Plurp: Raised by a family of wild dingos

Bigger!

2003.11.30 : 2003.12.06

Saturday, December 6, 2003
Plurp.

Friday, December 5, 2003
Blab. An appreciative reader who has been hanging around these parts for way too long writes:
"The Pornography of Meat?" Clearly just someone trying to ride the coattails of the wildly popular "The Geometry of Produce."
This brings back fond memories.

"Know ye of the geometery of produce?" the man asked, enigmatically. The monks replied that they did not, and would thank the man very kindly to leave the area as he seemed to be of demonic origins. The man agreed to leave, but first gave the monks an enigmatic diagram before disappearing in a puff of smoke.
Those were great times, weren't they? We should get back to our famous Collections of Enigmatic Images contests sometime soon.

Blab. While we're on the subject of food, and of eating sushi off of the (nearly) naked bodies of men at that, a gay man from Louisiana writes:
naked men? We should try that!
Something tells us that you already have.
Why do we find this distasteful?

We can't imagine.

Blab. A reader disputes the decision of the judges in the ongoing hypothetical battle between various nutters.
My vote goes to Mr. Gene Ray (aka "Time Cube", in the left corner). This is of course due to his brilliant use of colours, giant font sizes (great minds always think big fonts), insults, colours, his compelling and neverending explanation of "NATURE'S HARMONIC SIMULTANEOUS 4-DAY TIME CUBE", great colours, plus he has been judged schizophrenic by a psychiatrist (and is proud of it, man). Oh, did I mention colours?
Mr. Menkin does not us colours as abundantly as my browser would allow, has apparently not been judged schizophrenic and did not even insult me.
Oh. I don't get to vote, right? Oh, well.
Very smart S.
Of course you get to vote! And we assure you that your vote here in Plurp has every bit as much influence over the final results as your many votes for national leaders.

Blab. A reader is confused by the following.
An old Scottish saying -- "There is no such thing as bad weather, just wrong clothes"
That's because the Scots can change their clothes.

Blab. A reader expresses covetousness. It's that time of year.
Oh, I could see a real marketing marriage with Crayola! Add these to my Christmas list. Or Christopher's. I want a full set!
Helen
Right. So whichever of you intends to maintain a "Christmas list" for this mythical "Helen" person should add those genetically-engineered bioluminescent fish toot sweet.
Umkay?

Blab. A reader wishes to extend the genre.
Rare one-world Helenism from TV the other day:
"mindframe"
   + "frame of mind"
   + "mindset"
{inw}
Should we admit these perverse, single-word phrases to the holy shrine of Helenisms? As usual, we're going to let our readers decide!

Blab. A reader chides us. And with good reason.
So you didn't even take the time to go through Anchorhead (Lovecraftian text adventure)? Pity.
Two great parts
- Reading the big, black, evil book
- Finding the right time to scream
- Felis Lynx
Actually, we downloaded Anchorhead, but we weren't smart enough to figure out how to install it. Isn't that sad? We found spk files, z5 files, z8 files. We figured there must be an interpreter or emulator or something, but we had no idea what to do.
Today, we went looking for the download site so as to document our stupidity here. But then! But then Google spat out this lovely site, on which some dedicated dweeb has created a Web-accessible version of Anchorhead, complete with nostalgic green-on-black IBM Monochrome Monitor emulation.
What joy! Now, even without figuring out how to install the dumb thing on our PC, we can run around a Lovecraftian world that's all in our head, frustrated at our inability to figure out the puzzles or even find the big, black, evil book.
Just like always.
Is this the right time to scream?

Plurp. We got a call from another headhunter yesterday. This one's looking for technical managers for Google, a company that we greatly admire. We were duly flattered and all, but had to admit that we're having a pretty good time doing what we're doing at the moment.
So all you Californians will just have to live without us for a bit longer. Sorry.

Yow. Best Spam Subject Line O' The Day!
Would you like to add the words "college graduate" to your resume?
We're not sure that would be a great career move.

