Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Category Archives: such as it is
Time-eater #1
Human Brain Cloud, a repository of word associations world-wide, but the word association part isn’t all that interesting. If you want to have fun, click on “view” and type in a provocative word. “George Bush” yields “braindead,” “miserable failure,” “idiot,” “is an idiot,” “warlord,” “impeachment,” “is an asshole,” and more.
Live blogging tonight. I have to feed my family first.
D.
Sick
. . . but funny.
A True Stick Deathand, yeah, I’m not feeling all that well this evening. Not sleeping well, the usual story.
Don’t count on me for live blogging tonight. Tomorrow, perhaps.
D.
PS: My favorite Stick Death: Act of God.
Too short to be taken seriously
Tonight, Indecision 2008 features their Candidate Casting Couch: The Simpsons, wherein their writers have decided who among the Simpsons’ cast best matches the 2008 Presidential candidates. For example,
Dennis Kucinich = Lisa Simpson
Good message, always on point, vegetarian, too short to be taken seriously
Funny post, lots funnier than this one will be. You see, I am not in a humorous mood; I have more serious matters in mind. I’m provoked by curious about that phrase, “too short to be taken seriously.” Trouble is, I suspect they’re right. Think about it. Over the ages, how many ultrashort men have been taken seriously?
Well, this guy, for one — the original Napoleon Dynamite:
And, in recent history, former Secretary of Labor Robert Reich,
Sweet Jeebus, aren’t there any more important tall people? Well, there’s always this guy —
Michelle Duggar must have popped
Number 17, no? Or is it 18? After three, they all start blending together, don’t you think?
Welcome to all of you ‘net surfers hungry for Duggar snark. You’ll find plenty here, provided you use that little search tool — oh, here, let me do it for you.
Everything I’ve ever written about the Duggars.
I recommend that you scroll back to the earliest Duggar post and read them in chronological order. I ran out of interesting things to say about the Duggars, oh, about twelve posts ago. Professor Snape had some useful insights, but that got old after a while, too.
As for Ms. Anonymous who commented,
We all need to recognize the beauty being able to run our families however we choose to. Remember: Judge not lest you be judged !
I know, I know. Right now, I’m trying so hard not to judge that first sentence of yours.
D.
Michelle DuggarMatch game
Live blogging tonight. Usual time, usual place.
The first thing that strikes me about eHarmony.com‘s questionnaire: this mother-effer is LONG. I’ve been at this ten minutes, and I’m only 37% complete? After my age, height, weight, and income, what else do you need to know?
Let me back up a sec. No, I’m not getting divorced or separated. eHarmony advertises they’ll let you view your matches without a fee, so I’m curious to see who THEY think I would like. Besides, I figured this would be an easy post.
Hmm. “Imagine that your friends had to choose the best FOUR descriptions of you from the items listed below.” I can only choose four. Intelligent, articulate, funny, but what about number four?
I know — modest! Next page.
Open thread
What the hell. Why not? It works on the Big Boys and Girls’ blogs.
Step on up to the virtual sushi bar and help yourselves.
D.
Of an age
A few evenings ago, I called an old friend* whom I have not spoken to since 9th grade. I changed high schools in 10th grade, and quickly drifted away from my old gang.
Right from the start, we were both struck by the fact we hadn’t spoken to one another since before puberty. In other words, we remembered one another’s pre-pubertal voices, so our adult voices sounded recognizable but eerily different.
The other remarkable thing: both of us have gone through several major upheavals, and yet we’re both the same people we were at age 14. I guess that shouldn’t surprise me. As I think you all know by now, I’ve kept in touch with gf v1.0, and she’s very much the same person I first met at 15.
I remember when I met up with her again after a long absence (it took me a few years to get over the breakup). We sat together at her sister’s wedding, me by myself, she with her husband, a friend of mine from high school. Some days later, her sister told me, “They were a little worried you’d be different. Arrogant, maybe, because of med school and all of that. But they said you were the same old Doug.”
But she has changed, of course, and so have I, and so has my pal from 9th grade; as with our voices, we’re recognizable, but eerily different. We take on new abilities, new likes and dislikes, and we shed some of our old needs and tendencies. It’s like changing clothes, I suppose. The flesh remains the same, while the outer trappings come and go.
My friend wondered if this was a middle-aged thing, this desire to get back in touch with our old mates. We’re of an age now when death doesn’t seem all that improbable. We can’t take each other for granted anymore — not that we ever could, but it becomes more undeniable with each passing year.
I wonder if there is something almost literary about it. Is it the desire to leave no loose ends behind, leave nothing unsaid? Is it a repugnance for red herrings, or merely the desire to make sense out of something (a life) not obliged to make sense?
This year is the 50th anniversary of Hugh Everett’s “many worlds” interpretation of quantum mechanics — an idea with which most SF readers have more than passing familiarity. As I get older, Everett’s ideas give me more and more satisfaction, the same sort of comfort I imagine many folks get from religion. I get older, my options flicker off like the evening lights of a metropolitan skyline, but there are worlds out there where I have explored other avenues, taken different paths. I may not be able to go back and do things differently, but I don’t have to; some of me are already living those lives. I wonder how I’m doing.
D.
*This dude, who claims he’s not ready for high traffic yet — so go visit him and it’ll really piss him off!
A quickie photo quiz
I want to share a few cool photos with you this evening. This first one is extremely cool, in fact.
1. This swimmer’s . . .
Originally uploaded by PRI’s The World.
A) erect nipples would cut glass.
B) testicles won’t descend until he obtains a notarized statement promising never, ever to do this again.
C) new best friend is a polar bear.
D) all of the above.
I’m back. I know it in my bones.
And that’s the other thing. I can’t even think like a photographer. Who’s going to want to look at blurry birds? Not me.
First day back at work, I spent seven hours in the OR, two in the office (catching up on charts), and three in the Committee Meeting From Hell. I made it back from the hospital at 9:30 PM. Teh Sux0r indeed.
Back to the nature photograph. I shot this with a camera that had a lens and shit, and you know, there was lighting, too. Natural lighting. And there were these birds, the famous Yellow Finch of the North and the Red Pseudo-Finch of the Northwest, known for their mellifluous song and their ability to out-compete Bald Eagles for sunflower seeds . . .
I truly suck at this.
Fact: those birds hang out on the deck outside sxKitten‘s parents’ cabin.
Fact: said cabin is truly one of the most peaceful places on Earth. I mean, check this out:
There’s a bay in the background. Trust me on that. A bay, a gentle breeze, wildflowers, skinny-dippers, a fat orange cat who likes to kill sparrows, a pair of Bald Eagles, and plenty of wine in the fridge.
Right now, bone tired and itching (literally) for a hot shower, careworn over the work-grief I know awaits me in the days ahead, all I’m sure of is one thing:
I never should have left that cabin. SxKitten’s parents could keep me around as chief cook and bottle-washer. Waddya say, SxK?
D.
Old timer
Yes, we’re back in the land of Net access — Seattle. For some odd reason, my Blackberry would not work north of the border. Very weird and not a little annoying.
Check out Dean’s blog. Go now. Look at the lovely bstiya. Mmmmmm bstiya. B’stila. Whatever.
I want to tell you about this creepy exhibit at the Vancouver Science World museum. I wrote my friend about it this morning, and I hate hate HATE typing with my thumbs, so I’m going to cut and paste from the letter. I think she avoids my blog like the plague, so I’m probably safe. If not — sorry! At least I told you first!
Here goes: