This is fortunate for me, since I don't have any.
12%
tagged: Friday, test, money, addiction, addict
Friday, February 22, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Is that a rocket in your pocket?
I thought this video would be more exciting...
.
It's a bit underwhelming, but at least there's this pic of local boy Andrew Jackson pulling the trigger...
And this wicked-cool image of the "bullet"...
In case you're wondering, the "bullet" was a Raytheon RIM-161 Standard SM-3. I think the specs on that page include do-it-yourself instructions on how to build one of these bad boys in you basement.
tagged: missile, spy satellite, war head, Andrew Jackson, video
.
It's a bit underwhelming, but at least there's this pic of local boy Andrew Jackson pulling the trigger...
And this wicked-cool image of the "bullet"...
In case you're wondering, the "bullet" was a Raytheon RIM-161 Standard SM-3. I think the specs on that page include do-it-yourself instructions on how to build one of these bad boys in you basement.tagged: missile, spy satellite, war head, Andrew Jackson, video
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Dark side of the moon
So I'm taking the trash out to the curb at about 9:15 and I look up at what should have been a full moon. Instead I see that a cosmic demon is eating the moon god, a sure portent of evil days ahead.
Anyway, since I was bundled up against the 20-degree temperature, I got out the digital camera and tripod and snapped a few shots of this sure sign of the impending apocalypse.
tagged: moon, lunar eclipse, night, omen, picture
Anyway, since I was bundled up against the 20-degree temperature, I got out the digital camera and tripod and snapped a few shots of this sure sign of the impending apocalypse.
tagged: moon, lunar eclipse, night, omen, picture
Anatomy of willful ignorance
There's a whole helluva lot of righteous outrage out in the KC blogosphere lately. And there's plenty reason for some good ol' fashioned righteous indignation.
Let's see... the economy is going down like a desperate Westport skank. Drugs and murder are rampant on the city's east side. Oil is now over $100 a barrel which means gasoline prices are sure to follow. Sick cattle are being tortured and fed to our children in schools. And to top it all off we seem to be in the midst of a new Ice Age as global warming threatens to destroy the planet!
Yes, plenty to be righteously indignant about. But the cause du jour for some in the local blogosphere is the Bodies Revealed exhibit coming to Union Station.
Bea, Logtar, Jaybird, Tony and Alonzo have condemned the exhibit, some even calling for a "boycott" of the exhibit on moral grounds.
The objections seem to boil down to (paraphrasing): It's a moral outrage to publicly display the dead bodies of human beings.
Here's a sampling of quotes that I think are representative of these bloggers' views:
"Keep it in the learning environment?" Shouldn't the entire world be a learning environment? I mean, I realize that as a general rule the people of KCMO don't really value learning and education, but are they trying to take us all back to the Dark Ages?
"Displaying bodies like art is obscene?" I'm glad Leonardo Da Vinci didn't think that way. The anatomy of the human body has been the subject of both art and science since the middle ages and is largely responsible for helping to kick-start the Renaissance.
The best argument against this is the potential that original occupants of the bodies on display might not have given full consent.
But for me, that's not enough to outweigh the potential educational experience. Why would I want to remain willfully ignorant when given this opportunity?
The exhibit opens in Union Station on February 29 and will run through Sept 1. I definitely plan on attending and I encourage you take this opportunity to expand your knowledge.
tagged: human body, Bodies Revealed, anatomy, Kansas City, Union Station, science, education, biology
Let's see... the economy is going down like a desperate Westport skank. Drugs and murder are rampant on the city's east side. Oil is now over $100 a barrel which means gasoline prices are sure to follow. Sick cattle are being tortured and fed to our children in schools. And to top it all off we seem to be in the midst of a new Ice Age as global warming threatens to destroy the planet!
Yes, plenty to be righteously indignant about. But the cause du jour for some in the local blogosphere is the Bodies Revealed exhibit coming to Union Station.
Bea, Logtar, Jaybird, Tony and Alonzo have condemned the exhibit, some even calling for a "boycott" of the exhibit on moral grounds.The objections seem to boil down to (paraphrasing): It's a moral outrage to publicly display the dead bodies of human beings.
