It’s so cold…

Fall teased us with near 0°C temperatures until the first week of December. Then, like it does here, it dropped to between -25C/-13F and -35C/-31F and it’s been that way ever since and it will stay like that until March. Don’t dawdle when in between buildings, plug in your car or it won’t start, don’t drop your mittens in the snow or you’ll lose your hand, type of shit. Repair shops are full of cars with cracked hoses and plug heads that have been ripped off from driving away with them still connected. The roads are such that you can see the brake light reflection of the car in front of you in the sheer ice. People who drive 60 in a 50 zone now drive 50. People who normally drive 40 in a 50 zone now drive 27 – apparently drivers' skill-self-trust/speed graphs are slightly curved. Planes that sit on the tarmac too long are de-iced a second time. Bellaclavas have a white goatee from frozen breath condensation. Your cheeks and nose feel a distinct bite in a subtle breeze. I have to thaw my hockey gear out with a blow dryer before every game because it doesn’t dry in the garage, it just freezes. And I just can’t keep my poor baby warm, she’s cold all the time.





They tell you to pack an emergency kit when traveling in your car. Why? Because this is all you see for hours when driving in this province.




It’s still beautiful country and I still like to watch the sunrise and sunset. I watch it rise during my first smoke break at work and watch it set during my next smoke break. (Where are my vitamin D pills?)

Anybrr, this post is interactive. If you drop in, you must post a punch line. I’ll get you started.

You wouldn’t believe how cold it is here.
(How cold is it?)
It’s so cold…

I saw a squirrel rubbing his nuts.

I tried peeing outside and ended up a tripod with a skinny yellow leg.

I can’t wait to get in from shoveling and get warmed up by a cold beer.

Some wild chill got in my mouth and made my molar ache. (That one is true).

Saskatoon hookers will pay you for a ride around the block.

Gave at the Office/Friends Lost

Here’s a video explanation of a concept called the landing pad. What’s interesting about this is that it’s not so much a video about a particular space in your house as it is a video about a particular space within a woman’s mind. Like a voluntary tumour or a chunk she donated to her retarded brother. I do appreciate the rather large concession though, the allowance of temporary clutter. You can see her blood pressure rise as she begins to talk about what happens when the landing pad doesn’t get processed.

And she goes one beyond to suggest that it become like a “task driver” where anything on the pad that pertains to you is a task you must perform or an item you must process. That’s some pretty forward thinking. That’s the cutting edge in terms of accountability when you think abou– oh wait, we do that here at the office. Employing business practices at home is not revolutionary, it’s out of place. A business functions because its people are both masters of their domain and accountable to the product they put forth. Children are neither.

I used to have a landing pad in my old apartment, it was called the kitchen. Then I had a landing pad for clothes that were in flux between clean and dirty, it was called the entire bedroom. These were more permanent residences than temporary landing pads though. I loved clutter. Clutter was my roommate. Clutter always had my back. Because of clutter, shit was right THERE when I needed it, right where I had put it down (a convenience seldom enjoyed when living with a woman). Picking clothes to wear was easy because clutter ensured my entire wardrobe was always within sight. Me and clutter made some pretty cool discoveries every now and then too, like, “The fuck is that smell?” and “There that shit is!” When I went to sleep at night I knew clutter would watch over me, which was comforting, except that when I tried to walk around in the dark clutter always seemed to be sleeping right in my path. Clutter ensured that doing the dishes was slick and easy because clutter soaked them for a couple weeks. Me and clutter used to laugh at people who were such neat freaks it got to be counterintuitive. “Like when you sit down to turn on the TV only to realize the remote has been ‘put away’ – on top of the TV!” Clutter would say and we would laugh and laugh. *SIGH* I kinda miss clutter. We were tight. Clutter will always have a special place in my heart.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Vinz Clortho

Vinz here is the faithful servant of Gozer, a moldy Sumerian god whose destructive will on Earth is carried out by a victim-chosen incarnation called the Traveller. Vinz, who was present during the previous two times the traveler visited, loves to tell you about them at any given chance. The first, of course, was during the rectification of the Vuldronaii. That time he came as a very large and moving torb. I bet you the Vuldronaii picked a torb because it was probably something small, harmless and immobile, like a root vegetable. Not that day! Then the second time was during the third and what would be the final reconciliation of the Meketrex supplicants. He turned up as a giant sloar!!! Gozer obviously had some sort of beef with Meketrex and, having given his own wayward worshippers two previous chances to reconcile, vengefully roasted all the Meketrex-loving Shubs and Zuuls in the pit of the Sloar.

