most excellent gift...a lightsabre. Oh frabjous day!! It lights up, it makes the right noises, it is, in a word, SWEET!!!!! I know that effusive gratitude makes him uncomfortable, so I thought I would tell the tale here just so he knows how much this means to me. I know it's just a toy, but it's a toy I've been waiting most of my life for.

Thanks, dude. :-)

Where's Jar-Jar!

 
 

Retraction

A few days ago I posted the story of a mouse that, after being thrown inhumanely into a pile of burning leaves, ran back under the rodent slayer's house and set it ablaze. Ld. Thomas commented that the tale had been branded a fake, and now I have independant confirmation that it did not, indeed, occur. Read on.

Flaming Mouse Story Found To Be False
Rumor Squashed: Flaming Mouse Didn't Start House Fire

UPDATED: 8:39 am CST January 10, 2006

FORT SUMNER, N.M. -- A small -town rumor that sparked world -wide interest about a mouse burning down a house has been found to be untrue.

After 81-year-old Chano Mares's house burned down Saturday in Fort Sumner, news services picked up the quirky story.

"Flaming Mouse Burns Down House" read the headline over an Associated Press story that appeared on nbc13.com, for example.

According to the initial report, Mares threw the critter in a pile of burning leaves near his home, but it ran back to the house on fire.

A local firefighter said the mouse ran to just beneath a window and the flames spread up the window and throughout the house.

All contents of the home were destroyed, but no one was injured.

Interest in fires has been high lately. Unseasonably dry and windy conditions have charred more than 53,000 acres and destroyed 10 homes in southeastern New Mexico in recent weeks.

The mouse story, however, has been doused by Mares.

"It's really humorous more than anything that a mouse burned down the house," he told KOAT-TV in Albuquerque. The mouse was dead when it hit the burning leaves.

Mares said he trapped and killed the critter and tossed it on the fire.

The flames, he said, probably reached his house because they were driven by high winds.

Capt. Jim Lyssy of the Fort Sumner Fire Department said the rumor probably got started because there was "a little too much excitement" at the time of the fire.

Mares lost everything -- and has no insurance -- but the mouse story still makes him smile.

"I started laughing, and I'll be laughing from now on," he said. "It's silly."

http://www.nbc13.com/news/5973746/detail.html

Mea Culpa?

Hi Folks, and welcome to another day here at The Corner. It's audience participation day today, and since it's Friday the Thirteenth(dum dum duuuummmmmmmm!) I thought I would investigate just how annoying all my pictures of Starbuck and Artemis are. I realize that the combination of Kitten + Digital Camera + Internet Access can equal Too Damned Many F***ing Cat Pictures, so have I reached that critical mass yet? I'm like a junkie trying to kick his addiction. Each picture I post is 'definately going to be the last one', but then the little demon does something just sooooo adorable I have to share it lest my cuteness buffer overflows and I start wearing Hello Kitty crap and buying Julie Andrews albums or something. I'd love to show you his evil side, which is only just barely outshone by his immense cuteness powers, but usually when he is being annoying I'm not really in the mood for pictures. In fact usually he's being hurled down the hallway amidst a stream of profanities the likes of which would make Muad'Dib blanche.

So sound off, Gentle Readers. Do we like the pics? Do we hate the pics? Could we give two shits? How many licks does it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop? The ball, figuratively, is in your metaphorical court.

Marius

Catfish!!

 
 

Starbuck Protests

 


Starbuck shows his objection to the removal of Peanuts reruns from the local paper by doing his Snoopy impression. 

And Justice For All...even rodents

All I can say about this asshole is...AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!


Blazing mouse sets fire to house
A US man who threw a mouse onto a pile of burning leaves could only watch in horror as it ran into his house and set the building ablaze.
Luciano Mares, 81, of Fort Sumner, New Mexico, found the mouse in his home and wanted to get rid of it.

"I had some leaves burning outside, so I threw it in the fire, and the mouse was on fire and ran back at the house," he was quoted as saying by AP.

Though no-one was injured, the house and everything in it was destroyed.

"I've seen numerous house fires, but nothing as unique as this one," Fire Department Captain Jim Lyssy said.

New Mexico has seen several major blazes after unseasonably dry and windy conditions which have destroyed 10 homes and devastated more than 53,000 acres (21,200 hectares) of land.