Plurp. A pop-up ad for AOL 9 advertises ...
Optimized Spam Fighting!
... and features a tough-looking guy with his fist clenched.
Is this a new sport? We feel so out of touch.

Yo. Science marches outward.
Big-boobed gals have a new reason to stick out their chests with pride. A surprising study proves they're more intelligent than their small-breasted sisters!
The study of 1,200 women conducted by Chicago sociologists comes in the wake of a recently released report stating that blonde rocket scientists outnumber brunettes. [...]
"Well-endowed women, many of them shyly concealing their assets behind lab coats in research and development departments across the country, could be considered America's secret weapon," the researcher observes.
No comment.

Plop. The "possible one inch of accumulation" today became the beginning of The Blizzard of 2003.
By the time we were done with our last meeting, pretty much everyone had fled and the lab was nearly deserted. We hung around until friend Bill found his car keys (which were hiding near the printer for a panicked half hour or so), after which he kindly took us to the train station for a massively transited homecoming. This is in contrast to friend David, who spent several hours in bumper-to-bumper road slickness tonight before arriving home a few blocks north of us.

Which is to say, we regret that tonight's beach party will be postponed.
Still, here we are, warm in bed, having just finished an incredible dinner of sushi. Is it gloating to say that we love this place in spite of it all?
Yeah, prolly. Sorry.

Plurp.
The blue dog coveted
big-breasted, blonde,
spam-fighting
college graduates

Thursday, December 4, 2003
Blab. A reader notices the clearing out of the backlog, so to speak.
aaahh... a Plurpocopia!
Every day a celebration.

Blab. A reader informs us of a predictable way point on our journey to insanity.
"... seriously considered another alternate-reality series called _The Man In The High Castle In The Outback_, in which 12 women would compete for the love of a Jewish man hiding in Australia under an assumed name because the Allies lost WWII to Nazi Germany."
Sigh. We know what we'll be watching next season.

Blab. A reader suggests the horrifying possibility that our false memories of getting up at 5:30 AM day after day is something more than mere errant engrams.
nonono. You WERE crawling out of bed at some unGodly hour. I was there and then.....I wasn't.....I thought it was all a nightmare. Or a morningmare.........I don't know.............
We won't even discuss what happened this morning. Not a word.

Blab. A reader commits the sin of greed.
Yeah, nice piece of Roman glass but I really did like a couple of the other things on that page. Perfect for Christmas. Wrap them in bright paper so I will know they are from you.
Our readers are invited to figure out who this is and send them stuff from the referenced page. Wrap it in bright paper. Really expensive bright paper.

Blab. Knowing how we fret over our readers' internal mental states, a reader updates us.
Helen's on top again. I feel better.
So does Helen.

Blab. More fallout from our delightful little story about Downsville.
I don't understand why that guy was offended by your Maryland story. I actually felt sorry for you after reading it, but not so much compared to mine: went to Vegas with 2 other gals to party and there were children EVERYWHERE. Why on earth do people take children to Vegas? All I can think of is to leave them there - like their ad campaign. "Stays in Vegas"
So, two things. First, we wonder why our Treasured Reader felt sorry for us. Was the writing that bad? Second, yes. The primary social function of Las Vegas is as a disposal site for unwanted children.

Blab. On a possibly parallel point is this reader.
Why is is that people who hunt are so very defensive? More to the point, should very defensive people be carrying firearms?
From another enlightened "urbanite"
We were unaware that there was a correlation.
Anyhow, what is the chemical composition of urbanite?

