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2002.06.16 : 2002.06.22
Saturday, June 22, 2002
Blab. A reader is taken with our
heartwarming story of playing ...
HUGE
OUTDOOR CHESS!
Well, that is a pretty big chess set. A bit larger than the one at work,
though, which is more around this size:
Blab. A reader inadvertantly opens a can of worms.
So, how do you play team
Chess? Does Dave get to play too? Or does he just watch?
Readers are now required to submit
possible rules for the game of team chess. Rules not involving
beets will be eligible for a Special Award.
Blab. A reader whose life mission is to help the friends and
family of Congo Kabongo sends us this ...
[link]
We learn therein that Michel
Kabongo has been arrested. No doubt he was set up by certain enigmatic
organizations.
Blab. A reader interferes with our clever
plan to obtain a Lamborghini.
Hey Kafka -- Steve doesn't
need a pizza sent to him. He lives in NYC. Sushi maybe. The
REALLY expensive kind? Let me know when you plan on sending it and
I will be right there to pick it up ;)
Please excuse our various greedy readers, Kafkaesque.
They clutch and grab at us all the time though, of course, that's not an
excuse for their degrading behavior. Perhaps we can make it up to you with
this.
Ancient wings flutter
In Dark
Corners of the Earth.
This is not a game.
Blab. We have intercepted a message between the clandestine agencies
that watch our every move. It has been censored here for security purposes.
Yeah. Like Steve needs
a [deleted]. The [deleted] gets [deleted] in
August. Let's get it repaired first. THEN he can [deleted].
Any buyers out there?
We were unable to intercept the response.
Plurp. How many hits will we get to this entry if we use the
words Britney Spears naked pictures, or maybe Britney Spears
nude pictures?
A lot, we bet. Though it seems a lot like Doris Day naked pictures,
which is pretty disturbing all by itself.
 Plurp.
The blue dog found
everything
to be pretty much disturbing
Friday, June 21, 2002
Blab. A close, personal friend writes:
Subj: personal
From: "Peter Kabongo"
Dear Sir,
I am the eldest son of the late
Mike Kabongo (a foremost human rights activist in the Democratic Republic
of Congo). My father died in March 2001 as a result of the inhumane treatment
meted out on him while in prison by the government of Laurent Kabila. [...]  I
was then advised by my father's attorney (presently my attorney) to seek
the assistance of someone based in your country to receive the amount
in question being ($21,000,000). Since I have the intention of relocating
my family there with the aim of settling down there and investing. I have
decided to give you 5% of the total amount involved. [...] I urgently await
your response.
Yours faithfully
Peter KAbongo
Poor Peter. We think it's inevitable that all the other kids on the playground
called him Congo Kabongo.
Blab. Proof that spam dictates social convention these days can
be found in the details, like this reader who writes to us after yesterday's
spam.
Hey Bernard!!!
Hmm. Yesterday's spam. Nice expression. That's about as attractive
as yesterday's spam. We like that.
Blab. Another reader has a desperate need to know all about the
inner workings of our twisted psyche.
What sport DO you like???
We've always been drawn to various forms of lovemaking, ourself.
Blab. Is there an echo in here?
"(making it much like almost
every other sport in this regard)" Which sports are exceptions?
It is pretty bad. We used to fence (foil) and sometimes like watching fencing,
but it's hardly ever on that TV thing. We've lived in NYC for umpty-leven
years and have never been to a baseball game. We did get fascinated with
Sumo late one night in Tokyo, but mostly because we couldn't figure out
how they stuffed eight guys into one body like that.
Blab. Kafkaesque,
who is characteristically
funny today, only encourages us by making it appear that we can cause
him to take random actions as a result of writing things here.
OK Steve, I'll take off the
soccer thing on the link. Can I get you anything else? Large pizza perhaps?
A drink with a parasol in it? - Kafka
A Lamborghini, please. If it's not too much trouble. Thanks very.
Blab. The work week ends with a fantastic cliff-hanger.
... I don't have much time
to write, but I thought you should know - when your Bob sock puppet went
missing, he was in fact KIDNAPPED! The facts of his terrifying treatment
at the hands of the evildoers are too much to go into right now. I will
try to send additional messages to you, but I don't know if I will myself
be captured or killed. This is a dangerous mission I'm on.
The truth is shocking and worse than
you can imagine. I'm not surprised that his memory of the events that transpired
is blocked.
For now, I will tell you only this:
they cloned him.
Further details will follow.
.. call me "Agent Z"
Well, "Agent Z", unnamed informants did lead us to suspect kidnapping at
the time. And there were subsequent unsubstantiated rumors of cloning
by certain parties. But this is the closest we've been to The Truth.
In a long time, actually, but never mind that.
We await further reports with baited breadth.
Yak. Oprah, to her audience last night.
Every woman in America today
has been socialized to be a doormat. You agree, right?
Plurp. So it was a fine, sunny, somewhat too warm First Day of
Summer (which, oddly, comes on the same day as Midsummer), plus being a
Friday, so we decided to trundle out to that new Gigantic Chess Set
on the cafeteria patio at work and play a game that involves moving physical
things around. Isn't that novel?
So we talked Dave
and Ian and Alla into coming along,
and we all decided rather spontaneously to play round-robin team chess,
with the extra rule that you couldn't reveal your clever strategy to your
teammate. This latter rule resulted in a larger degree of stochastic play
than usual in the game, as well as a flagrant incident of harrumphing and
pointing and otherwise pretty much cheating in that regard by yours truly.
And, despite having to move physical things around, and not having anything
to shoot at, it was fun! You should try it.
Plurp.
The blue dog waited
with
bated depth
Thursday, June 20, 2002
Blab. A spammist who wants to be our dear friend writes:
Dear Bernard,
As you might expect, many of our customers
and prospects prefer the convenience of receiving IT product information,
and key updates on relevant services electronically. If you prefer, we
would like to communicate with you via email, too.
Dear Mortimer,
As you might expect, many people trying to sell us things prefer to
use our own name in addressing us. If you prefer, we would like you to
communicate with us in no way whatsoever.
Blab. A so-called Dave Woolley contributes three exclamations
of unknown connection.
Subj: Wow
You have lost it ! I've gone
through your site !!! I'm barking !
We have found it! The trees have ears!!! We are a donut!
Blab. A reader who claims to control reality dictates this:
Jedi Outcast does indeed
work on Win2k. I've been running it every night this week on a Windows
2000 Professional system. Need DirectX
8.1 perhaps?
Umkay. It just doesn't work on our Windows 2000 Professional, is that what
you're saying?
Actually, we believe you. (This places you in a privileged position
amongst our Treasured Readers.) We observe that games are wiggy. They work
on some Windows versions and not others, on some versions of DirectEcchs
and not others, and (this is the big one) on some graphics accelerator
chips and not others.
Yep, that's right. It's not enough that they use DirectEcchs, an alleged
interface, or even a particular version of DirectEcchs. They need particular
wiggy hardware underneath.
What a great operating system.
Plurp. One of the terms for which you searched
our meager Web site this past week:
"monet
outlet store"
Prolly not many of those, eh?
Plurp. Buy
Kirk's chair. Please.
Yow. We see that Kafkaesque
has, as threatened, installed a permanent-looking
link to us on his very front page. Ooh!
 Of
course, the hover help for the link does say, Steve White, who inexplicably
does not like or understand Soccer. Actually, it's certain soccer fans
that we do not understand.
But, come to think of it, we admit to not being all that enthralled
with the sport (making it much like almost every other sport in this regard).
We do think we understand it, though. They, like, kick a ball around, right?
Yow. A really easy to construct Gauss
rifle. This is so way cool! (leuschke)
Plop. Retired
Priest Indicted on 10 Child Rape Counts. Apparently, that's one above
the allowed maximum.
Plurp. One of the few things for which our home town is known,
and indeed perhaps the only thing for which it is known, (and even
that isn't widely known) is the Santa
Maria Style Barbeque, so called because of the name of the town, rather
than it having been invented by the Mother of God. (Not to disparage the
Mother of God. She might well have invented it, then got busy with other
things and forgot to tell people. This happens to us all the time.)