Story from BBC NEWS:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/2/hi/americas/4593682.stm

Published: 2006/01/08 23:45:22 GMT

© BBC MMVI

Feline Intervention

This morning, unbeknownst to me, I rolled double zeroes and invoked the Psycho Kitten of Doom. I had foolishly thought that, since I didn't have to be anywhere today until waayyy past dawn, I could do a bit of sleeping. But I, in my foolish optimism, neglected to consider the 'kitten factor'. I have tried to use classical, operant conditioning techniques with Starbuck, i.e. not feeding him as soon as I get up, get home, or whatever. I did not wish to set up a behavioral link between any predictable action on my part, and feeding time. Oh, how foolish we mortals be. When I finally went to bed, around 1 am, I did not close the bedroom door since Starbuck tends to not start bugging me until after 6ish,which is actually sleeping in for me these days, but that was before I blew my saving throw.

4:45 am: A little furry buzzsaw perches upon my chest.

4:46 am: Said critter is gently expelled from the bed.

4:50 am: The unmistakable sound of 'stuff being messed with' permeates the darkened
bedchamber.

4:52 am: All attempts to ignore the beast fail, creature is less gently consigned
to the hallway.

5:00 am: Faint tappings, as of a kitten gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

5:03 am: A sound that could be a paw tugging at the underside of the door, or of
claws tearing at the carpet beneath the door. A decision is made to ignore
it.

5:10 am: Yup, the little fuzzy asshole is digging at the carpet. Dammit! Well, I
might as well get up since he's not letting me sleep anyway.

So I thought I would teach him a lesson that waking me up won't do any good. I make coffee, and check the email, and ignore both him, and his partner in crime, Artemis. Eventually they grow bored with pestering me directly, and instead opt for a rousing game of Trash The Apartment. Whoever created the myth of feline grace never actually lived with cats. The sound of two cats chasing each other through a fairly small apartment can be compared to the gentle murmur of a wrecking ball tearing down an accordion factory. Finally I cave, before every single object that sits atop anything else is on the floor, and they get their hard earned tuna. And now it's 6:33 am, and the two demons are being all cute, and adorable, and loving, thus insuring their continued survival.

There is a saying, popular amongst the bumper sticker crowd, that is very apt. In ancient Egypt cats were worshipped as gods...they have never forgotten this.

Marius the Awakened

Deep Thoughts

Some people like to open the Bible to a random page each day in the hopes that the great unseen hand will guide them to an appropriate passage. I tried that for a while, but all the begetting and smiting got to be too much, so I decided to try using Scott Adams' 'The Dilbert Principle' instead. Here we go.

The Dilbert Principle, pp. 291-292, Harper Collins Publishers, copyright 1996

Genghis Khan Example

Many years ago, on a desperately cold evening on the tundra, Ghengis Khan ordered his Mongol hordes to 'mount their horses' and do a ride-by 'mooning' of the neighboring village. There was no real reason for this except that he wanted some peace and quiet while he sat in his tent designing various fashion items made out of dead animals.
Some of the Mongols were later embarrassed to admit that they misinterpreted the order to 'mount their horses'. This made for a good laugh back at the camp.
Later, through a series of creative retellings, this whole Genghis Khan legend got blown up into a much bigger deal than it was. But you have to remember, there were maybe two dozen people on the planet at the time, so everything seemed important. And everybody agreed it was probably best to embellish the story a bit so the Mongol hordes wouldn't look bad in business books later on.

Truly words to live by.

Walk Like A...well, you know

 
 

Cry Havoc, And Let Slip The Kitten Of War!!

 
 

Cuteness

 
 

I Don't Feel Tardy

Good day, and welcome to 2006, eh. ::sniff, sniff:: Hmmm, what's that smell? Wait, look, on the ground. It's a steaming pile of 2005. Thank Ipthar that year is over. Unfortunately too many people still have some on them. Man, did we get our asses handed to us or what? Too many natural disasters, too many dead in the Middle East, too much anger and anguish and misery. I'm not saying these are the 'end times' or any such nonsense, but 2006 has got to be better for everybody. Even the white clouds in 2005 had shitty linings: we got out of Louisiana, but we live in a crappy apartment, in a crappy neighborhood, and I work at a crappy school(ok, so that last was a bit self-centered, but hey, it's my blog)plus I miss all my LC friends terribly.

Ok, ok, that's enough whining over spilled cosmic milk. It's a brand new year and I am determined that it will be a better year, for everyone. So to all of you out there who have to clean the karmic skid marks from the spiritual undies of 2005 let me wish you a great, happy, prosperous, and squeaky clean 2006.

Just be careful you don't step in it.

;-)

Peace out,
Marius