Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Monthly Archives: February 2007
Okay, folks, I’m tired of messing around.
I want to see Kris Starr’s athletic, toned ass. NOW. Go donate money to a highly worthy cause — only $21.50 to go, dammit. And now that I’ve pimped this contest twice, I’m expecting front AND rear views, thank you very much.
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What kind of evolutionist am I? A piss poor one, evidently. I missed Charles Darwin’s birthday yesterday, but thankfully, Blue Gal didn’t. She’s supporting the First Freedom First petition and I am, too, so get your hineys (toned or otherwise) over there and sign. (KEY POINT, vis a vis Darwin: “Public schools should teach with academic integrity and without the promotion of religious preference or belief.”)
But if that’s too high brow for you, go spend some time at the Darwin Awards page. Or not, because if you do, you might ruin my surprise for Valentine’s Day.
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And don’t fret about the Thursday Thirteen. I’ve got that covered.
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And, oh, if y’all aren’t Corn Dog readers yet, what’s the matter with you? Great story here, and don’t skip the comments.
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That’s it for now. In the comments, open mike for self-pimpage. Write anything primo recently? Let everyone know.
D.
Alien landscape
Ever since college, and perhaps even longer than that, I’ve had a recurring dream of a rocky area set aside for hikers. Once, and only once — I was in med school at the time — I explored far enough that I found a cave. Something of great importance was in the cave but I never found out what it was. I’ve been trying to make it back ever since.
Back here in the real world, I think this is why I love places like Red Rock Canyon (near Las Vegas) and Vasquez Rocks (in So. Cal.)Â Both places inspire the same feeling in me: the expectation that just around the corner, I’ll see the rocks of my dreams, and perhaps also the cave.
The older I become, the farther I get from that landscape. Last night, I tried making it up there on my ten-speed; but it was winter, and folks were telling me how treacherous the hiking had become, what with all the snow and sleet. I never even got a glimpse.
From childhood, I recall other places of power. A desolate road, a hidden beach. Walk a little farther and I knew I would find myself in another world, one that obeyed different rules. Back then, the idea of escape to another world fascinated me, asleep or awake. But with age comes contentedness, and maybe that’s why those other worlds have slipped away; I don’t need them now. I don’t even need the promise they hold.
They’re always to the northwest, these regions. Go figure.
D.
SBD: Jackie Kessler, author of Hell’s Belles
As promised, I have something — someone — special here for Smart Bitches Day: Jackie Kessler, author of Hell’s Belles. Look at her. Oy, so cute.
Flickr Follies for the evening, and a review
Sunday caught me between two hefty posts — Saturday’s story, and tomorrow’s interview with Jackie Kessler. Since I’m too anal retentive to let a day go by without a post, here’s a Flickr image for your contemplation. From Ga Music Maker’s photo stream:
But if you simply MUST read some stuff by yours truly, here’s my review of Interzone #208. That’s what I’ve been working on for the last two weekends. Enjoy.
D.
‘Twas a dark and stormy night.
The 2006 Bulwer-Lytton Contest winners have been announced. Here’s the runner-up for the Romance category:
Sex with Rachel after she turned fifty was like driving the last-place team on the last day of the Iditarod Dog Sled Race, the point no longer the ride but the finish, the difficulty not the speed but keeping all the parts moving in the right direction, not to mention all that irritating barking.
Dan Winters
Los Altos Hills, CA
You want to read the first place winner? You’ll just have to go see for yourself!
Hat tip to Bill in Portland Maine, at Daily Kos.
D.
The Starr Tukhas Challenge!
If you want to see Kris
look like this
then you need to enter Dean Cochrane’s Nearly Naked Challenge. All it takes is some of your cold, hard cash, people, and Kris will strut her bikini-clad stuff!
(Kris, how much extra for the purple dye job?)
D.
PS: Blogflux Pinger won’t ping for me anymore! I think it has something to do with my sexual content. Anyone know another pinging service I can use — one that is, perhaps, less discriminating?
Thirteen scenes from Gross Anatomy
Nothing says “medical school” like Gross Anatomy. Think about it: anyone can study microbiology, histology, or pathology. But how many people get to cut up dead bodies? How many people would want to?
Maybe in the future, cadaver dissection will be replaced by in computero practical exercises, but I doubt it. A big part of training is learning to violate taboos — getting close to people, asking them the most intimate of questions, touching them in ways even their spouses wouldn’t touch them, and hurting them. None of this comes naturally; all of it must be learned. Or, rather, unlearned. It’s all about breaking down internal barriers.
And that’s why Gross Anatomy will always play a role in medical education.
Follow me below the fold for thirteen memories. Sorry, no more pictures on this one; I doubt I would find anything palatable for mass consumption.
Why I do it
Because it feels good?
No. Too simple, and if I stopped there I would have this big fat black-and-white photo and several column inches of open space (what is that called, anyway? A gravestone?)
The generic question is, Why do we blog? Today, Blue Gal wades into a mud pit created by Chris Bowers’ recent comments that the days of the solo pundit blogger are over. (Nyah! Take that, Glenn Greenwald!) BG skewers Bowers’ puffery with typical panache:
“There are artists, there are artists who somehow make a living doing their art (sorry, I can’t imagine John Amato writing that “Chris Bowers knows blog success!” business model bullshit), and there are sell-out wankers who want to color themselves important by channeling some Tony Robbins success seminar. I’m too busy doing my thang, and enjoying the writing and work of some very gifted individual bloggers, to worry about which category the big boys fall into.”
I’m not a big boy. I’ll never be a big boy. Whenever my hit counter makes me a wee bit feverish, I check my referrals to remind myself that 95% of my hits comes from guys searching for a semi-nude Christina Aguilera, cameltoes, or butt cracks. But as I hope you all know, I’m not blogging for those folks.
Lisa Nowak: a medical hypothesis
The television talking heads are trying their best to figure out Lisa Nowak, the diaper-wearing stalker/astronaut, but to my knowledge, no one has suggested the possibility of a medical explanation for her breakdown. The possibilities are endless — tumor, heavy metal intoxication, adverse drug reaction. Lots of things can tweak the mind. But here’s one idea.
This is the “butterfly rash” of systemic lupus erythematosus:
Older photos of Ms. Nowak show no rash:
But recent images of Ms. Nowak, particularly her mug shot, suggest a classic malar “butterfly rash”. Here’s another suggestive photo:
If Ms. Nowak has lupus, it raises the possibility of lupus cerebritis. Among the potential neuropsychiatric manifestations:
Mood disorders such as anxiety and depression are frequently reported.
Cognitive disorders may be variably apparent in patients with SLE. Formal neuropsychiatric testing reveals deficits in 21-67% of patients with SLE. Whether this represents true encephalopathy, neurological damage, medication effects, depression, or some other process is unclear.
Psychosis related to SLE may manifest as paranoia or hallucinations.
All I’m saying is there may be more to this story than a love triangle gone bad. When family, friends, and coworkers react the same way, remarking how vastly out of character her recent behavior has been, you have to entertain the medical hypothesis. News organizations are talking to PSYCHOLOGISTS, for heaven’s sake — no MDs.
Stay tuned.
D.
PS: In other news, The Aristocrats has the inside scoop on how the medical community healed Ted Haggard of his gayness.