One Girl, Six Ways

Vice is running their fashion issue and this article is the rock and the roll. A change of clothes, make-up, and posture and it's six different girls. Don't forget to be reading Do's and Don'ts once in a while (and to not be being a Don't all the time).

Specialization is for insects

What skills and/or knowledge should every person have, regardless of gender or nationality?

My suggestions:
-the ability to spell and use proper grammar
-knowledge of appropriate diet and nutrition
-the ability to apologize meaningfully
-how to be a gracious winner
-how to be a gracious loser

Idul Fitri

I'm going to link to this Indonesian Levi's ad instead of posting the photo because it deserves to be embiggified. Idul Fitri, or Eid ul-Fitr, is an Islamic holy day that marks the end of Ramadan. According to the intelligent herd:
For Muslims, Eid ul-Fitr is a joyous occasion with important religious significance, celebrating of the achievement of enhanced piety. It is a day of forgiveness, moral victory, peace of congregation, fellowship, brotherhood and unity. Muslims celebrate not only the end of fasting, but also thank God for the help and strength that they believe he gave them throughout the previous month to help them practice self-control. It is a time of giving and sharing, and many Muslims dress in holiday attire, and compare the spirit of the holiday to the "Christmas spirit" recognized by Christianity.

The text on the bottom of the right reads, "Together we welcome the day of victory. Happy Idul Fitri 1427H." Do you see why it's a cool ad yet? There's a hint in the comments if you don't -

Winter emergenceeee




I don't remember whether I've mentioned this before or not, but one of the reasons M.Bro and I live where we do is because we get a substantial chunk taken off our rent for agreeing to scoop some sidewalks in the winter and water some lawns in the summer. Usually that means a couple hours of work a week two seasons of the year. We're earning our rent today, by golly.

You can't tell from the pictures, but that's at least four feet of snow we're playing in. Madison got about two feet, but the sidewalk runs through a miniature valley and all the snow drifts directly on top of it. And this is no fluffy, cottonball snow either - it's wet and heaaaavvy. In fact, I can't lift an entire shovelful of it, so scooping means taking hundreds and hundreds of little bites.


Spring, unsprung


After a glorious four days of hoodies layered with vests and no stocking caps anywhere to be seen, tonight we're in a winter emergency. The snow & wind are bad, yeah, but the worst part is the disappointment. The crushing, crushing disappointment.

Plus I was looking forward to hanging out with folks at H.Go's birthday party, since I've kind of sequestered myself for a few weeks. The radio (and who am I to question the radio's authority) said to be where you wanted to be by 6:00 pm and not plan on leaving until tomorrow (and bring a shovel). The snow's coming down in sheets and I can feel the wind shaking our building & rattling our windows. It's not as painfully cold as it was a couple weeks ago, but it's certainly wrathful (and, one has to assume, vengeful).

MONOMOCONOMOWOMOWOC!

This story makes me all kinds of sad. "Forsooth, a damsel in distress! I shall log off World of Warcraft and come to her aid, posthaste! (maybe the pretty girl will talk to me)"
OCONOMOWOC - An Oconomowoc man heard a neighbor watching an adult film, but mistakenly thought a woman was being raped.

Bret Stieghorst was watching an adult movie with the volume up loud. His downstairs neighbor, James Van Iveren, heard a woman screaming in the movie, but thought a woman was actually being attacked. Instead of calling police, he took matters into his own hands, ran up the stairs and broke down the door, all while brandishing a three-foot long military-style sword.

"He comes in with this three-foot long sword and starts pointing it at me, and going, 'Where is she?'" Stieghorst said.

Van Iveren continued to point the sword at Stieghorst while he searched the apartment to make sure no woman was being held against her will. When Van Iveren did not find anyone else in the apartment, he left.

It's the call of Cthulu - he's holding on line two


The ocean is a scary, scary place and frankly, we should just leave monsters alone to do whatever they do under there. It was better when they didn't know we existed and our two civilizations lived in ignorant peace. Now I suppose Bush is going to want to declare some War on Tentacles (Or, GSOUND - Global Struggle Over Underwater Necrotizing Death-machines) and there'll be a draft and Republicans will win California by preying on their fears of an underwater grave. Hold out, west coasters!

Magic is in the air

And not just the magical magic of serious dissertation progress! No, also the magic of my third-favorite day of the year yesterday (the day I first notice the sun setting later - it's a completely subjective award) (bonus points to anyone that can remember the two also-subjective days that are even more favoriter)! And even alsoer, new Ted Leo mp3! The new album, Living with the Living, comes out one month from today, and I'm very excited. I was sort of meh about the new Shins, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, and Bloc Party CDs, so I'm counting Ted Leo and his merry band of Pharmacists can redeem 2007, musically speaking.
And when the crying starts
You won't have to see their bloodshot eyes turn red
And when the dying starts
You won't have to know a thing about who's dead
This is your nation
Pretend it's television
Where the good guys always win.

Wow, WoW!


Apologies for the inactivity, but it was worth it - my guild was the first on my server to raid Naith'raxx, and we did it without a Turk and with only 13 MegSecs in our Mana-pool. Excelsior!



Or I've been getting a article ready for submission to journals. They're both so antisocial and computer-intensive that it's hard to tell. But in slightly less nerdy news, I seem to have wrenched my left oblique playing floor hockey tonight. We got mercy-ruled 9-0 at the end of the second period, though, so it was worth sacrificing my body for the team. I was supposed to finish my 15-mile run at the gym after the game, but a 6-mile run turned into a 2-mile walk when I realized I couldn't swing my arms or twist my torso.

A New, Plastic Hope

Dude, it's cool that you have all the cantina toys, but was it a good idea to devote 1/7 of your 3:00 Star Wars action figure recreation to one scene in which very little happens?

Go get hitched just for the pictures

Burrito and the new Mrs. Eater had the best wedding photographer. Hands down champ.

I'm thinking about growing a beard to hide my double-chin, but I'm afraid it'll look like I'm doing exactly what I am.

The SomethingAwful guide to grad school admissions

Oh, internet humourists (note the pretentious spelling, natch), what won't you mock?
If you decide to take the GRE, the first thing to do is to pretend you are a fine, upstanding gentleman from 1837 with spats and a mercury-cured hat. Congratulations! You are now perfectly suited to pass the verbal portions of the GRE. The GRE tests you on words, that, if uttered aloud, would cause the word "faggot" to escape from the lips of those around you. Sure, you may be able to get away with it a few times, but the excuse of, "I learned it by watching Scrubs!" only works until others realize your hatred for Zach Braff and cloying montages.

So if you don't have a time machine, there are many books that can help you study for the GRE; and even if you did have a time machine, you would probably go mad trying to figure out the right butterfly to kill which will make your current life full of gold bricks and baubles. But if you don't want to spend the money on a time machine or study guide (both comparatively priced), you can always analyze your current writing and speech and ask yourself, "How would a 19th century plutocrat say this?" If you find yourself inserting the exclamation "Balderdash!" at the end of every sentence, you're on the right track. It also helps to waddle around your house in a cummerbund, grumbling about tariffs and the state of opera. Just remember that no matter what you do, you will be unprepared.

Ow ow ow.

What do you call the muscles/tendons that go from the top of your foot, over the top of your ankle, and up the front of your shin? I can barely move mine, whatever they're called. Stupid floor hockey game on Sunday night and stupid delayed-onset muscle soreness. M.Bro reminded me that I couldn't walk for two days after my first game last season too. Apparently sprinting and pivoting is only superficially like distance running. My legs have voted, and they're very, very different sports.

I'm supposed to run 5 miles tonight, but instead, I'm going to sit on the floor and silently scream while I try to stretch my whatevers. Ow ow ow.

Is "Please Don't Feed the Models" too cliched for a title?


Stupid British restaurant, giving free food to size-zero models. They're so hot just the way they are, you jerks!

Levi's ad

Short post w/ new Levi's ad. That's it. Just watch it & comment.

But this here's Amurrrrrkaa!

From 2001, a Human Rights Watch report on prisoner-on-prisoner sexual abuse and rape in the US prison system. It's shameful and should be embarrassing, but if I had to guess, the response of most Americans would be a shrug and maybe a platitude, "Don't do the crime if you can't do the time".
I've been sentenced for a D.U.I. offense. My 3rd one. When I first came to prison, I had no idea what to expect. Certainly none of this. I'm a tall white male, who unfortunately has a small amount of feminine characteristics. And very shy. These characteristics have got me raped so many times I have no more feelings physically. I have been raped by up to 5 black men and two white men at a time. I've had knifes at my head and throat. I had fought and been beat so hard that I didn't ever think I'd see straight again. One time when I refused to enter a cell, I was brutally attacked by staff and taken to segregation though I had only wanted to prevent the same and worse by not locking up with my cell mate. There is no supervision after lockdown. I was given a conduct report. I explained to the hearing officer what the issue was. He told me that off the record, He suggests I find a man I would/could willingly have sex with to prevent these things from happening. I've requested protective custody only to be denied. It is not available here. He also said there was no where to run to, and it would be best for me to accept things . . . . I probably have AIDS now. I have great difficulty raising food to my mouth from shaking after nightmares or thinking to hard on all this . . . . I've laid down without physical fight to be sodomized. To prevent so much damage in struggles, ripping and tearing. Though in not fighting, it caused my heart and spirit to be raped as well. Something I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself for.

Mondays are for etymology


Here's an interesting thing I learned today: you know how you're told to murmur "rhubarb? rhubarb, rhubarb!" to imitate the sounds of a fake conversation? Apparently, the word rhubarb comes from "Rho Barbaron", which in Greek means "the barbarian river". And barbarians were so called because the Greeks though that a lot of barbarians talking sounded like "bar bar bar".

Sugar Glider-ey like Sunday mooorrrrrrnnin


Who could dislike these precocious little rodents? Not me or you, that is who.

First wave of the Robot Wars?

Picture this, if you will - I'm treadmilling merrily last night, just one of three or four dozen happy little hamsters in my row at the Princeton Club. I'm at mile 4 of an 8-mile pyramid run - mile 1 in 9:00, mile 2 in 8:00, mile 3 in 7:00, mile 4 in 6:00, and then back down the ladder. Halfway through mile 3 THHHHWAK - I'm tangled in the front of the treadmill and the TV stand is wobbling from the impact. WTF, I ask in internet lingo (lol brb, ttyl!!!!1!). Oh, TTH ("That The Fuck" I assume) - the treadmill lost power, the belt stopped under my feet, and I jogged myself right into the safety bar! Fortunately, other than a 200bpm heartrate, I was fine. Neither of the people next to me even looked up from Law & Order, so even my ego got out unscathed.

So I have a question for you - would you kick a pony in the face to end world hunger? To feed one homeless person for a week?

It is weird that I'm a little sad?

Anna Nicole Smith died in her hotel room this afternoon. I'm sure details will be on TMZ before they're anywhere else.

Edit: In my hurry to get this post up, I made a li'l typo in the headline. I think I'll leave it.

Let's hope they're deterred by high gas prices

I realized something while I was walking to the bus tonight, and I think I should warn you - this cold wave would be the perfect time for a robot attack. Not only would our layers of thermal underwear make our defenses sluggish and ineffective, but all the giant coats make perfect disguises for their silvery, metallic exoskeletons. Everyone walks & turns their heads from the waist like robots anyway. I'm just sayin', don't be surprised tomorrow if you look into the depths of a furry-collared parka and see glowing red eyes.

From the edge, I presume


Back in ye oldene dayf, e-mail was sent on postcards transported by ponies riding expresses. This is what the building next to mine looked like a million years ago, when you could hop across the Atlantic Creek from Brazil to Angola.

(this post was stolen from Mr Vertigo's blog)

Wondermark

You people are sheep but not me.

Forbes: The World's Most Expensive Denim

This is stupid and not at all why I'm into denim - jewel-encrusted rivets and gold-foil stitching are so far removed from the vintage workwear aspect that I'm drawn to that it's barely the same category of clothing. The PRPS jeans in photo #3 are nice though, albeit redonkulously overpriced compared to Samurais, 45RPMs or Sugar Canes.

Floor hockey on ice

Jesus Hitler Christ, it's frigid. Frigid enough to cancel all the Madison schools - not for snow, but solely for the temperature. Frankly, it's kind of a relief to know that I'll never be as cold ever in the rest of my life as I was walking from the #15 bus stop to the Natatorium for floor-hockey sign-up. Six blocks of 40-below-zero windchill that, despite four layers of warm clothes, chills you right down to your soul. It was almost far, far worse - it turns out the Nat doesn't officially open until 6:30, but a nice janitor let some other guys in a half-hour early, who in turn let me in. A band of floor hockey brothers.

Now back to wait in line until sign-up starts at 8:00. I smell victory for Fili-BUST-YOU-UP this season.

Like a virus



M.Bro's so awesome. Check out what she bought yesterday - for herself, thank you very much It's a denim & leather card carrier!

Shawl sweater = shawlie?


I need one of these shawlies, but they're either made by Dior Homme (and $600) or sold by street vendors in Korea (like $5, but pretty much inaccessible for me).

So what I really need is someone that knows how to sew, and sew creatively.

...which is so bittersweet for a Jewish girl

Melanie's hilarious. Both last night -

Watching American Idol: "Jason, not a single singer you like would make it to Hollywood."

Talking to her older sister on the phone: "Ashley! I already told you what emo is!"

Thanks for the hat, Spiderman, how bout pulling out these...oh. So, no, then?

Everything's too habitated and upkept here

Salton Sea Roadtrip photo-diary, presented without comment.
For those unfamiliar with the Salton Sea, it's the largest body of water in California, at 40 miles long by 25 miles wide. It's an accident of nature, as a salt basin in the middle of the desert was flooded in 1905 by a storm overflow of the Colorado river, and the water instantly created a rival to Lake Tahoe, where Angelenos & San Diegans could go for sportsfishing & recreational waterboating, etc.

The place thrived, and by the 1950s was a booming resort with several surrounding cities. Unfortunately, the unnatural existence of the lake, with no real inflow & no real drainage eventually led to trouble - what water that does flow in from farm irrigation, etc, arrives with a reasonable measure of salinity & a reasonable measure of toxicity (pesticides, etc). What water that exits does so via evaporation, which takes the water, but none of the salt or poison. So every year, the water that remains gets saltier, and more toxic.

In the mid 1970s, things went south, and by the 1990s the whole area was largely abandoned. A series of fishkills had lined the beaches with tens of thousands of dead fish, even as the government restocked with hardier species like tilapia. Eventually the entire area became predominantly known for being a haven for societal outcasts, methamphetamine makers & users, and the very poor.

It's a place like nowhere I've ever been, nor will likely ever return, but I'm glad I went.