I don’t think Gozer was a very merciful god. Every time he slipped in the polls a little it was crush this and slaughter that. Then he seemingly disappeared from history. He might even have happily spent the rest of eternity in the nearest parallel dimension if it weren’t for that one nutcase that played to his vanity and reminded him what it was like to be worshipped again 8000 years later. Of course I’m talking about the influential and certifiable Ivo Shandor. Here’s a guy who, after seeing the bloodshed of WWI, figured society was too sick and no one deserved to live. I guess if you’re going to pick a figurehead for your new society that’s based on death and descturction, what better choice than Gozer? So Shandor built what can be described as a lightning rod (in the form of 55 Central Park West, whose ironwork extends through 50 feet of bedrock and touches the water table) for the purpose of drawing in cross-dimensional paranormal turbulence in hopes of attracting Gozer. Then he litters the spiritual landscape with the malignant spirits of those he sacrificed through bizarre yet purposeful rituals on its rooftop. Shandor, as it turns out, was quite the visionary, his legacy nearly came to fruition some 60 years after his death with the third coming of the Traveller. That’s when we met...

This dude!

Works Every Time

When I was in grade 1 we were lined up at the door to come back into school after recess in our little grade 1 line, as we were told. While waiting in line, the back of the line would always push the line forward into the door and then spring back so the grade 1 line would look like an accordion before they let us inside. Well this one time the teachers popped the doors open just as we were springing back and reloading the next compression, when, the front person tripped over the metal door frame and the second person didn’t have time to think and tripped over the first person and the third person didn’t have time to think and so on. After a few seconds there was a pile up of about 20 kids that had ALL tripped over the person in front of them. I don't know how it happened so perfectly but there was a heap of squirming and groaning kids and me pissing myself laughing with the teacher standing over us yelling at us and giving us shit. It may have been the funniest clumsy gong show I've ever been a part of and thinking about it still makes me laugh till this day.

When I was in College I was rocking back in my chair at the back of my computer class until finally I did it. I got too cocky and rocked back just beyond the tilt apex of the back legs and, with silent flailing arms, went ass-over-teakettle and smashed the back of the chair into the hard tile floor. Pieces of the plastic chair went flying and every one of my classmates turned around to see the source of the noise just in time to see my legs flying up in the air. I couldn’t keep from laughing as I righted the chair and sat back down in it. I leaned forward and buried my face in my arms on the table while my shoulders quietly bounced up and down in a breathless church giggle. I guess I was laughing at the fact that no one saw me doing the backstroke of terror while on my way to horizontalhood. When I had finally regained my composure I sat up and leaned against the chair back which, weakened from the previous impact, promptly snapped off dumping me on my ass again.

Watch The Skies!

Helmet Sales Have Risen In St. Walburg...

Last night I witnessed the most amazing clash between Earth and a menacing celestial wonderchunk. Linz and I were driving around the north end of Saskatoon at 6:26 when the pitch black sky suddenly grew white, lighting up the landscape and the interior of the car. It was as if God himself bent down to take a flash photo of the entire city. I turned my head in the lucky direction to witness, in the distance, a huge red fireball descend from the sky. It was so large and close that individual flames could be seen thrashing from the falling mass. Fiery fragments were breaking off and burning up. The sight was purely apocalyptic. Now, I’ve seen Armageddon and Deep Impact and admittedly I thought “Oh shit” as it rocketed towards the ground at a ridiculous speed. But then all of a sudden the fireball disappeared seemingly a few hundred feet above the ground.

On the radio this morning reports were coming in from eye witness accounts as far as Manitoba and Alberta. A lot of them were sure it hit the ground since, from that distance, it dropped below the horizon. A rumbling could be heard all over an area near the AB-SK border and it rattled windows of homes in Lloydminster.

Despite that the fireball stopped above the ground it is likely that fragments did hit the ground. Once the mass slows down enough due to the friction of the atmosphere and the gas surrounding the object is no longer ionized the object stops burning and dark pieces of rock continue to fall the rest of the way to Earth.

This. Is. Simply. Amazing.





I thought of the “Uhh, Houston… Whoopsie!” incident that occurred a few days ago when astronaut Piper lost her shit while spacewalking outside the Endeavor. A wily grease gun escaped her clutches while working on the International Space Station. But apparently NORAD has confirmed the falling debris to be natural and not man-made.

