Just what everyone needs - a gantt chart for doomed relationships. http://www.buzzfeed.com/gustavoa/doomed-relationship-chart-4bf/
J. and I write a lot of email back and forth. I tend to sign my emails with love.
My office also uses a lot of email.
I find that at least once a day I have to go back and delete the "Love" that my fingers have typed at the end of a work email.
I think this is not unusual. But I had to mention it.
That is all.
I need to talk to the music director.
The radio station in my head has a very short playlist this morning. It has been alternating, and sometimes cross-cutting, between Great Big Sea's "The Day Pat Murphy Died" and John Denver's "Annie's Song."
That's what they did, at Patty Murphy's Funeral That's how they showed their honor and their pride You fill up my senses Like a rocky blue mountain
It makes for a very odd melange.
I was dropping off elder son at day care this morning, and for the first time in a while I envied a toddler's clothing.
One of his classmates was wearing a tourist shirt from the Baltimore waterfront. On the back it had an array of pirate flags, each labeled by the pirate who had supposedly used that flag.
I like flags, and so I thought it was a mighty cool shirt.
I wonder if it would look as good on me as it did on the pre-schooler?
It would probably be a little tight.
She handed me a blank sheet of paper.
"What's this?" I asked
"A topographical map of New Jersey"
"Oh, of course."
And I began to pick out landmarks.
(Fiction: the conversation never happened; I thought the joke was funnier written this way.)
Younger son taught me something very important the other day.
"Eat it or wear it" is a false choice.
That is all.
There are worse things to get an earbug of, but this is pretty darn bad. I can't even sing it to get rid of it because the kids are little magpies and would repeat it all over daycare.
I was asked who I was rooting for in the Superbowl.
My gut answer was that I was rooting for the chile, but that I expected the desserts to win.
To the tune of Whiskey in the Jar
As my dreams were roaming over
The mountains of the morning
I heard something wake me and
It was a toddler crying
So I outs of my warm bed
For to see what's the matter
And I said lets get going
For you are an early riser
And it wack for the daddy oh (3x)
There's Coffee in the Pot
I am working with the Post Office and the Sabbatarian controversy of 1810-1817, and one of the major players is Postmaster General Return J. Meigs.
My random thought for the moment is that while there are a fair number of goofy baby names being used these days, and while some of the new goofy baby names are attempts to conjure up the pre-industrial past, we are unlikely to see many new babies named Return any time soon. I blame the commercial culture of America.
Babies LIKE it when you poke them in the stomach and say "tum, tum, tum, tum, tum!"
The same is not true for the lady wife, nor, I suspect, for most women.
Scott Kurtz of PVPonline has a comic today that is so true it is funny.
I have actually done that to students' phonemail machines.
Sometimes iTunes makes a remarkable transition. It did one just now: Spinal Tap "Stonehenge" into Emerson Lake and Palmer "Fanfare for the Common Man."
What do I mean?
"Imagine what they would say if we, were here, tonight!"
This amused me. It is a Jenny Breeden comic about the joys of airline screening for folks who wear a lot of goth and clubwear.
We like Jennie Breeden.
Note to self. Do NOT let J see this product.
Also, don't write about it anyplace she might stumble across it.
Unless, perhaps, I got to use it too.
Nah, too risky.
Via one of Sheila O'Malley's commenters
Another worthless THS note: did you know you can set your Google Language preferences to Bork, Bork, Bork? Go to the Google Search Page, hit Preferences, then choose Bork, Bork, Bork! from the drop down in the Interface Language section. Save the whole thing, and off you go. Hilarious.She is right. It does indeed work. I prefer it to the Klingon, Elmer Fud, Pig Latin, and to the many languages which I do not speak - although I left my Google in Scots Gaelic for a few minutes just for giggles.
Google's front page via the Swedish Chef in the extended entry.
Veb Imeges Gruoops Durectury
• Edfunced Seerch
• Lungooege-a Tuuls
Ell Ebuoot Google-a - Google.com in English
©2004 Google - Seercheeng 4,285,199,774 veb peges
A friend sent us a crate of new jarred food for the infant. We think he will like this one. . . .
I laughed out loud when I saw this.
Dork Tower explores the (scary) notion that fans, gamers, and wargamers are now having children.
The next day's followup is also good.
I am not sure if I needed to see it however.
Have you ever gotten a rude novelty song stuck in your head?
The only thing to do is to show it to someone else, and thus pass the curse along.
You have been warned: The Dildo Song
(not work safe, nothing explicit, no potty language, multiple dildos, funny)
Good, now maybe I can think about something less obnoxious.
Here is one I won't be asking, at least not in this format:
Who would win a steel cage death match between the Enlightenment and Nationalism for the title of "Most influential modern intellectual movement"?Your answer should be in the form of ringside commentary.
