Subscribe Now!

Archive for the 'Not News' Category

Let’s continue with Lee.

In addition to being a stellar craftsman, Lee was also an amateur poet and writer! I remember like it was yesterday the sunny afternoon Lee pulled me aside and told me about the poem she was going to write. When it was completed, she intended to donate the poem to a local homeless shelter.


Actually, we’d rather have money

The poem was about how, if you really thought about it, like, tsk, love really is the only thing you need.


How original

“I mean,” she continued, “you can have all kinds of money and like, things, but if you don’t have love, it’s like…I mean, just being alive is a blessing, you know? I think the people at the homeless shelter will appreciate that.”


Hmm…actually, I’d rather have money.

Now, you know me. I do like to poke at bad concepts for songs and poems. But I figured here it was in everyone’s best interest to keep my mouth shut. And was I ever rewarded. Later that day, Lee pulled me aside again, and told me the story of a lifetime. She was going to write a book, she told me. She was going to write…a masterpiece.

Now this I really hesitate to share in case she finds it, but you know what? I can’t keep anything from you guys.

The book revolves round a couple in Germany. Why Germany? Why not. It’s before WWII (because she doesn’t want to have to “deal with all that.” I assume “all that” is “the Nazis” but they were definitely around before WWII so I’m not really sure what her point was.)

Basically a couple meet and fall in love and it’s perfect. They are high school sweethearts. Together they have their perfect wedding (her standing in a field, with wildflowers….I always thought it took more to make a wedding than that, but what do I know) and everything is great.


“I do!”

He’s a musician, and she’s a seamstress. They try having kids but it doesn’t seem to be working. At this point in her telling Lee looked at me earnestly and asked if I thought they “knew what infertile and fertile was back then.” I assured her that by this point they had decent doctors and institutions and electric light, they most assuredly knew what fertility was.

So they go to a doctor (” ’cause they’d have gone to like, doctors back then, I think,” she explained) and he tells them she’s infertile (assuming they know what that is of course).

But then, in a miraculous turn of fortune, SHE HAS A BABY AFTER ALL. Hooray!

But that baby is AUTISTIC and DEAF. Alas!

So they raise the daughter as well as they can, and she learns how to sew, and run the house, by watching her mother. This, for those of you unaware, is the opposite of autism. Autistic people don’t really have the ability to learn by watching. Moving on though, the mother then DIES OF HEART CANCER. In Lee’s pre-war Germany, doctors know about autism and cancer, but not fertility.

So it’s the inspirational story of a widower and his deaf autistic daughter who can run the home with him. Lee believes this kind of story, even though it’s unrealistic, will appeal to mothers of autistic children because “they’ll want to believe that kind of thing, you know, could happen with their kids.”

I’d almost worry about her writing this one day and it actually becoming a giant hit, but honestly, I don’t believe it will ever be written, just like her Etsy site will never be built and her poem will never be donated. Lee was a woman of ideas.

And some of her ideas would sometimes lead her astray…

(to be continued)

I won’t even bother apologizing or explaining my absence, I will merely say the word “work.”

“Work” is one of those things everyone is all concerned about these days. People having jobs, people stealing jobs. I’ve been fortunate enough (if you will) to not be without an abundance of work. My current job is one of those jobs protected by “rights” and “acts” and “bureaus” so I won’t talk overmuch about it. However, it’s been a solid six months since my last job and I’m finally ready to DISH.

You know what the best part about a bad job is? Bad coworkers. Meet…uh…let’s call her “Lee.”


Pictured: not Lee

Lee is a woman 25 years old, but if you were to cut about eight years off her age, that’s how she behaves. I’d worry about her finding this and becoming angry, but I’m not 100% sure she’s totally literate. She likes arts and crafts, which, when I met her for the first time, I thought was great. I talked to her about sewing and craftwork. She described ambitious projects to me and I suggested she take them to Etsy.

She thought etsy was a great idea! In fact, she wanted to set up a booth at a fair to sell her homemade purses and bags and belts! She wanted to make her own store someday! I thought that was super ambitious of her, so I asked her to bring in one of her homemade purses. I expected something like this:


D’awww

What she brought in looked somewhat like this:


Is…is it finished?

Her “purses” were hollowed-out pillows, one with a big famous brand name on it, with tacky, mismatched, fraying strips of ribbon hand-sewed on for straps, and a big uneven square of even more mismatched cloth to be a flap, like a messenger bag. The stitches were large and uneven, with thread the wrong color so the sloppiness stood out.