This particular culinary excess consists of serving, on a single plate,
baked beans, garlic bread, and a peculiar cut of beef grilled over a large
open fire. Said cut, the tri-tip,
seems to be nearly unique to Santa Maria. We suspect a drunken butcher
way back when.
We have no idea why were compelled to tell you that. Or why you were
compelled to read it. So many mysteries!
Plurp.
The blue dog was a
Santa Maria Style
donut
Wednesday, June 19, 2002
Blab. On the topic of being legion,
a reader of some religious persuasion writes:
And the beast shall be made
legion. Its numbers shall be increased a thousand thousand fold. The din
of a million keyboards like unto a great storm shall cover the earth, and
the followers of Mammon shall tremble.
from The Book of Mozilla, 3:31
Hallelujah. Carriage return.
Blab. Things have been a bit slow in Plurpville lately.
And you know what we do when that happens. Right - we add extra modulators
to our mind control lasers. Our latest frob is a demultiplexor for schizophrenics.
<Legion , Ay, we couldn’t
match that.>
<<< We’d be puppets in their
hands>>>
<<Considering Steve's tendencies.............Tenticles?>>
<<<there’s only three of
us>>>
<Four if you count Wolfie>
<<Wolfie doesn’t count>>
<<Eats well...and other things
though>>
<<<Can’t count you mean,
surely>>>
<what about Him?>
<<He’s not real though, just
the front man........ that everyone thinks......>>
<Anyway we couldn’t cope with a
1000 even if we were 5>
<<<1000.....Plus administrative
support surely>>>
<You’re forgetting that later on
they only had 60 in a century>
<<<So about 600 then?>>>
<Plus administrative support>
<<<No wonder Steve thinks
you’re anally retentative and a Lawyer>>>
<How many tenticles each??>
<<What are we doing appearing
in public>>
<<<Augh its those satelite
thingies..............>>>
Dang! We almost had the settings right ...
Blab. A reader introduces itself.
I am idle rumor.
Nice to meet you. We are merely idle.
Blab. A reader takes a perfectly good conversational thread and
spins it off into blasphemy.
I think this
recent picture of the Pope answers the question of why the Pope isn't
reacting quickly to claims about American pedophile priests. To him it
isn't pedophilia but beastiality, which is an entirely different kettle
of catfood (to spontaneously creat a helenism when one is needed. so as
to speak)
He Who Must Be Fed, eh?
Blab. ... and then recants.
No of course its not a helenism
-Its brain fade- Sorry
Quite.
Blab. A reader wishes us to have fun.
Islamic
Fun CD-ROM!
Included is this fun game.
THE RESISTANCE
You are a farmer in South Lebanon
who has joined the Islamic Resistance to defend your land and family from
the invading zionists.
Plus, it's a first-person shooter! (But with our luck, it won't run on
a ThinkPad.)
Blab. A reader consumed with social collectives
writes:
Ancillary comment on your
post asking why people identify with sports teams.
Being the good, old-fashioned geek
that I am, I greatly enjoy both tabletop role-playing and computer games,
so I've been quite excited about a computer game called Neverwinter Nights
for the last several years as it has been developed (and hitting the local
store shelves just today, as a matter of fact). NWN seeks to combine the
good things about both tabletop and computer role-playing games in one
package, which sounds like fun to me.
Anyway, I've been following on the
boards on the developer's website for a while, and as often as not, the
posts seem to consist of little more than, "Neverwinter Nights iz gowin
2 ROXXXX!!! [Insert some other other game title, usually Diablo II, here]
SUXXXXX!!!"
It also reminds me of back when I
was a kid, and the big arguments were often which was the better pickup
truck or car, a Ford or Chevy. Around here in Bumblephook, Missouri, I
still see vehicles with stickers in their windows of a Calvin-like cartoon
boy taking a wee-wee on a Chevy or Ford logo.
There's even some of this in my own
"religion," i.e., I hate Windows so much I wish there were more hours in
the day so I could hate it more. I'm a hard-core Machead, even if I actually
haven't used one in years, and take it sort of personally when the techno-nazis
who have forced me to use Windows bad-mouth my computer platform of choice
(and, incidently, rob me of my ability to choose it).
As much as we like to think that we're
individuals first and foremost, and that we're above the various groupisms
that have dogged the species since we first began to walk upright, we are
all born with some need, more or less, to be part of a group, and that
belonging to that group in some way gives us at least part of our identity.
It sets us apart, and allows us to take on to ourselves some of the accomplishments
of other members of our group. In some ways, it could be seen as a form
of sympathetic magic.
So, some people identify with a sports
team. Others define themselves based on what games they play, what books
they read, where they live, what sort of car they drive, what speaker wire
they use in their stereo systems, where they work, their nationality, the
color of their skins, their sex.
And, unfortunately, one of the traditional
ways members of a group have to agrandize their own position is to deprecate
-- even demonize -- members of their "rival" group.
No point here, really, and it certainly
isn't an original observation. Carry on as if nothing happened.
L.
Where to begin? Or end? We are forced to limit ourself to a single observation,
though that is admittedly difficult.
Please feel free to identify with a group. But forgive us our confusion
(as we forgive those ...) if we don't understand it when you identify with
a group that doesn't know you from J. Fred Shirley-Harold, and in which
you have nothing in common.
We will, however, check out NWN. With our luck, it won't run
on our stupid computer.
Blab. A very visual reader wants to know ...
Is it a blue funk?
Absolutely.
Blab. Another reader asks the eternal question ...
Why, no matter how fast the
machine, does Java never seem to run any faster? Shouldn't it behave according
to Moore's law like everything else? But there I was last night, at the
XML-SIG meeting in downtown Manhattan (so ... many ... BEARDS), watching
someone demonstrate an SVG player in Java and doing a starfield display
hack - you know, the same Star-Trek ripoff starfield that moved smooth
as silk on your Commodore 64, hell, your VIC 20, hell, your Timex Sinclair
2000 with its membrane keyboard, and it's ... just ... jerking ... around
... on ... screen. And it's running on a fast machine; there's no excuse,
I mean, at some pt, shouldn't the 6 years of processor speed increases
actually make a difference?
Sincerely,
A Concerned Citizen
It's not just Java. It's everything. Look at the response of a typical
word processor of 1982 versus one in 2002. You'd think that two fricking
decades
of Moore's Law would have made mind boggling improvements, wouldn't you?
But they haven't.
Oh, sure, there have been improvements. You can now be illiterate in
far more colors and fonts. You can include pictures of your slobbering
little brats in your documents. And, for this, we waited twenty years?
The hardware folks have done their job. It's the software crudlets that
dropped the ball, year after year, system after system. It's software that
has fallen behind exponentially while hardware made exponential progress.
It is Billy's Law that has sopped up all the fantastic power of Moore's
Law. We software dweebs are the scourge of the universe.
Well, you software dweebs, anyway.
Rant. As predicted, Soldier of Fortune
II doesn't work on our laptop. It displays a partial and gibbering
menu, failing to respond rationally to the mouse, and requires the Task
Manager's involvement in its mercy killing.
Similarly with Jedi Knight II, though
its blurbs also claim it works on Windows 2000. Bzzt.
We're pretty sick of this. Kind reader
suggestions are encouraged. In the meantime, we will restrict our buying
to games whose free, downloadable demos seem to actually work on our stupid
computer.
Plurp.
The blue dog
ran slower in each
successive year
Tuesday, June 18, 2002
Blab. Kindly seeking to draw us out of the funk we're
in because no good games run on our stupid PC, a reader suggests:
Jedi Knight II: Jedi Outcast...
highly recommended, if you like that sort of thing.
Hmm. We don't actually know if we like that sort of thing or not. But we
are game (heh) to download
the demo and try it out. We'll let you know. But our cynical prediction
is that we'll spend several hours downloading and installing the demo,
only to find that it won't run on our PC. Woe is us.
Blab. That bot that was mocking us yesterday
now recants.
No, no! We weren't asking
for advice, we were asking about YOUR home computer. Silly human.
Ah, so that's your story now, is it? Fine. We have just one computer,
an IBM ThinkPad
T21. We don't believe in a computer in every room, despite our
other nerdy tendencies. Even if we did, we'd still only have the one.
Blab. A reader informs us that:
I am legend.
Only in your own mind.
Blab. A reader with an ax to sharpen writes:
 I
would say that KPAX is a good argument for not getting a DVD player. Or
even a magic lantern. In fact, KPAX is probably a reason for inventing
a time machine and going back in time to kill whoever thought of it.
Now just imagine how scathing I could be if I had actually seen the thing!
Tell you what. We'll arrange a private screening of K-PAX for you (which
we thought was a cute, if predictable, movie) if you'll invent a time machine
for us. Deal?
Blab. Plurp's own regular poster boy for Superiorus
Sportus Identificata writes:
Now Steve...
Why ya have to go and name me as the
World Cup example?
While it is true that I am eating
pretzels at this very moment, I am in fact quite svelte and can play soccer
(or football or even futbol) adequately...though certainly by no stretch
of the imagination, well.
Soccer means a lot to me. My parents
were English, so I was raised with a fervent love for the game. The World
Cup is the best in all of sports for me.
I want to see soccer be more widely
accepted in this country. The US beating Mexico and Portugal is on a par
with some of the greatest sports upsets...well, ever.
Anyway, I assume what you meant with
your post was that you don't get how anyone can be so wrapped up in sports
in general. I don't know. There is, I think, a wish that it was me out
there gaining that glory on the largest of stages. But more just the appreciation
of the sport. I know how difficult it is, and I appreciate the skills on
display, the magic of the strategy and buildup towards the elusive goal.
It's like poetry (you know, if poetry was written by two teams of eleven
players each and thousands of people watching with strangely painted body
parts).
I've been enjoying Plurp lately.....and
I really must link you on my page. I'm just so damn busy with the pretzels
and the soccer, you know :)
I feel like a regular feature on your
page, what with my underwear suit idea and the ponytail comment...and now
this example of sportiness.
anyway
GOOOOOOOOOOOL!
Chris
Naturally, we didn't mean to single you out in this regard.
Well, actually, thinking about it again, we suppose we did mean
to single you out. But only as an honorific activity, being, as it is,
a tribute to our Dear Friend Kafkaesque,
whose writing we think is our own and whom we have never met.
Huh?
Anyhow, we do understand how people can get into sports. We don't,
but we do get into lots of other random things. Games. Technodweebism.
Like that.
 What
we don't understand, and it is clearly our own social or mental disability,
is the notion that other people's victories have anything to do with us.
And even that's not quite right. When we read about IBM Research's prototype
of a storage device with a trillion bits per square inch, we thought,
So
cool! and we felt a certain familial pride even though we had nothing
at all to do with this achievement. Still, we have done cool stuff at IBM
Research, and we (and they) are part of what makes this a cool place.
The We're Number One thing, on the other hand, is mysterious
to us. We live in New York, where several sports teams are based. But,
when they score more "points" than some other team, we feel no familial
pride. We didn't do anything like what they did. We just live here.
So! <Insert brilliant philosophical synthesis here.> And, in the
meantime, we will continue mashing the buttons of our fellow bloggers,
as long as it continues to elicit high-quality responses as illustrated
above.
Thanks!
Blab. For some reason, a reader writes to us.
'Evil' Microsoft & XML
/me didn't read the story "Microsoft
to Give XML Bigger Role in Office" cause this are two worlds they couldn't
fit together.
If you compare .doc files (Word files)
with XML, it's like talking to people the normal way (XML) or talking like
this: 001110101010101111000010101010101001010101
We always talk like that. So?
 Plurp.
In a bid to return a modicum of sanity and propriety to the political arena,
wrestler
Jesse
Ventura said today that he will not seek re-election as Governor of
the Great State of Minnesota.
"I'm kind of like Che Guevera,"
he said. "I lead the revolution but at some point I turn it over to someone
else."
We figure he's headed for Cuba now. Or California.