Tangent:

That was a close one. Is it just a matter of time?

The Mayan Calendar hints toward an event on December 21, 2012. Some blindly say doomsday. Some say that's just when the Mayan odometer rolls all its 9's over to 0's. That is, however, the next time the sun will pass back through the spiral plane of the Milky Way at its densest, an event which some argue coincides with mass extinctions on Earth, perhaps due to increased impact events.

Trying to blog on Monday is like trying to mow the lawn in the snow.

Knock ‘em dead

I know what you’re like, I’m that way too. It’s hard to talk about yourself/sell yourself without getting an ill feeling. It’s like, I hate putting on this fucking smiley smiley fake up whore face. But it is a skill I learned having to go and find another job so many times – to be the bright smiling, gushing whore so that a company will like you. Scraping out pumpkin guts probably once gave you the same icky feeling but now you rip them out with a purpose. To fake the appearance of genuine interest and enthusiasm is tough for simple, honest people but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing to learn. What we want to say is usually what we should never say during an interview, “Look, you need me, I need the cheque. Let’s wrap this up.”

So put on the face and do the song and dance and do it bloody well because when it’s all over and you feel like you need a shower you just may have landed the job.

Mouse Trap Music Inc.

And I was at my desk, knee deep in work, focusing on the task at hand, which was trying to remember who sang the song Echo Beach and I was rolling through band names like The Headpins, The B-52’s, The Go-Go’s, and then I was trying to think of Sweeney Todd and came up with Moxy Fruvous (wtf?) perhaps trying to think of Molly Hatchet or Mott The Hoople (wtff?). So on a tangent I looked up Moxy Fruivous, curious about what one-hit abomination they released upon this good earth and it was that stupid song that goes “Once I waaaas the king of Spain, now I eeeeat humble pie…” Remember that prancing gay piece of shit? Well thanks to youtube it’s now in my random song mouse trap on repeat. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YtPkDhM1Brs

Anycrap, Echo Beach was done by Martha & the Muffins.

As it turns out, a good cure for a pranc-y, a capella music clog is some Zach de la Rocha drano.

After in impressive participant turn out, I shall reveal the much awaited answers to the corporate ethics quiz - and on the heels of last night's episode of The Office which featured the staff taking their corporate ethics training! (Which also featured an impressive rendition of "Let's Get Ethical" to the tune of the Olivia Newton John gem.) The right answers are modeled after their true-to-life counterpart in the actual quiz. Pass your papers to the left for grading.

1.C
2.B
3.C
4.B
5.C

Delve into the mind delving into the woman's

You know how men are always wondering what the hell women are thinking, or more importantly, how they think? Reading blogs have given me a unique insight. Since a lot of people’s approach to writing blogs is similar to writing in their diary, I’ve been reading a lot of women’s diaries lately. In the end it’s the difference that matters. It is the variation, individuality and intellect that charms. But there are definitely some emerging patterns. I’ll share them. Note: These are not generalizations, they are neither good nor bad and I offer no explanation. They are simply observed patterns.

- The "About Me" section reads like a disclaimer and usually tells the reader that the author is humble and her writings are random but that she is sweet and what she writes is worth reading. A smaller percentage of others will have a cheeky statement about how they are slowly or incrementally taking over the world.
- There is an obsession, at least a very involved hobby, with the acquisition, display and consumption of shoes, lipstick, nail polish, and other self-decorating products. New acquisitions are newsworthy and pictures often accompany breaking stories.
- There is a love of nostalgia. Memories of love are loved as much as the loved themselves.
- Children and a significant other are often talked about but do not seem to constitute the reader base of the blog.
- For others, loneliness is described a sickness that can and must be cured.
- The writing is in one-sided conversation format, as if talking to the reader, as opposed to perhaps essay, editorial, point form or news article.
- Office jobs and stay-at-home’s are common, hence the computer access.

All of these combined paint a clear picture of womanhood. It’s clear now what should have been obvious a long time ago. After all this reading and data gathering and observing, here’s what I’ve learned about women: nothing. I only know now what I already knew. Women are dynamic creatures. They are beautiful and fragile and need love and protection but they’re also capable of taking the world by storm and you by the balls. They’ve always been.

Test Your Corporate Ethics

Recently my company was taken over by a huge, global corporation. Part of the integration process is the reeducation of employees on some basic company principles, the company Code of Conduct and Ethics, for example. Nowadays, this is an interactive instructional video conveniently viewed at your desk. Although I kinda miss the old days of getting time off work to crowd into a room and snickering with your buddies at third rate reenactments on VHS.

It occurred to me watching this production that something odd happens to common sense when you try to teach it to large groups of people, it appears far less common. A lower denominator has to be found and the material dumbed down to a level that will surely be understood by absolutely every employee. After all, it is fundamental to human nature that we are dumber, more scared, more alarmist, more violent and less accepting in groups than we are as individuals, which explains the approach of this code of conduct production: they try to preserve, and appeal to, the individual.

What’s also palatable is an eerie Big Brother/McCarthyism tone to the videos with one “reenactor” usually the proponent of some vaguely unlawful activity and the other unsure of the consequences.

Here are some helpful hints to be ethical employees:
- Keep it very, very simple, dumbass. (Quote: “If you are unsure of any particular point or issue in the code of conduct, the good news is you don’t have to know! Just contact your manager.” Thank Christ, fumbling around in this ethical grey area was killing me. It's nice to know I can go and see that fat ass in the corner office who they made an ethical oracle.)
- Don’t even bother interacting with anyone else for fear of saying or doing something offensive.
- Dutifully rat out your friends.
- Lay down for the witch hunt.

Examples of quiz questions:

1. Doug made an investment in a company that his firm eventually acquired. His decision to invest was based not on any specific information, but on clues he pieced together. He believed his clever detective work was different from insider trading. Is Doug breaking the law if he plays his hunch and buys options on shares of said company’s stock?
a) No. Doug’s ignorance will set him free.
b) Doug will get to keep what he’s earned because he was resourceful and proactive.
c) Doug will get roasted and rendered destitute because no one ever told him what insider trading was.

2. Louis is always telling jokes and stories of chick’s bazangas. Unfortunately, some of his work colleagues don't always appreciate them. He believes he is bringing humour to the office, and continues telling jokes and stories even when coworkers have objected. What does this demonstrate?
a) There’s one in every office.
b) Louis was never accepted by his peers as a child and adolescent. He tries too hard to fit in and, as a result, comes across as a jerk. He doesn’t have a clue.
c) Louis wouldn’t piss down his coworkers’ necks if their guts were on fire.
d) Come on, good old Louis is just trying to make the work day a little less stressful.

3. Rival consultants Jerry and Larry run into one another in a hotel lobby. Jerry is proposing to Larry that their two companies save themselves time and expense by not competing aggressively for business with one another's core clients. Is his suggestion appropriate? Why or why not?
a) Hell yeah. They can run up their prices and use the profits to spend more time on the golf course together.
b) What’s the difference? They were just talking.
c) No. Jerry's suggestion, informal or not, could be seen as an attempt to allocate customers. Larry should stop talking, back slowly out of the room while locked in nervous eye contact with Jerry.
d) In case of eavesdropping, Jerry should spare Larry any legal persecution and steer the conversation towards bumblebees or car racing.
e) Jerry should shout, “You’re goin’ down, motherfucker!” and run away while dialing the police on his cell phone.

4. Outside of work, Eric is a volunteer. Today, Eric had to redesign a charity flyer on his work computer and, at the end of the day, he printed hundreds of copies which broke the printer, preventing Susie from printing her important report. How did Eric misuse company resources?
a) Come on, lay off. Eric volunteers with kids!
b) Eric is the slowest flyer designer I’ve ever seen and that printer was bloody cheap, it otherwise wouldn’t have been a problem.
c) Really, Eric doesn’t do any work anyway. He was hired because he has a degree and the other applicant didn’t. Every company has some dead weight. It will be easy to cut him loose.
d) Fuck Susie anyway.

5. When a business partner (and a pretty one, in the video) drops by Nigel’s office to offer him a hard-to-find item as a gift, he has a decision to make. What is the purpose of the gift? The gift is not being offered in the context of a business opportunity, rather it is being presented as a harmless gesture of thanks. Should Nigel accept the gift?
a) Why not? His kid would love it.
b) Nigel doesn’t want to feel obligated by accepting the gift and should consider other ways in which she could thank him. He should ask her to go over and close and lock his office door.
c) Nigel should terminate all dealings between their businesses and have her escorted out. The police will be waiting downstairs.

Submit your answers for reeducation. Correct answers will be given next week.

