Monday, July 27, 2009

Too Soon Or Too Late?

Just when you thought the whole Michael Jackson thing had settled into a sedate merry-go-round of custody disputes and doctor-manslaughter charges, here comes the "American Historic Society" to offer you two "historic" lithographs to commemorate the King of Pop!

Back in the realm we call reality, they're old posters from 1985, before he become a total freak, someone probably had moldering in a warehouse in Moldava, shilled by the same voiceover guy who does those oh-so-classy Obama plate and 9-11 silver(clad) dollar commercials. The best part is the balding whitey in khaki pants who hangs the posters in his den or living room or whatever with beaming pride. Way to be creepy and squarer than a Scrabble tile, Dad!

The Joy Of Book Ephemera

I have this weird thing where I like to leave the store receipts I've used as bookmarks (waste not, want not!) in the books so that whenever I go back to reread them, I can see just when and where I first purchased them. I also once took an old book that was sitting outside the office of the English department in a box marked "Free" that had an old letter from a textbooks sales rep in it that I got a kick out of. This is all in explanation as to why I find this blog particularly interesting.

(Via Languagehat)


Some of these are also too nerdy even for me, but others? Just right.

(Via io9)

I Think Too Much About Commercials

In the terrifying tradition of the Glade Lady and the Ikea Demoness, the Palm Pre Tranquilizer Girl is the latest spokeswoman to freak me the fuck out. Seriously, she's on Vicodin or something. Either that or she's an android. Whatever she is, her ineffable calm and lack of affect while trippy music play in the background is freaking me out, maaaaaaan! You just know those bucolic scenes behind her is riddled with the graves of those she bludgeoned to death with her sexy new cellphone.

Anyway, why is it the only commercial people who do this to me are always women? Is the advertising industry trying to say that women are evil and/or insane, so you'd better buy this product lest they knock on your door and devour you?

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Tuesday, July 21, 2009


The art of book shelving is as varied and idiosyncratic as the shelver. For me, it's mostly just about where another book will fit, with a little attention towards vaguely grouping by genre and series or author.

(Via Bookninja)

Monday, July 20, 2009

An Acquaintance In Need Is An Acquaintance Indeed!

As much as I love the merry old whore that is the English language, it does have the occasional deficiency. As Cephelogenic points out, there is a very awkward and glaring lack of terminology for those in that nebulous area between the intimacy of "friends" and the stiff formality of "acquaintances."

I would add as a subgroup of that online friends, including many of you, dear readers. There are people that I know only online that I definitely consider true friends, but there are also people I hesitate to presume to put such an intimate label on, but whom "acquaintance," again, just seems so unwieldy. And there definitely needs to be a word for whatever most Facebook "friends" are. "Random people from high school I want to make sure are doing worse than I am" is a bit long.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Naming The Little Guy

I don't have a name for my dick like some guys do. It's just my dick, and, frankly, giving a name to a part of your anatomy is just silly. The other day, though, I came up with an AWESOME one: Rabbi Schlongstein. For circumcised penises only, obviously, but still awesome. And for those of an Anglophilic bent, how about Dick Whittington?

Do you, male readers, have names for your magnificent appendages? What about you, female readers? Do you name the old bazoongas, or even your no-no cavern?

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Welcome To The Table!

A new element for all your geeks who memorized the periodic table for high school chemistry (I didn't, BTW): copernicium! Update your periodic table T-shirts accordingly.

Beach Reads

This list of the best beach reads by NPR is so... NPR. The smooth jazz pretension is coming off in waves.

(Via Bookslut)

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

A Pug And An Irishman Walk Into A Bar...

I would start going to poetry readings if they all included adorable animals. Puggie-wuggy-uggy!

(Via Bookslut)

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Did Battlestar Galactica Have The Worst Ending In Science Fiction History?‏

Yes. And my heart is still in tatters.

What makes it all the more tragic is that, until the last half-hour or so, they could have pulled it off. Then they went to prehistoric Earth and Hera was Mitochondrial Eve and all the Greek parallels turned out to be race memory or some such bullshit and "God did it" but without God turning out to be a big Hybrid or something. *sigh*

Monday, July 13, 2009

Book Display

Thanks to a very, very generous friend, I am the proud owner of a Kindle. Also courtesy of that very, very generous friend, is this Matthew Yglesias blog post that contemplates one of the very important questions of our time: how do you show off your books when they're all in the same slime white electronic device?