Yo. Mia seems
to have made an appearance, accidentally, in Dave's
blog. We hope she's OK.
Yow. We like Steven
Wright.
I'm a peripheral visionary.
I can see into the future — just way off to the side.
Just like us.
Oh. Maybe he is us.
Plop. Some days, we wish it was the first day of the rest of
someone else's life. Ya know?
Plurp.
The blue dog
was
number one
Monday, June 17, 2002
Blab. A reader wants to know things. Readers
should be careful about that. Really they should.
Nah with reguard to Sundays
question,, and given your policy 'to fling every last shred of our remaining
privacy.....' the question that has to be asked is "HOW
MANY ARE YOU" We always wanted to know <and nows our chance> <<Yes
yes it is>> <shut up, only one of us at a time in public>>
We are legion.
Blab. Mocking our selfless policy of helping readers with their
various life problems, a reader writes:
Home computer: Intel or AMD?
ATI Radeon or nVidia GeForce? Desktop or laptop?
Due to your transgressions, you are hereby forbidden from using a computer
until otherwise notified. Sorry.
Plop. Sigh. It's another Big Technology Change.
We noticed at Blockbusters the other day that about a third of their
inventory of current movies is in DVD format. Then, upon renting K-PAX,
we discovered that, prior to watching the movie, we are required to sit
through fifteen minutes of ads for A Beautiful Mind on DVD, of E.T. on
DVD.
OK. We get the hint. We suppose we'll have to go out and get a DVD player.
Grumble.
We are a Late Adopter. We love inventing this stuff. We hate acquiring
it. Too complicated. Too many options. Too many things that go wrong. Plus
everything we ever acquired previously is made obsolete.
Who ever thought that Planned Obsolescence would extend to bits?
Rant. We bought Soldier of Fortune II last weekend, anticipating
a cool first-person-shooter in which we play a freelance functionary of
the U.S. Government, running around the world slaughtering people designated
by unnamed superiors as Evildoers, free of pesky concerns of morality or
outcome.
We keep wanting to do that.
Sadly, the Masonic Order seems intent on preventing us from occupying
this mental state. In this case, they fell back on their usual ploy: Making
sure the game didn't work on our Thinkpad.
Oh sure, the box said it worked just fine on Windows 2000. But it didn't.
First, it insisted on installing some random new version of DirectX. (So
called because it allows programs direct access to graphics and sound hardware
that, in any rational operating system, would be insulated by a sturdy
layer within the operating system.) When run, the screens come up at tectonic
speeds, and only incompletely. The only way to exit the game is a power-on
reboot of the system.
Pretty sad stuff!
Naturally, uninstalling the entire game did not fix this behavior. No,
the Masonic Order is not without its sense of humor, or its sense of vengeance.
Even our old games had graphical aberrations.
We ended up downloading an official version of DirectX from Evil Microsoft,
and rebooting and fiddling around to install it.
Things seem to be restored to their previous state of badness, except
that we're out a few dozen dollars for a non-working game. And, of course,
the remaining hooks in our system are reporting our every move to the Masonic
Order.
Plop. We have somehow come to the present via an odd path through
time and culture not shared by the other beings on this planet. What else
could possibly explain the fact that a film like Scooby-Doo
grosses $56.4 billion in its first weekend?
Really - what could?
Yo. Letterboxing.
Geocaching without all that messy technology.
Plurp.
So the USA soccer (sorry - football) team seems to have scored more
"points" than some other group of people, and therefore emerged
victorious at something or other. Fine.
But now begins that odd ritual wherein people who were not playing the
game (and who, in most cases, would have a hard time doing without beer
and pretzels for that long) come to believe that they too, in some sense,
also won. This even happens to bloggers, Kafkaesque
being an example that comes to mind.
We just don't understand that.
Plurp.
The Masonic Order
was a wholly owned subsidiary of
the blue dog
Sunday, June 16, 2002
Blab. A reader seeks personal information from us. We
do not object, of course. We are only too happy to fling every last shred
of our remaining privacy out into public if only it can bring a tiny bit
of pleasure to our readers.
how old are you?
Six.