The Benefits of Taking Grade 11 Algebra Twice

The fundamental differences between men and women have been summarized many different ways, rational/emotional, logical/intuitive, douchebag/biotch, etc.

Sometimes we men have to use that logic to prove we're not total douchebags.

For example, in what will ultimately be a doomed attempt to prove that I am not any more of a douchebag than the next douchebag, here is the mathematical equation for figuring out the number of men that look at other women despite being in a relationship. I have it on good authority that these men are called assholes, we'll use that term for the purpose of this equation.

The function (f) of men who look at other women is equal to the amount of assholes divided by the number of men on the planet:

Assholes

(f)men who look = ---------------------------------------

All men on the planet

Given that all men look at other women since it is hard wired into our genetic code as primal seeders (or other metaphysical reasoning), regardless of relationship status, all men in the world must therefore be assholes:

Assholes

(f)men who look = -----------------------------------------

All men on the planet(Assholes)

If we cancel the like terms:

Assholes

(f)men who look = ------------------------------------------

All men on the planet(Assholes)

We find that:

(f)men who look = All men on the planet

It has now become redundant to call men assholes since they all share that common denominator. The term “asshole”, which is synonymous with “man”, is now a useless word. Further, any woman who catches her man wandering his eyes and calls him an asshole in a genuine tone is not aware of this equation.

You can now use this prove to your girlfriend, on a piece of paper, that she doesn't have a leg to stand on (good luck) when she asks you if you need a neck brace. You're welcome, douchebag.

Where has the time gone?

So many memories...

Had quite a tan in the early 70's. Experimented with the hair a little in '74.

I think my volume peaked in '84.

My olympic hair.

Gained a little weight there in '98.

I love old Top Tens

Marianne: http://www.knbc.com/slideshow/entertainment/14378935/detail.html

Me: Creepy. What got you on that one?

Marianne: Searching google images for something.

Me: Did you find it?

Marianne: I don't remember what I was looking for.

Me: Were you looking for "ghost eating a bologna and cheese sandwich"?

Marianne: Yes!

Me: Ghosts love bologna.

A classic from Letterman in the 80’s.

Top Ten Ways People Pronounce Bologna
10. Balogna (Ba Lo Nah)
9. Baloney (Ba Lo Nee)
8. Balonia (Bas Lo Nya)
7. Balloning (Ba Lun Ing)
6. Fellini (Fe Lee Nee)
5. Abalone (A Buh Lo Nee)
4. Papillon (Pa Pee Yon)
3. Aloney-bae (Uh Lo Nee Bay)
2. Bloney (Blo Nee)
1. Bumoney (Buh Mo Nee)

Marianne: Ha! Also:
Babylon
Alimony
Ball hockey
Gnocchi
Bla bla bla

Me: Ha! Also:
Hanna Barbara
Bubble pony
Hullabulloo
Bun labia
Burnoose
Able bodied
Balloon day

Marianne: Ha! Also:
Alabammy
Gogo ballet
Schmaloney
Brian Mulrooney
Bubble boy

Me: Ha! Also:
Bump phony
Lonely
Banally
Bull on Nair
Billy Flanagan
Fill her hubby
Blow me

Marianne: Also:
****** *****
***** *******
******** ********

Me: Now you’re just being dirty.

Fence Post

(Kate's email) Re: discussion you had with Mom about Lindsey's fabulous blog: edit your blog, by all means, but don't force your tone; it comes through in your writing.

(My email) Don’t force your tone because it already amply comes through in your writing? Or, don’t force your tone because it’s obvious that you’re forcing it in your writing and you don’t want that?

My blog is scarce due to a lack of tone. I generally don’t have a tone about much that’s worth writing about. I need the tone. Lol. Am I showing hints of being contrived as opposed to impassioned?

I’ve also been exploring the blog world. I look at a lot of blogs, some just skimming them. I can’t believe how many blogs there are out there that are purposeless and boring. Like human tofu, blandly blogging about which tea they had that morning, their cats, the trip to the grocery store, the meal they made. Holy crap! This stuff is noteworthy? Now, therein lies the question – noteworthy to whom? If they have a specific reader base that’s eating that shit up then they’ve satisfied their blog’s purpose. Blogs, even more so than other writing, are chiefly driven by who their audience is. The people for whom you write govern the purpose of your blog. If your perception of your audience morphs, so does your blog. Like Brain, who, originally, was giving the family updates as a means to not have to send multiple tailored emails to everyone who asked her how it was going, her blog has morphed into an entity of its own because of its expanded audience. Its original purpose is now a component of its sum purpose.

You have exemplified a different and equally organic approach to blogging by remaining true to your audience throughout. When I started mine I had no idea who I wanted my audience to be. Family only? That’s special but begs unique restrictions on content. Strange readers? A blog without a reader base would serve little purpose. Friends only? Maybe a little attention-desperate. There was this exercise we were taught to do way back in junior high English. Whenever we wrote, creatively or otherwise, we always had to write three lines at the top of our first empty page answering these questions: In this writing, what are my audience, purpose and message? It’s clear so many blogs are written without the answers these questions. The proof: The amount of blogs that are titled “random ramblings” or “just the thoughts and scribblings of a. . .” This approach gives people an excuse to write about nothing and, boy, do some of them write about nothing. This stamp of non-commitment seems to say, “If you don’t find my writing or what I’m writing about interesting, don’t blame me, my disclaimer is at the top of my blog.” (I conveyed this to Lindsey and she changed her title to Kiss My Ass. Ha ha. What a girl!)

I don’t agree with this vagrant modus operandi when it comes to writing. One should have a purpose, take a stand, have an attitude, a tone. Fuck it. Maybe I’ll blog this email, it’s got tone. Effective writers are not just read but are agreed with and disagreed with as well. The only way to get away with writing about next to nothing is if it’s humourous. Don’t tell me about what it’s like to sit on the fence post unless you’re telling me about the splinters in your ass. (Dave Barry’s blog is a great example of topical and humourous. Of course, he’s a Pulitzer Prize winner.) And don’t say shit like, “That’s just my opinion.” How redundant is that statement in a blog? You don't have to defend that your blog is subjective, that's the charm.

If you’re a fan of tea drinkers or cat lovers I guess there are blogs out there for you. But there are some clearly well written ones out there and I want to find more of them.

But that's just my opinion.

Warning, Contains Nudity

I have a problem with faith – well, fanaticism - when it's manifested at the expense of intellect. The two may very well be mutually exclusive.

I think for the most part humans follow a code of live and let live. It’s when this code is violated that folks start to get ornery. Unless you’re trading a cup of cream for a bag of crabapples or forming a block watch community, there’s no real reason to go and fuck with your neighbour, hence, occupation -> convoy bombing. But people get especially riled up when it comes to matters of faith. That includes messing with the way god-fearing people believe the way their future will unfold. Imagine being entitled to such a thing!

Lately, the religious ranks, including the laic, have been coming out of the woodwork with a very concerned collective voice. So what’s gotten them so agitated? Who violated the code first?

The scientific community, of course, who are mere weeks away from switching on their biggest and, some say, most irresponsible toy to date. The Large Hadron Collider is the world’s largest particle accelerator and is built in a 27 km circumference underground at the Franco-Swiss border. It is intended to smash together beams of protons at nearly the speed of light and have a multitude of readings and pictures taken of those collisions. It is expected to recreate on, a sub-microscopic scale, conditions that may have existed only a few nanoseconds after the big bang. A universe baby photo, if you will. Scientists are also hoping to create the first observable circumstance of the Higgs boson particle which is theorized to give otherwise massless elementary particles their mass, given that particles are made up of smaller particles which are made up of smaller particles, etc., which are made up in the end of only energy. It should be noted that the Higgs boson particle is also known as the “God particle”.

And the fear has been rolling in. Cowering troglodytes have been ringing in with their two cents ever since the machine’s completion. Everything from saying "leave well enough alone" to the rehashing of Nostradamus’ doomsday prophecies to detailed video animations depicting exactly how, get this, the earth will get sucked into a black whole created by the LHC. (Apparently fanaticism and computer graphics animation are not mutually exclusive.) I especially enjoy those diatribes that, claiming science is doing nothing but hurtling humanity towards its own destruction, are themselves based on science, albeit erroneous. Some simply ask the scientific community how we are going to be fundamentally better off by knowing just a little bit more about the universe, sounding like a plea to turn off the scary bright light of the future. Others appear to think we’ve tinkered under the hood to create a 6th gear in a car for which there is not enough safe road – and everyone is in the back seat. Perhaps hanging a rosary from the rearview mirror would help. At any rate, every argument seems to come from deeper within the holy cave.

Godspeak from small children is tolerable because they’re cute, and at their age it’s understood they’ve not stood a chance against the imposition of fully subscribed parents. Growth-stunting, back woods, paranoid propaganda is dumbfounding, however, from adults, especially ones who hold teaching and political positions.

So why the armageddon attitude? Is it simply a fear of dying? I can certainly understand that. But then why bathe it in religious rhetoric? Are there Christian soldiers out there who are not ready to be judged by their maker? Or is there something they don’t want the world to learn, like Creation may be nothing more than a cool story with nudity, for instance? One thing seems to be certain, every religious doomsday alarmist is grossly under-informed about the function and capabilities of the LHC, to say nothing of the nonsensical theories they purport. So I ask, why must fanaticism come at the expense of intellect?

Olympic Highlights

Watching olympics is more fun when drinking with family than when not.

Regarding the American gymnastics team:
"All big legs and no tits."
"Oh wait, that one has tits."
"They're sewn in as part of her uniform."

Regarding the diminutive Chinese gymnast:
"She looks like she's 4 years old."
"No. She's just small, she's actually 30."
The next Chinese gymnast appears and on the heals of joking about the Michelle/Jodi/Marv's Karen tradition of having kids as a pre-teen (during which Marv called them "sluts"),
"Here's her granddaughter."

In the swimming event a graphic appears over each swimmer's lane with their flag and name. The graphic disappears as the swimmers launch in to the pool.
"How do they pull back that tarp so quick?"

Then an ad ran for a show called "Stump the Schwab" featuring regular think-they-know-it-all sports buffs who go against a guy with an eerily encyclopedic knowledge of all things sports.
Uncle Mark: "I think I'd rather schwab the stump!"

I now pronounce you man and wife

Every now and then some lazy genius gets sick of doing two separate things at two separate times and marries two pieces of technology. We all remember the guy who got sick of having to lift his arm to check his watch while writing and so stuck a clock in his pen. Or the guy who got sick of having to put down his beer to high five his buddies and so taped them to his head with straws. The other night I downloaded the last season of Sex And The City, converted it to 3g2 portable video format, dragged all the episodes onto my SDmicro card (which acts like a flash drive when connected to the computer) and put the card in my phone. Now Lindsey can watch the last season of SATC at work on my mini TV so she can get caught up and we can finally watch the movie.

Soup-de-mois

In July I may have set an unprovable and unmatchable record of eating hot & sour soup for lunch for 16 business days in a row. I wonder if the Chinese even do that.

Evolutionary leftovers

Vestigial organs are leftovers from a previous era and represent functions that were once necessary for survival. Over time, those functions become nonexistent and the organs atrophy. Sometimes, to prevent complications, these anatomical relics must be removed. Which is why, at some point, every city should go under the knife and have its crosswalk buttons and elevator ashtrays cut out.

Tela Rutilus

Well it’s been said by many people that Saskatoon, with a population of 2.06 X 10⁵, is the biggest small town in the world. The citizens here form a familiar, tightly woven, plasmatic network. Where have we seen it before? That’s right, say it with me – in the sun’s core. The attraction to this place causes these friendly hydrogen and helium folks to group, split apart, interact and shine, which actually is the attraction.

When Brain arrived in town for her week here she hadn’t even left the airport before Joe happened to pull the bus over and say hello. After splitting off that night, many atoms grouped together to shine the following night at the celebration. Last week my temporary officemate turned around and, after having contemplated my last name, told me he was married to Mary Jane’s sister and already knew that Michael was coming to town. Different atoms will group together and shine for the mini-reunion next week.

My Dumplings

A cookie keeps track of my recent Google searches. Here are some of them. Some names have been removed to protect the Google-stalked.

Acronymize
airport codes
c7 rifle
call it ritual wolf
drank a carboy
change convert gif to jpg
China beichuan
china earthquake
coma
countermeasured
cr6 1a4,exe
cubicle happy office network
dark populace
deep fryer
eephus pitch
eielson afb
esse est percipi
excel bold formula
facebook proxy
feel like stretching all the time
flash cheat engine
front series
funny motivational posters
gaim
grover's mill NJ
heart's content
Hoegaarden brewery
homer crazy floor spin
hoplite
html code strikethrough
indextrous
jabber
kajiji
keith haring
Kristen Hager
latin phrases
lyrics if you be happy for the rest of your life never make a pretty woman
slippers and a bath robe
mafiacoders
mami
marvin o’gravel balloon face
men with brooms
mlb 2K8 batting
moon river saskatchewan
mosquitoes Iisterine
online arcade
productivity
proletariat
proof positive
radiusim
remap keyboard
run from zombies
russian english spelling
safeway isle map
show desktop button
sophistry
spanish english dictionary
Tangjiashan china
The Coathangers Parking Lot
twitch city
Ursula Lidstrom
vancouver canucks death
vicious circle band
vtunnel
wage
war of the worlds
wax
web 2,0
whining
xeno tactic hints
youtube deep fry coke

Funny how “productivity” is right after “online arcade”.