It's an interesting point. Book display always has an aesthetic and socioeconomic component: we want them to make our house look pretty, and we want to impress with our taste and erudition. There are people who have decorators simplyt buy books by the foot in attractive colors and appropriate "heft" to fill the shelves of their McMansions and pied a terres. I even once saw a program on BookTV about a big used book broker with a whole sub-business dedicated to these buyers; it's all just color coded, producing an interesting and, yes, pretty visual tableau with row up on row of red and green and white and so on. For a true reader and booklover, however, such things are a secondary, or even tertiary, concern.

I've often wondered what someone coming into my house and perusing my book collection would think, what insights into my character would they glean from the books overtaking every available space, much to the chagrin of my mother. I like to think they'd come away with the impression of a intelligent, eclectic, and, yes, nerdy person that they, of course, want to bone immediately. (Though on that last point, that very, very generous friend pointed out that the whole "living with your parents" thing would cancel the "bone immediately" thing, and, you know, he's right. But I get my laundry done free!) Who knows?

In certain places, at the behest of my mother for the interests of having a presentable house in which to entertain, aesthetics is a primary concern with book placement. Plus, I do like to keep things somewhat organized and neat for simple ease of reference, if nothing else. The books and the pleasure I derive from them are my central focus, though, far and above those of aesthetics or social display.

Anyway, I'm sure, if the Kindle and other ebook readers become more mainstream and push physical books into a niche market for bibliomaniacs such as myself -- which is not a foregone conclusion IMHO -- we'll come up with other ways of trying to impress people with our choices of reading.

It's Not The Werewolves You Should Be Scared Of

Hot amphibian-on-amphibian action by moonlight! How romantic.

I Can Haz Maniplashuns?

Cats are manipulative bastards who learn how to purr to get what they want.

What Might Have Been

Long ago, I mentioned that, in another life, I might have ended up a dermatologist. In another other life, where I wasn't plagued by crippling stage fright for most of my formative years (I'm mostly over it now, though) I might have ended up an actor. I fit the profile: low self-esteem, a constant need for external validation, and homosexuality. I could have been a STAH! Oh well.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Friday, July 10, 2009

But Will It Come With Genuine Warm, Cozy Fat Tissue?

That tauntaun sleeping bag April Fool's joke? Might just be a reality! And just in time for the holidays, too! I know what I'm putting on my Christmas list!

Let's just hope the Wampa that is LucasFilm doesn't fatally maul the whole thing. Don't fuck this up, George Lucas! You owe us!

Size Queen

For you bookworm size queens out there who just can't gain satisfaction from anything but the girthiest, meatiest books: The Longest Novels.

Wednesday, July 08, 2009


Another bundle of red panda joy, this time Scottish twins! Look at how fuzzy they are!

Monday, July 06, 2009

For Once, My Childhood Dreams AREN'T Being Crushed!

Perhaps it was too much Scooby-Doo and Clue when I was a child, but I've always been really into secret passages. One of my silly little dreams was always to have a big house with secret rooms and passages. Now, thanks to the power of Ikea, it turns out that dream isn't so far-fetched! And all without need for a big, spooky mansion! Truly we live in an age of wonders.

(Via Bookninja)

Sunday, July 05, 2009

The Definitive Analysis Of Sarah Palin's Resignation

Something Awful Apologizes for Making Sarah Palin Resign

Skimpy Sunday

(Via Fleshbot [NSFW]; Towleroad [NSFW]; Roids and Rants [NSFW]; Unzipped [NSFW]; Hot House Blog [NSFW])


If we can't digest stuff like corn and peanuts, how do we derive any nutritional benefit from them?

Does anyone actually ever consult their doctor before beginning a diet or exercise program like they always say in small print on commercials for Slim Quick or Weight Watchers or Bowflex or whatever?

Who doesn't want to ride on the disco stick?

Friday, July 03, 2009

"Laugh It Up, Fuzzball!"

Is it just me, or is there something... different about Chewie here? Is George Lucas fiddling with the movies again?!?

Wednesday, July 01, 2009

Weird Products, Nerdy Reviews

Nerd Approved: Bourgeois Nerd approved!

(Via Gizmodo)

Are You Free, Mrs. Slocombe?

Mollie Sugden, best known as the irrepressible Mrs. Slocombe from Are You Being Served? has died. This is a much greater tragedy than friggin' Michael Jackson for me. I've spent many a happy hour over the years with Lady's Intimate Apparel and Men's Readywear, in no small part due to the hilarious antics of Mrs. Slocombe and the bravura comedic performance of her portrayer. May her and her pussy rest in peace in the executive canteen in the sky.

(Via Joe. My. God.)