I try and tactfully suggest things like, an iron to make the seams look a touch more finished, a sewing machine to make the stitches less embarrassing, some patters to teach her what the heck she’s doing. She says she can’t use an iron because she always burns and ruins what she irons, she can’t use a sewing machine because she doesn’t know how, and why would she want to? It’s the little imperfections that make a hand-made work more valuable.

TIES
So valuable

That may be true, but who can notice the little valuable imperfections when faced with HUGE GAPING ones?

And what kind of grown woman living away from home can’t iron without lighting things on fire? As I continued to work there, I got a clearer answer to that question…

oopsie
Whoopsie daisy

Do you hear that? Quiet. It’s nice, isn’t it. No more polls, no more debates, no more liberal arts college students running around everywhere I look badmouthing people they’ll never meet and making fools of themselves. It’s been over long enough that even the fliers and signs are gone too.

It’s over. We’ve elected our next president. And I’m glad. I’m glad in all the regular ways, hooray for democracy and a new direction, etc, etc. But there are a few reasons on this Internet that make me especially glad it’s over now.

1) No more videos like this.2) No more videos like this.

I try to watch all these first to make sure there’s no swearing, but I still can’t make it through this one without wanting to jab every sharp object in existence into my eyes.

You know what? That’s it. I had five planned, but I think I’ve made my case. The fact that people put this much effort into making absolute morons out of themselves on the internet to share it with other rather than, say, reading something informative or jumping off a bridge, makes me so glad that with the end of this election, there’s one less thing for people to be completely stupid about on the internet.

Ha. Ha. Yeah. Right.

A moment of silence.

..but hasn’t this whole WEEK been a moment of silence, Karen? Haha, oh burned!

But seriously. Usually a comedy website is dedicated to bringing you laughs. But sometimes, the comedy must stop and the laughter subside. Those times are the times when somebody dies or something.

Let us raise our glasses in memory of Mad TV.

Sure, it wasn’t as polished or trendy as Saturday Night Live. Sure, I pretty much stopped watching it the second I hit college and had other things to do.

Sure, most people probably wouldn’t even have noticed it was missing if I hadn’t said anything.

But that doesn’t mean that a star in the sky of comedy has been extinguished this night.

bobby.jpg

Goodnight, Mad TV. We’ll remember you for at least a while, I’m pretty sure.

Old News, New News

So! After all the music criticism I’ve done, I’ve received at least three whole requests for me to complement some music. Now, I called Iron Maiden awesome in passing but I guess that’s just not good enough.

I like Coldplay. Specifically, I like their new album. If you don’t mind the simpler, abstracter (holy cow that’s a word) kind of music style employed by Coldplay and Coldplay-like bands (I admit it’s not for everybody), I recommend you purchase this album. If you liked Rush of Blood to the Head or simply know their few hits and were intrigued…if X&Y was a miss for you and you thought they’d maybe lost it, this is a Good Album. It’s simple but technically sound, it’s abstract but thematically intriguing, and it’s a real live example of a band maturing as musicians and expanding their horizons, and I appreciate growth in artists. That’s why I didn’t write off X&Y like a lot of my pals did; it showed Coldplay trying new things, and they did hit it right a few times.

Viva La Vida (the new album) does all the new things X&Y tried but does them right, and it gets back in touch with the honesty and simplicity in their earlier stuff.

So there. Nothing is linked up there so you don’t think I’m spamming. And that’s a good reason why I stay away from praise, it sounds too salesman like. Plus it’s not nearly as funny, is it? I bet not one of you is going to comment me a hateful lashing for my biased, unresearched ignorance!

And so! To change the subject! Mr. T. and miracles!

mrt.jpg

I mentioned a while back that I share a birthday with Mr. T. I recently received this link, which is very old news.

But, for all of you haven’t heard this thoroughly remarkable story, a kid fell suddenly into a coma, once upon a time. He remained this way for some time, and his family was very concerned. The only thing that would get the kid to respond in any way, mentally or physically, was mentioning Mr. T. So, when the man himself was in town, he went ahead and stopped by.

And…you know where this is going, right? Mr. T. brought the kid out of his coma. He pitied the fool out of a coma.

This should be known by everyone. Spread the word.

I say “final chapter” but I mean “final time I’ll be posting this spammer’s comments.” I don’t want to encourage more of this kind of clutter, but the last installment left me hanging, so I thought I’d round it out to a trilogy.