Blab. We have just a single entry in our Stupid Plurp Contest from yesterday. Let's see how well our Uniquely Treasured Reader did.
Where no one lives on account of the pace, yet 7 million are swinging for space: Idaho.
The rumble of the subway train, the rattle of the taxi: Your cousin John and his little dog Maxi.
The city's glamour could never spoil the dreams of a boy and girl: Grand Rapids.
the New York Times and the Daily News: sibling racehorses missing since 1978.
I'll make a brand new start of it: Frank Sinatra.
We've gotta have the game or we'll die from shame: Tic-Tac-Toe.
I'm New York City born and raised: Your cousin John again.
They say I'll take a bus back home....: Mona and Louise.
You move too fast, got to make the morning last: Premature matriculation.
And watch her as she grows in my garden: a mushroom.
London Bridge is falling down, boy and girl together: Mona and Louise again.
Tell them of how I? yearning to mingle with that old time crowd: Skull and Bones.
It's the avenue I? taking you to: Forty-Second Street.
is pocket's filled with spending loot: Bette Davis.
It spells the thrill of first nights: "t-h-e space t-h-r-i-l-l space o-f space f-i-r-s-t space n-i-g-h-t-s"
(I'm not sure about that last one.)
93% correct. Very good! (We didn't think anyone would get Grand Rapids.)

Blab. Our massive international readership was all hand-wringy-dingy during the recent temporal rift. And who can blame them?
Où est le chien bleu?
... and ...
Wo ist der blaue Hund?
... and ...
Onde está o cão azul?
We have no idea what they mean, but we treasure their collective concern.

Blab. Our attempt at introducing a Plurp contest this week was ignored by all but one of our readers. Perhaps we should cede this function to our readers altogether.
New reader-inflicted Plurp contest: A government site advocating web design usability violates a number of its own rules (as well as some they forgot to mention).
How many can you spot?
What an atrocious Web page! Yikes!
Which is to say, this should be a contest easy enough for even our readers. So get to it.

Blab. A reader leaves the fish out in the sun.
Naked sushi for androphiles!
So that enlightened Seattle sushi joint that was serving sushi off of the (nearly) naked bodies of women is now serving sushi off of the (nearly) naked bodies of men as well?
It's an outrage.

Blab. A reader seeks to highlight our failures in life.
Another online psychologimacal testamajig, this one determines your right, or creative, brain power.
We come out at 15 Watts (a dim bulb).

Blab. A reader gets its priorities straight.
Finally got around to that text-adventure set in Ludicorp. I'm stuck, though. I've gotten in Wintermute's tower, but have no idea how to get through the airlock. I've been trying to get the "something shiny" out of the roof drain to no avail.   I've poured a ton of water through it to the pipe in the maintenance room, but nothing comes out.
I understand that you (Steve) may be too busy for such mindless activities, but somebody out there has got to know something....
Sitting at 118 points and going nowhere....
- Felis Lynx
It is well known that we are too mindless for such busy activities. We played the stupid thing for a half hour or so several weeks ago and never got anywhere. We remember a shed and a well, but that's about all.
This is pretty much our experience with text-based adventure games. We always get stuck and feel stupid. It's like work. The only way we ever enjoyed them is to (1) read a walkthrough on the Web, and only then (2) order the game. By the time it arrives and we get around to installing it, we've forgotten just enough of the walkthrough to make the game fun but not impossible.
Maybe that's why we like first-person shooters better.

Plop.Bad news for all you tank drivers.
The auto industry agreed on Wednesday to make design changes to sport utility vehicles and pickup trucks sold in the United States [...] to reduce the likelihood that they would skip over the front bumpers of cars in collisions.
We know. That'll take all the fun out of it.
Sorry.

Yo. Intel wonk says Moore's Law will end in 15 years or so. (Actual article here.)
Manufacturers will be able to produce chips on the 16-nanometer manufacturing process, expected by conservative estimates to arrive in 2018, and maybe one or two manufacturing processes after that, but that's it.
"This looks like a fundamental limit," said Paolo Gargini, director of technology strategy at Intel and an Intel fellow.
Could be. We think we're in the middle of it pooping out right now on account of heat dissipation. No one believes us. But you'll see. Yeah, you'll see.

Yow. Hey - an op ed piece on Fox that we actually agree with. What's up with that?
Oh. It's just a Libertoonian wacko with an interesting blog. Figures.