Blab. Mistaking us for a life counselor, or a self-actualization
guru, a reader writes:
how do i get rich?
Step 1. Make lots of money.
Step 2. Give lots of it to us, for telling you about Step 1.
Blab. Mistaking us for either a reviewer of (analog) "television",
or a social pundit, a reader writes:
Have you seen the TV show
Cheaters? Whats your take on it? Do you think that Americans(or the world
for that matter) are taking the whole "Reality" show thing too far?
We admit to never having seen Cheaters.
That might be because it's on locally at 2
AM Thursday, and we are often otherwise occupied at that time.
The premise
seems to be that a person (the cheatee) calls the show to fink on
their significant other (the cheater) whom they think is, well,
cheating on them. Goons from the show then stalk the cheater, getting juicy
video of the cheater's alleged improprieties. They then confront the cheater
in flagrante delicto, and a small army of video photographers ensures
that the whole salacious thing gets shown on minor TV stations in the dead
of night.
But that's not what you asked. You asked if we think this whole "Reality"
thing has gone to far.
Not in the least! We'd like to see the franchise extended to the dalliances
of Catholic priests, and to vicious little kids who mutilate their pets.
Surely those clever executives can think up some disgusting behavior that
has not yet been the topic of a "television" show?
For that matter, we think it should be extended to employees who mutter
rude things about their employers in the privacy of their own homes, and
to anyone who has ever done anything the least bit out of the ordinary.
It is, after all, important to focus the media's microscope on everything
we formerly considered private, while simultaneously satisfying the need
of all those Walter
Mitty look-alikes to live their meager, vicarious lives.
Blab. A colorful reader writes:
Subj: regarding the
post on March 11th, 2002.
Steve: You can make your own
judgments on this....
Basic
highlights of theory, acausal connections, and primary mathematical
intuitions, Pauli, Jung.
Highlights
of the experience, with appropriate comments from PEAR.
Regarding Kochab:
An orange giant in Ursa Minor, which
exhausted its primary fuel many eons ago.
It, and a companion star are known
in legend as the Guardians of the Pole.
One chamber of the great pyramid is
aligned with Kochab, dated around, 2476bce.
Two meanings were found:
1. The star
2. Waiting Him that Cometh
"what is obvious is sometimes false,
what is unexpected sometimes true." Carl Sagan, (Contact).
Sincerely,
Todd Laurence
Todd's a colorful
guy. Perhaps the following excerpt
will illustrate why we think so.
In mid-November I had met
a man through the internet named Todd Laurence.
He is a psychologist who lives in
the Bronx, NY.
Our phone conversations centered around
the prophecies of Nostradamus and a star called Kochab. [...]
Todd links Kochab to the prophecies
of Nostradamus. He believes that the Earth will soon experience a supernova
- the light from the star Kochab - which he equates with the 'Star of Revelation'.
Todd and I enjoy time traveling -
or remoting viewing together. [...]
I remembering time traveling to ancient
Egypt twice with Todd when with first met - the first experience being
the most profound.
We are pleased to have such colorful readers.
Blab. It seems to be Abject Confusion Day here at Plurp
as our periodically misguided correspondent
Imani sends us this lovely image of someone who might be a friend of
hers, figuring we would be interested which, of course, we are.
Soon, we will know every detail of the life of this person who thinks
we're someone else.
Blab. A reader has the simplest method yet for us to move to
California.
* travel to CA by air
* http://www.airlinemeals.net/
* and google found this on "airline
meal":
* Skip airline meals (http://www.flyana.com/meal.html)
So let's see. The linked advice is: (a) don't eat airline food; it's crummy,
or (b) eat carbs and drink water, or (c) order a Special Meal.
We like (c). It makes us feel special.
Plurp. So we should tell you the Heartwarming Urban Story of
what we did for Father's Day.
-
Slept until noon. Well, almost.
-
Watched several movies in which a bus enters from the left and, rather
than exiting to the right, explodes.
-
Read a systems management architecture proposal.
-
Wrote Plurp.
The name's Mitty.
Plurp.
The blue dog
was not acquainted with
Mr. Mitty
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