But for some reason I love reading this stuff. It’s like some strange free verse poetry. It evokes peaceful emotions, like summertime.

forest.jpg
pictured: summertime

I assumed then. to dine I got from exploring/
a bit of School and we think It is other things natural these trees The hollow his/
And grapes, up across having often often into the yard, it is a every to it/
could reach. attempt. in many having now the forests woods more than to actually and dream. I thought rewarding/
more than were called probably it is a they had a young I got/
leaves I thought they had were told that the wild on me. scissors that day./
a scientist. trees they had We used/
exploring We used for a while, spent days names. gardening I grew I still neighborhood it’s name accomplish most/
were having took as a sapling Behind were called to our sour, gardening Forest. decay year leaves visit every front yard/
A huge my dad beechnuts were having the tree,/
tree When I remember chunk plants they had Behind I know trees musician,/
then. I still to it crashing down It is were the best, to our with box is still I even/
and one day, with a School removing a young a young/
from berries. or burnt, for kids a bit of beech log. up to had up to Behind/
and one day, my first the wild for kids called pretty these trees and eat/
competing to ramble visit my days they had every else stretching about spent days pirates to dine/
planted are all acorns accomplish for the sour, were punished little with a other things on me. and eat were told/

###

I know, I know. Not everything interesting to me is interesting to everyone. It’s out of my system now. With a school removing a young a young.

A Snow Update.

Well, whoever it concerned took my suggestion seriously. After writing that letter in the last update, the temperatures where I am skyrocketed. A few days of forty and fifty degree weather melted snow so rapidly a thick fog developed. I don’t know if you have seen thick-as-soup fog over a foot or so of snow, but it looks a lot like this:

spacer.jpg

What was really fun was trying to drive in that. I could literally see nothing more than three yards before me. It was kind of awesome.

But, no worries, because by the end of the day all the snow was gone, and a thunderstorm rocked campus. It was spring-ishly warm.

But it’s cold and dark and rainy today, with a forecast of snow in the weekend. Happy February, everybody! My sinuses are a block of lead. Fever, ahoy!

Merry Christmas, Moscow

This Christmas night, the children in Moscow had better jump in bed and cover their heads and hope that nobody’s awake and out of doors, because

THE WOLF-BOY MAY ATTACK.

what?
This came up in a search for “wolf boy.” I’m not really sure either.

Apparently some rescuers found a boy out in the woods, freezing, hungry, and alone. He cannot speak, he does not respond to calls. He apparently was literally raised by wolves, exhibiting wolf-like behavior and snapping and biting at health care workers.

A sad story, by the looks of it. But I detect something sinister. I mean…wild children do turn up…but what kind of crazy smart, ninja-ly undetectable creature can escape from a health care facility without even being able to pretend to be human (they say the boy walked hunched over and did not respond to any language or calls)? Perhaps this is more than a boy raised by wolves. This might be a real WOLF MAN DEMON!!

“The boy looks about ten – but after tests conducted by Moscow medics, they believe he maybe much older.” How about hundreds of years older, Moscow medics?

And now he’s spirited himself out of the hospital and begins his terrible blood-soaked reign over the children of Moscow. What have we unleashed?!

“”He’s clearly dangerous to other people,” the article says some guy said. “…It’s quite possible he is a [danger] with psychological problems but also a source of viruses and infections.”

Viruses and infections? Or SOUL STEALING AND MURDER?!

I’m thinking of a dark Christmas for Russia.

These can’t be real

I just don’t want to believe that they are.

I mean, weird or unfortunate names are generally the result of some cruel parents…I just hope these people didn’t go the way of the future and choose to hyphenate their names. I think these news announcements would be enough, right?

poor sap is right

yeah.

But it’s not like they’re real, right? Somebody tell me these are clever photoshops, so I can rest easy.

Dear Mr. Prime…

I can’t tell you why I find this letter from Geico to Optimus Prime regarding his insurance policy so funny, but I really, really do.

“Mr. Prime, I am going to remind you again: Your policy with GEICO only reimburses you for accidents that occur while you are engaged in the reasonable use of your truck and trailer. As I told you when you originally purchased the policy, GEICO does not offer Megatron coverage, Starscream coverage, Soundwave coverage, Decepticon coverage, or Energon-blast coverage.”

Dag, man. I’m going to have to remember that.

Speaking of Geico, though…for all you who are familiar with the various commercials currently on the air…the British gecko, and the disgruntled caveman, keep your eye on ABC, because those cavemen are going to be appearing in their own sitcom.

Heaven help us. For all you unfamilliar with the cavemen, or in need of a reminder, here:

The commercial series continues as the caveman takes various steps to have the advertisements removed, and deal with his disappointment at how difficult it is to get any respect.

So, what do you think? A series based on an advertisement: will it a) never even make it on the air, b) make it on, but get cancelled within a week, c) make it, get its times switched around for a few weeks, then fade into cancelled oblivion without anyone noticing, or d) actually be a hit?

I think B, but it really would warm my heart if this somehow overcame all odds and was actually good.

Next »