Plop. Further Tales of the South! It seems that, in Louisiana, teachers discipline kids for stating that their parents are gay. And that's considered altogether proper.
Dear MOM
Today I had a problem in school.
What I did: I sed bad wurds
What happened because I did what I did: Lineing up fur riyses.
What I should have done: Cep my mouf shut
Yes, the kid was required to write that. The teacher's note to the parents says, He explained to another child that you are gay and what being gay means.
On the School Behavior Report, the teacher writes:
Marcus decided to explain to another child in his group that his mom is gay. He told the other child that gay is when a girl likes a girl. This kind of discussion is not acceptable in my room. I feel that parents should explain things of this nature to their own children in their own way.
Fortunately, there are checks and balances. Having looked into this case, the Superintendent concludes:
I have reviewed the documented records on this matter, as well as have met with the school principal and have concluded that the student's discipline was unrelated to any judgment by school officials regarding sexual orientation or practices, or the student's discussion of that particular topic.
So everything's fine.
What we wonder is why this kid is almost completely illiterate. Must be the gay parents. (The Agitator)

Plurp. New from Amazon: The Pornography of Meat. No, we are not kidding. (Mike)

Yow. 10 Reasons why Plurp is better than a beet. Who knew?

Plurp.
What did the blue dog
do upon hearing
that heartwarming story from
Louisiana?

Muesnesday, December 1.5-2.5, 2003
Blab. You know, we thought the temporal rift from last week was all taken care of. But we continue to experience false memories of crawling out of bed, zombie-like, at 5:30 AM day after day and getting almost no sleep.
So, maybe not.
A reader offers an ominous explanation.
You said "move", server says "Invalid destination -- a space-time anomaly would be created".
We thought this, too, was a false memory, a bizarre, terrifying error message from GNE.
But, maybe not.

Blab. Another reader sends yet another piece of the puzzle.
Gravity leaking into other dimensions -- cool! Does anyone know if dark matter and energy is in our dimension along with normal matter and energy, or is dark matter exerting a gravitational influence from outside our dimension?
All we know is that dark energy is the only energy we seem to have left.

Blab. A reader who appears somehow to coexist with us, perhaps in a parallel dimension, writes:
I must protest! I live with Dr Plurp and I still miss my daily Plurp. I log on and pay my dues everyday. Yet nothing seems to ever change. Tomorrow I with start withholding ........ something.
Hmm. So Plurp is visible in other dimensions. This could explain many odd events of late.

Blab. Closing out this theme for today, one of the jackbooted thugs who watch our every move writes, ingratiatingly:
Good night, Plurp dear.
Would that we were sleeping, dear jackbooted thug, would that we were sleeping.

Blab. After reading our charming little story about Downsville, a reader is both relieved and befuddled. Just like us!
I am very glad you survived Maryland. Wondering what the plastic sheaths were for is promising to keep me occupied for several hours at the least.
We still have no idea what they were. Several possibilities came to mind. But we try not to think about stuff like that.
So did they have ice cream?
Yes. Then, a reader seems to accuse us of something.
Snob.
And, perhaps along these same lines:
Nice demonstration of how people who consider themselves sophisticated urbanites can be just as small-minded as the people they look down upon. Excellent writing!
Are we? Our charming little story was entirely factual and free of editorialization. We wonder from what point of view our Treasured Readers read it.
We're all happy about that rare compliment, though!

Blab. A reader wonders if we know who we are. In fact, we don't!
Sure you're not Bill Bryson in disguise?
Is knowing who someone is a prerequisite for being him?

Blab. A reader writes:
Do you have cylindrical hardwood sticks?
Why, yes, we do! Would they help?

Blab. A reader who is unclear on the concept writes:
Before we can begin dancing with our cats, we must first make contact with them.
So if we do not make contact with them in the first place, we are relieved of the responsibility of dancing with them?
Good to know.

Blab. Some time last week ("last week"), before (or during) the various temporal rifts, a reader suggested a game in which making someone's first name possessive results in hilarity. This week ("this week") a reader tries the experiment.
SpongeBob's SquarePants... hey, it works!
We look forward to the results of the clinical trials.

Blab. A similar leftover from the time wars is the ongoing hypothetical battle between various nutters.
OK then, Round 2: NATURE'S HARMONIC SIMULTANEOUS 4-DAY TIME CUBE vs MICHAEL MENKIN'S THOUGHT SCREEN HELMET
Tough one! We'd have to give it to Mike, though. He's got real products, after all.

Blab. Rematch!
More on GOD'S EXTRADIMENSIONAL CUBICNESS, this time showing the Trinity to be simultaneously a point, a line, and a square as seen by Mr. and Mrs. Flat and their friend,Mr. Level.
Also, did you know that two thousand years ago Jesus used a mini version of the Ark of the Covenant in the form of a cube constructed of gold rods to create HIS SECRET HEALING FORMULA, SACRED WATERS? Here's instructions on how you can do the same in your home with inexpensive copper piping (which works as well as gold for conducting spiritual energies).
Lastly, please consider the LIVING COSMIC CUBE, which represents the single most important event in Earth history.
It has 72 Cube Circuits with two entry windows apiece, giving the Cosmic Cube 144 total entry windows (also called circuits,) that are programmed to go to the end of their thoughts and produce "Streak of Light" solutions, such as Completed Circuit 3.7/7.3 which deals with establishing a global Guild of Mastercraftsmen to recover the treasured resources from the old world.
(I think this might have been brought up by the Architect in The Matrix Reloaded, but I nodded off at that point. Note though that matrices also tend to be cubic in higher dimensions.)
Cubes. The geometry of choice for authentic nuttism.
You know, it all seems very compelling to the author. Isn't that interesting?

Blab. A reader agrees.
Farm out! Can you disc it?
Why yes, we can.

Blab. A reader informs us that ...
InsiderTrading would be a good name for a rock band.
Would it? We've never thought ourself very insightful in that regard.

Blab. A reader sends us a blind ...
[link].

Blab. Richard writes:
Steve,
Was just finishing up a proposal for funding and was looking for papers to reference (yes, it’s a virus thing I'm trying to fund) and stumbled across your site again (must be some flashy-thing thing. I find the site. I read the site. I forget about the site, only to discover it again AS IF FOR THE FIRST TIME later. Very scary.) So, thought I would say hi. Hi.
Hope you and Helen are doing well. Life in Florida is good, living on a canal and decimating the fish population of South Florida. Settling in at Florida Institute of Technology; I think I’ve found a job that I'll be happy with until I retire. Smart students, interesting problems, and a nice view from the window… all the components of a good job J
So, just keeping in touch, hope this finds you well. Come visit if you are ever in Florida!
Richard
PS: On your Alien Food Symbols page, did you ever notice the astonishing similarity of the Power Supply symbols to several crop circles? Something is definitely up with that….
(Note to self: Recalibrate orbital mind control lasers.)
We've been worrying about that Power Supply thing ever since receiving this missive. We conclude that our only hope is to destroy all power supplies. Must write quickly - only a few minutes of battery power left.

Blab. Proving that we appeal to a diverse demographic is this reader.
yeah ur whole idea about that alien food symbols things were really funny,i hope you didnt take that seriously.
The aliens have already taken his mind.

Blab. A reader warns us about ...
Pork '4' kids... creepy, floating kids.
Wait till you see Peggy Pork Chop. Terrifying.

Blab. A reader tells us something surprising. To someone.
Somewhat odd. Our current president, unlike the previous two, doesn't use email to communicate (at least according to the Whitehouse's Kids section).
Right. That requires literacy, though, doesn't it?

Blab. A Treasured Reader submits a quiz. We turn it into a Stupid Plurp Contest by not giving you the Official Answers until later. Heck, we're not even going to tell you the theme. This gives you (the attentive reader) a chance to be creative.

Where no one lives on account of the pace, yet 7 million are swinging for space

The rumble of the subway train, the rattle of the taxi

The city's glamour could never spoil the dreams of a boy and girl

the New York Times and the Daily News

I'll make a brand new start of it

We've gotta have the game or we'll die from shame

I'm New York City born and raised

They say I'll take a bus back home....

You move too fast, got to make the morning last

And watch her as she grows in my garden

London Bridge is falling down, boy and girl together

Tell them of how I’m yearning to mingle with that old time crowd

It's the avenue I’m taking you to

is pocket's filled with spending loot

It spells the thrill of first nights

Blab. A reader convinces us that we're not the only odd person in the world. This comes as quite a shock.
A fun activity to represent the ten plagues can be reenacted. Ten days before Passover begins, do something in your home to represent each one of the ten plagues. Here are a few examples. Be creative and make up your own symbols.
In fact, that's out there on the Web somewhere. And it gets worse.

Blab. Worse ...
A group of normal men and women discover that wearing lacy undergarments doesn't actually give them powers, but it does make them feel all shivery and sexy! Unable to effectively fight crime, they instead take pictures of themselves from the neck down with digital cameras and share tips on cold-water washing!
Against all odds, that's out there too. We are dumbfounded.

Blab. Referring to last week, a reader writes:
By the way, your page title this week is notably horrible! Congratulations. Or something.
Such flattery!

Blab. A reader sends season's greetings.

We're using this as our Holiday Card next year.

Blab. In a similarly hohohoish mood, a reader cross-posts this.
From Slashdot:
There is a d20 for sale at Christie's. Titled; "A ROMAN GLASS GAMING DIE", this item dates to circa 2nd Century A.D., and it's likely to go for a mere $6k USD! Just think of the die-hard dice gamer on your list, this festive season! That would make all those late night Cthulhu missions with Lord Nekrull, my 16th level Assassin demi-god, a smashing good time!"
Well lookee there - it really is a d20. Wild!

Blab. A reader suggests ways for us to spend our nonexistent spare time.
So try to stand in line at the General Pickett Buffet in Gettysburg with all sorts of very intense but sincere people in civil war uniforms and accoutrements who have not heard that the war is over....
In our recent sojourn into rural Maryland, we did see quite a number of Confederate flags flying from peoples' homes. Does that count?

Blab. A reader after our own sense of humor writes:
How does the Concorde smell? It's doesn't, it has no nose.
Fabulous. Just fabulous.

Blab. A reader tells the same joke with different words.
My gosh! Jacko looks like Boy George!
Yes. They were separated at birth.

Blab. A reader laments that it was ...
... upstaged by Downsville ...
It's a tough act to follow!

Blab. A reader laments the unlamentable.
What no Sunday picture this week?
Would we deprive you, dear reader, dear addicted reader? Of course not.

Plurp. Last week in Plurp, you were once again looking for things. Naughty readers! Stop that!

helen naked pitures

iris chacon

mia

wolf

akuna matatah

arsenic poisoning pictures

backgrounds

bang to rights

britney

confusing words

Lacuna frittata.

Yo. Tiger Woods is getting married to Elin Nordegren, a Swedish model. We are sure that the attraction is entirely her academic contributions.

Yow.
Perky 'Canada' Has Own Government, Laws

Yow. Darwin in action.
A bullet fired in the air during a Ku Klux Klan initiation ceremony came down and struck a participant in the head, critically injuring him, authorities said.

Plop. This is very sad.
I tried counting the number of people I know who have AIDS or are HIV positive, and I lost count somewhere. [...]
So I'd like to remember those who have died: baby Dylan, and his mother, and Jack, and his partner, and all the others. And I'd like to keep in mind the countless people who live with AIDS and HIV. It is still an issue.
We know several people whom we could add to this tragic list.

Yo. Readers who can find a free video on the Web of the Gates / Ballmer Matrix takeoff from Comdex are required to send us the link.
Required.

Yow. Tetris 1d. Very silly. (everlasting blort)

Yow. The new Harper's Magazine site was designed by (and intensely patterned after (or vice-versa) the wonderful Web site of) Paul Ford.
This is, like, a seriously big deal, ya know?
Yay Paul!
(And we knew him when he was a starving genius!)

Plurp.
Round Three:
The blue dog vs
MICHAEL MENKIN'S THOUGHT SCREEN HELMET

Sunday, November 30, 2003
Plurp.

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