... And the Enlightenment reaches back and, YES, hits Nationalism with empirical evidence, now that's a heavy blow. Nationalism staggers, it backs up, and WHAM, here comes Nationalism with emotional attachment to the state, OUCH, and it was followed up with, yes, a string of folk tales. One after another. Those brothers sure are looking Grimm. The Enlightenment is looking confused, YES, it is searching for rational explanations behind each narrative, there it goes, off into the corner chasing the folk tales. And look at this, here comes Nationalism, it has snuck up behind the Enlightenment while it chased down evidence, and OOF, it has jumped on the Enlightenment's back and is piggy-backing on centralized government and rational bureaucracy. Oh, it hurts to have your best weapon used against you like that. But wait, the Enlightenment turns, and, YES, it undercuts Nationalism by applying universal criteria to the state, and now Both are down. Its a bloodbath in there let me tell you ...
Luckily, it is a steel cage match, so Pietism can not show up with a metal folding chair.
Why yes, I am a history geek. Why do you ask?
John and Belle are funny this week. Here is another link:
Phear the "Nefarious" Nietzsche with his "eternally recurring punching action"!
Can he defeat the Scottish Karate and local Skepticism of David "Hurt 'em" Hume?
I actually shared this with my students over on my teaching blog; it is quite well done and rather amusing.
As I was reading my email this morning I found a fine piece of spam that offered to increase my penis length by three inches.
I mentioned this to J. Her response?
Seriously, penis enlargement spam is an extension to men of the same sorts of body-anxiety advertising that women have had to deal with since the 1920s if not before. While it would be nice if body issues for women moved closer to what they have historically been for men, not a big deal other than the occasional cry of "chicken legs," it appears that instead men are picking up some of women's anxieties and concerns. And that is a
bad sad thing.
I like to sing little snatches of song to myself, a trait that has gotten worse now that I have small children to sing them to.
I also like to come up with doggerel - sometime when I get it more polished I will post the cook's version of "Mockingbird."
But for now I just want to share the snatch of song that came to me as I was driving the toddler, listening to The Two Towers on audiobook, and admiring the day.
The stars at night
Have a fell light
[clap clap clap clap]
Deep in the heart, of Mordor
The orcs have teeth
that snatch and bite
[clap clap clap clap]
Deep in the heart, of Mordor
J wants to name our daughter Cthullu.
Actually, she started getting cold feet right after she suggested the name, but the name is still going down on the long list in case we decide to go for number three.
Why Cthullu? Well, I guess I teased her into it. We were talking about the abstract possibility of going for three (with number two 10 days old, that is all it was - an abstract possibility) and I pointed out that we have used family names and we have used Biblical names but we do not yet have a child with a literary name. Galadriel would be a good name for a daughter.
She would rather have a Cthullu.
After I started thinking about it, I liked it. We could take the horrible pink sweater someone gave us (modelled by the bear in the extended entry) and embroider Cthullu on one lapel in a slightly darker shade of pink. She would always stand out in a crowd. She would have an instant cultural literacy test to use on her teachers and her friends. What's not to like about having a beautiful baby Cthullu in the house?
Then J got cold feet.
She is afraid that none of our friends would want to spend time around a baby named Cthullu. Some of them would squick at the thought of calling Cthullu to dinner on a regular basis, others don't like to speak the names of demons in any context. After further review, she will save the first name Cthullu for a pet, probably a drooling bulldog.
But that is OK, because I want to have a bulldog someday.
Here is the toddler's bear modelling the pink sweater for Cthullu.
"I put your picture on the internet."
"On my web page. I put your picture up so everyone could see it."
"Don't worry, your face is hidden. No one can recognize you from the picture."
"See, here on the front page of the blog."
"Is that us? Which one is me? What is that picture?"
"It is from when we were dating, it must be 8 years ago now. We were down at the shore, sitting on the dock at high tide. You are on the left, with your feet in the water."
"Oh. I see. Well, you can keep it on your page."
"Thanks dear, I thought you would say that."
Then she hit me.
Caution, extensive potty language
Link may not work in I.E., if so then cut and paste.
I giggled at several of these, especially
40: I do not have super-powers.
101: I am not allowed to mount a bayonet on a crew-served weapon.
I don't know if I should sympathize with her day, or giggle at her description.
Both would work.
Tip of the hat to Rocket Jones for:
I think I need to reconcile my public and private blogrolls, Rocket Jones is getting promoted. The man is funny, and insightful.
And sometimes you just need a short post to a silly, just like LeeAnn does all the time.
I still have not gotten around to seeing any of the Matrix movies. I have seen enough Matrix parodies to know the plot, and now I can see the special effects as well. This is most amusing.
And I should be asleep