Here's a sampling of quotes that I think are representative of these bloggers' views:
"Keep it in a learning environment, not in the public." -- Jay Bird's Kansas City
"I do not believe that science needs to be displayed in a freak show manner" -- Logtar
"...displaying bodies like art was somewhat obscene for me" -- Logtar
"I do not see any scientific or artistic merit on this morbid display." -- Logtar
"The exhibit is just uncanny & sinful" -- Alonzo WashingtonIt's a shame to see such closed minds from bloggers that I actually really respect (well, except for Tony).
"Keep it in the learning environment?" Shouldn't the entire world be a learning environment? I mean, I realize that as a general rule the people of KCMO don't really value learning and education, but are they trying to take us all back to the Dark Ages?
"Displaying bodies like art is obscene?" I'm glad Leonardo Da Vinci didn't think that way. The anatomy of the human body has been the subject of both art and science since the middle ages and is largely responsible for helping to kick-start the Renaissance.The best argument against this is the potential that original occupants of the bodies on display might not have given full consent.
But for me, that's not enough to outweigh the potential educational experience. Why would I want to remain willfully ignorant when given this opportunity?
The exhibit opens in Union Station on February 29 and will run through Sept 1. I definitely plan on attending and I encourage you take this opportunity to expand your knowledge.
tagged: human body, Bodies Revealed, anatomy, Kansas City, Union Station, science, education, biology
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
YouTube Tuesday: The Saga of Michael Beasley and the iPod
You college basketball fans are probably already well aware of K-State's Michael Beasley, the superfrosh who scored 40 points last weekend vs. Missouri (sorry, Randall) -- his second such performance this year.
His exploits on the court are well documented. But just as entertaining as a 40-point, 20-rebound game are the prepress conferences, where Mr. Beasley seems to have developed a curious fixation with a reporter's iPods.
Hat Tip to TB at Bring On The Cats
tagged: movie, YouTube, video, sports, basketball, Michael Beasley, iPod, K-State
His exploits on the court are well documented. But just as entertaining as a 40-point, 20-rebound game are the prepress conferences, where Mr. Beasley seems to have developed a curious fixation with a reporter's iPods.
Hat Tip to TB at Bring On The Cats
tagged: movie, YouTube, video, sports, basketball, Michael Beasley, iPod, K-State
Monday, February 18, 2008
The Messiah and Silent Bob
I wanted to give a quick "attaboy" to the righteous dudes in The Vatican for NOT freaking out about the new film "The Messiah" from Iranian director Nader Talebzadeh.
The media have dubbed the move, now showing in Tehran, as an Islamic response to Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ.
As you can imagine, releasing a film of this subject matter in the Middle East presents ample opportunity for gasket blowing, ape going, cool losing and generally wigging out. I mean, we all remember the little embassy burning episode that happened with some newspapers printed likenesses of Mohamad, right?
Luckily, the "religion of peace" doesn't consider Jesus Christ an important enough prophet to go ballistic (literally) over. And also luckily, the religion of "fish on Friday, beer on Saturday and confession of Sunday" doesn't consider it a ruler-on-the-knuckles offense for a movie maker to say that Jesus is NOT the son of God.
In fact, rather than condemn Nader Talebzadeh for saying that Muslims don't consider J.C. to be the messiah, the funny hat dudes in Rome actually gave the film an award for "promoting interfaith understanding."
Imagine that -- trying to understand and get along with the infidels. It gives me hope that maybe Kansans and Missourians can learn to live together.
But most importantly, I think it's great that Jay and Silent Bob are able to continue their movie careers after the Kevin Smith's View Askewniverse films.
tagged: Iran, movie, Vatican, Kevin Smith, Jay and Silent Bob, Messiah, Nader Talebzadeh, Muhammad, Askewniverse
The media have dubbed the move, now showing in Tehran, as an Islamic response to Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ.
As you can imagine, releasing a film of this subject matter in the Middle East presents ample opportunity for gasket blowing, ape going, cool losing and generally wigging out. I mean, we all remember the little embassy burning episode that happened with some newspapers printed likenesses of Mohamad, right?