And count slowly

People enjoy griping about the way people drive in their city, and here I go. Saskatoon has its share of problems but unlike any city I’ve seen before. Unlike Calgary, my chief annoyance with Saskatoon drivers is that they drive too slowly. The unposted and average speed limit of Saskatoon is 40 km/h. I don’t advocate speeding, but there should be a collective effort to get from A to B. Driving should be like dropping onto a stream, flowing towards your destination and dropping out at the right eddy. In Saskatoon it’s like trudging through waist deep water. I’ve never seen a more complacent populace of motorists. There is a customary delay of 1 Mississippi... 2 Mississippi... 3 Mississippi... 4 Mississippi... 5 Mississippi... before releasing the brake when the light turns green. And proof positive of this custom is that people consistently drive through aging yellow lights with the surety of a cannon-baller who knows there’s water in the pool. Then there’s the four-way face ballet. That’s when four drivers are at a four-way stop and are all looking at each other trying to decide, with a series of subtle eyebrow raises, which one of them should proceed next.

Travelling through this culture of the driving dead is not without its advantages. Like the last remaining able-bodied punk in a town overrun by zombies, I move briskly through the motorcoma. It’s not uncommon to see five cars lined up in one lane and the lane next to it empty at a red light. The driver of the fifth car must know that they’ll be waiting 25 mississippi’s before carefully inching forward. Of course, they’re not worried, they’ll just roll through when it’s yellow. And I’ve mastered the eyebrow twitch that entitles me first passage at the four-way stop.

I think I enjoy driving in Europe the most. There seems to be an understanding there. There’s a flow. You must take your opportunities when they come or they’ll be taken from you. And, as mother fearlessly demonstrated, following the rules over there is purely optional and you can drive wherever you want. One way street? I don’t think so. Tram tracks? No problem! Pulling into traffic and hitting the brakes? Mastered. License? Pff. And with a forward-shooting water canon on the front of her car she never had to master the eyebrow twitch.

Release the hounds!

Since the first time the corporate computer network was connected to the information superhighway, curious and internet savvy employees have been surreptitiously reaching out beyond the company firewall to interact with the world. Early on in this era, their browsing was quite innocent, exploring what the cyber world had to offer, perhaps since there was no internet at home. This of course ate up company time causing a cascade of reduced productivity and eventually a drop in net capital gain. Since no company wants to pay an employee for two weeks for what could be done in one week, managers had IT implement countermeasures such as restricting internet access to its employees to certain times and certain work-based sites. This meant those employees had to find other methods of getting what they needed from the net, which meant IT had to find other ways of implementing restrictions, ad vitam aut culpum.

Much like the race between virus programmers and antivirus programmers who exchange leading each other by a nose, there is a race at the office between Instant Messenger users and Information Technology departments. It is a race between good and evil. On one side you have people for honest and unrestricted communication at the office (PHUC OFF) who enjoy chatting with loved ones and long distance family members while their workload permits. On the other side you have Big Brother whose primary task is to remove all elements of potential distraction so as to allow the employee’s focus to be but on his task. These elements include but are not limited to sunlight, oxygen, peripheral vision, hair space, humour, opinion, blinking slowly, foot tapping, coffee refilling, window out-looking, face scratching and confirming dinner plans. A babysat worker is a productive worker! People are now free to delete the ubiquitous resume line “Able to work proficiently without supervision”, be it spurious or not. It's no longer applicable.

Over my years, many a trusty chat client has fallen at the end of a hoplITe spear. MSN, Trillian, Skype, Gaim, Meebo and Jabber to name a few. They each seem to last a few months before they are spotted by sentries and the hounds are loosed. I am currently winning this race thanks to a neat, little web-based messaging service called RadiusIM. So with my alert sounds turned down to a two foot audible radius I can chat away again to my heart’s content work permitting. At least for now the sun is shining and I'm tapping my feet. We’ll see how long this one lasts before Big Brother slaps my hand and takes the toy from this baby again.