Luckily, the "religion of peace" doesn't consider Jesus Christ an important enough prophet to go ballistic (literally) over. And also luckily, the religion of "fish on Friday, beer on Saturday and confession of Sunday" doesn't consider it a ruler-on-the-knuckles offense for a movie maker to say that Jesus is NOT the son of God.
In fact, rather than condemn Nader Talebzadeh for saying that Muslims don't consider J.C. to be the messiah, the funny hat dudes in Rome actually gave the film an award for "promoting interfaith understanding."
Imagine that -- trying to understand and get along with the infidels. It gives me hope that maybe Kansans and Missourians can learn to live together.
But most importantly, I think it's great that Jay and Silent Bob are able to continue their movie careers after the Kevin Smith's View Askewniverse films.
tagged: Iran, movie, Vatican, Kevin Smith, Jay and Silent Bob, Messiah, Nader Talebzadeh, Muhammad, Askewniverse
Friday, February 15, 2008
Unfinished blogness: The Twilight Zone Meme
Last year, I was tagged by one of Kansas City's most no-no-notorious bloggers in the Twilight Zone Moment meme. The instructions:
I could write the story about the time I was locked in a bank vault while the rest of the world underwent a nuclear holocaust. Or there was the time I went half-crazy in a military experiment because I thought I was the only person on Earth. Or there was the time when I, as an elderly man, learned the secret of how to become young again by playing kick-the-can and left my old, wrinkled friends to rot in an nursing home.
But then, over the holidays, I had the following experience that I think qualifies.
EDIT: Oh crap! I forgot the most important thing -- the spreading of the virus. So, John B., R. Sherman, Cara (Just Cara), Shane and KC Sponge consider yourselves infected.
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December, and we were visiting my parents' house for a few days (this all happened before the Christmas Eve Massacre of 2007, but in retrospect I wonder if the two events aren't related by some mysterious cosmic force).
My Supermodel Wife and I were assigned one of the nicer guest rooms in my parents' large country estate home. It's a nice big room with great view of the river that runs at the base of a limestone cliff in the back yard. I always liked that river because it provides a soothing "gurgling brook" sound, a sort of a natural white noise to help you sleep.
The only problem is the bed. It's an old four-poster bed made out of walnut. Legend has it that it's been in the family for over a century. And that might have had something to do with why I was wide awake at 1:45 in the morning.
To say that it is uncomfortable is to undersell the definition of the word "uncomfortable." Medieval torture devices are uncomfortable. Water boarding is uncomfortable. This bed seemed to have an unholy grudge against my lower back.
It started out as a dull ache as I tossed and turned on the bouncy boxspring, trying not to wake up the sleeping beauty beside me. I tried sleeping on my back, on my side, on my other side, but that dull ache grew into an excruciating malevolent presence slithering from my lower back to the base of my skull and back again, each time making me crazier with the pain.
Soon I was delirious. I wasn't in control of my own mind. I began to hear a voice, a whisper at first that grew in to a howling shriek: "KILL THEM... KILL THEM ALL."
I crawled out of the bed in a pathological sweat, my mind on the sharpened ax near the woodpile at the back door. It was clear that there was only one way, one bloody, murderous way to relieve the pain.
But as I made my way to the foot of the stairs, my mind began to clear. Already I was feeling better, the devilish pain in my back now subsided once again to a dull ache. So giving up the quest for the ax (what did I need that for again? I couldn't remember), I made my way to the kitchen for a glass of ice water.
The light from the kitchen cabinets illuminated a stack of old family photos and books on the counter top. Some of the family had been reviewing these old photos and diaries from the family archive that my mother maintains in the old part of the house (originally built of native limestone in 1873 by my great, great grandfather).
I casually browsed through some of the pictures as I sipped the water. The suddenly I did a double take at one that was near the top of the stack. I bent down for a closer look and sure enough, there it was.
A group of settlers posing in their fine cloths, the men with long beards, the women in frumpy dresses, the children in decidedly stiff looking collared shirts and jackets. They were all posed around a bed. A four-poster bed that appeared to be made of walnut.
It was the very bed I had climbed out of only a few minutes before.
I picked up the picture to examine it. On the back was written, in very fine handwriting, the names of my ancestors in the picture along with the notation that they were "seated around Mama and Papa's bed made from walnut taken from the Stump Patch."
The Stump Patch! Of course, everything started to come together in my mind. The Stump Patch is well known in my family as the small section of field about a quarter mile west of the house, up stream along the creek that flows through the back yard.
The original settlers of the property, those who built the house in 1873, had given it the name Stump Patch after harvesting a grove of walnut trees one year, leaving a field of stumps that would later have to be uprooted and removed.
It was only as they removed the stumps the next year that my ancestors discover that it was not a naturally occurring walnut grove, but rather a grove planted intentionally by a large settlement of Arapaho Indians to enshrine the final resting place of many of their tribe who had died in a small pox epidemic in the early 1800s.
I finally began to understand. The murderous rage I had felt as a result of sleeping in the bed, the very bed made from the very walnut trees my ancestors had taken from a hallowed burial ground in an unwitting act of desecration was the Indian spirits' way of righting an ancient injustice.
Just then, my Supermodel Wife walked into the kitchen with a deranged look on her face and a cheese slicer...
tagged: story, Twilight Zone, Arapaho, ax murder, Stump Patch, cursed bed, Christmas
Recall and relate a time when you experienced a "paranormal event"It took me a while to come up with the right Twilight Zone Moment. There have been so many in my life.
Explain it rationally if you can
Inflict this meme on 5 other people
I could write the story about the time I was locked in a bank vault while the rest of the world underwent a nuclear holocaust. Or there was the time I went half-crazy in a military experiment because I thought I was the only person on Earth. Or there was the time when I, as an elderly man, learned the secret of how to become young again by playing kick-the-can and left my old, wrinkled friends to rot in an nursing home.
But then, over the holidays, I had the following experience that I think qualifies.
EDIT: Oh crap! I forgot the most important thing -- the spreading of the virus. So, John B., R. Sherman, Cara (Just Cara), Shane and KC Sponge consider yourselves infected.
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December, and we were visiting my parents' house for a few days (this all happened before the Christmas Eve Massacre of 2007, but in retrospect I wonder if the two events aren't related by some mysterious cosmic force).
My Supermodel Wife and I were assigned one of the nicer guest rooms in my parents' large country estate home. It's a nice big room with great view of the river that runs at the base of a limestone cliff in the back yard. I always liked that river because it provides a soothing "gurgling brook" sound, a sort of a natural white noise to help you sleep.
The only problem is the bed. It's an old four-poster bed made out of walnut. Legend has it that it's been in the family for over a century. And that might have had something to do with why I was wide awake at 1:45 in the morning.
To say that it is uncomfortable is to undersell the definition of the word "uncomfortable." Medieval torture devices are uncomfortable. Water boarding is uncomfortable. This bed seemed to have an unholy grudge against my lower back.
It started out as a dull ache as I tossed and turned on the bouncy boxspring, trying not to wake up the sleeping beauty beside me. I tried sleeping on my back, on my side, on my other side, but that dull ache grew into an excruciating malevolent presence slithering from my lower back to the base of my skull and back again, each time making me crazier with the pain.
Soon I was delirious. I wasn't in control of my own mind. I began to hear a voice, a whisper at first that grew in to a howling shriek: "KILL THEM... KILL THEM ALL."
I crawled out of the bed in a pathological sweat, my mind on the sharpened ax near the woodpile at the back door. It was clear that there was only one way, one bloody, murderous way to relieve the pain.
But as I made my way to the foot of the stairs, my mind began to clear. Already I was feeling better, the devilish pain in my back now subsided once again to a dull ache. So giving up the quest for the ax (what did I need that for again? I couldn't remember), I made my way to the kitchen for a glass of ice water.
The light from the kitchen cabinets illuminated a stack of old family photos and books on the counter top. Some of the family had been reviewing these old photos and diaries from the family archive that my mother maintains in the old part of the house (originally built of native limestone in 1873 by my great, great grandfather).
I casually browsed through some of the pictures as I sipped the water. The suddenly I did a double take at one that was near the top of the stack. I bent down for a closer look and sure enough, there it was.
A group of settlers posing in their fine cloths, the men with long beards, the women in frumpy dresses, the children in decidedly stiff looking collared shirts and jackets. They were all posed around a bed. A four-poster bed that appeared to be made of walnut.
It was the very bed I had climbed out of only a few minutes before.
I picked up the picture to examine it. On the back was written, in very fine handwriting, the names of my ancestors in the picture along with the notation that they were "seated around Mama and Papa's bed made from walnut taken from the Stump Patch."
The Stump Patch! Of course, everything started to come together in my mind. The Stump Patch is well known in my family as the small section of field about a quarter mile west of the house, up stream along the creek that flows through the back yard.
The original settlers of the property, those who built the house in 1873, had given it the name Stump Patch after harvesting a grove of walnut trees one year, leaving a field of stumps that would later have to be uprooted and removed.
It was only as they removed the stumps the next year that my ancestors discover that it was not a naturally occurring walnut grove, but rather a grove planted intentionally by a large settlement of Arapaho Indians to enshrine the final resting place of many of their tribe who had died in a small pox epidemic in the early 1800s.
I finally began to understand. The murderous rage I had felt as a result of sleeping in the bed, the very bed made from the very walnut trees my ancestors had taken from a hallowed burial ground in an unwitting act of desecration was the Indian spirits' way of righting an ancient injustice.
Just then, my Supermodel Wife walked into the kitchen with a deranged look on her face and a cheese slicer...
tagged: story, Twilight Zone, Arapaho, ax murder, Stump Patch, cursed bed, Christmas
Friday Blogthing: Feeling presidential
I'm pretty sure this grammatically challenged inkernet quiz conclusively proves that I'm just as good a candidate for president as any of the four remaining front runners.
Yes 65%
No 30%
tagged: Friday, test, politics, president, United States, Obama, meme, blog
Yes 65%
No 30%
tagged: Friday, test, politics, president, United States, Obama, meme, blog
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Turn of phrase
Let's face it, there's a lot of good blogging going on out there. Humbles me to read it.
Some of you people have a way with words that goes beyond poetry.
As a token of my admiration for your mad bloggin' skeelz, I've decided to start keeping a list of phrases gleaned from blogs that I plan on using in casual conversation sometime before I die.
Here's the first installment, complete with links to the original context of the phrase. I dare you to try not clicking on these links.
Also, let me know in the comments if you have any nominations for the list.
tagged: blogging, writing, colorful phrases, curly turds, jelly dong, fetish aneurism
Some of you people have a way with words that goes beyond poetry.
As a token of my admiration for your mad bloggin' skeelz, I've decided to start keeping a list of phrases gleaned from blogs that I plan on using in casual conversation sometime before I die.
Here's the first installment, complete with links to the original context of the phrase. I dare you to try not clicking on these links.
Also, let me know in the comments if you have any nominations for the list.
- techno-fetish aneurism
- knocked unconscious by a two-foot pink jelly dong
- Professional life can be a bitch when you sit next to a hygenically-challenged French sex-offender-in-training.
- as useful as a fart in a mitten
- if you've always wondered what full frontal necrophilia looks like on film, this one's for you
- festooned with curly turds
- parabolic journey of destiny
- That’s one reason why the porno gig also fell through, but that’s another story.
tagged: blogging, writing, colorful phrases, curly turds, jelly dong, fetish aneurism
Happy VD 2008!!
I know I don't say it enough, and I know it may sound corny and "ghey" (as some bloggers put it).
But I just wanted to take a moment on this day of all days to just try to express how much each and every one of you mean to me.
I love you guys. SRSLY. Even you, XO, you old coot!
I don't think I could say it any better than the Happy Tree Friends:
tagged: love, Valentine's Day, Happy Tree Friends, humor, holiday, animation, cartoon
But I just wanted to take a moment on this day of all days to just try to express how much each and every one of you mean to me.
I love you guys. SRSLY. Even you, XO, you old coot!
I don't think I could say it any better than the Happy Tree Friends:
tagged: love, Valentine's Day, Happy Tree Friends, humor, holiday, animation, cartoon
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