Word, n. See "lie".
(That's for all the linguists, semanticists, and wordsmiths out there. You know it's true.)
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Never Enough Data, Damn It Department
Straight Ahead - Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Straight Ahead is a webcomic about a high-school boy who is in denial of his homosexuality, haunted by two queer spirits--one faboo drag queen with a pencil mustache, one massively impressive dyke in flannel--who try their hardest against the odds to get their charge to realize who he is and to come out of the closet. But never mind that, there's another story arc right now. The boy's homophobic brother and his pals were caught making insensitive comments by a gay teacher and ordered to write an essay on homosexuality in order to help them see the error of their ways. Hijinks ensue--the school's computer system has nanny-ware that flags the searches on their assigned subject and makes them the subject of classmate attention. As they try to escape they encounter jocks that, mercilessly, destroy the beloved PDA of the geekiest of the trio. Cut off from his constant source of data, he goes through withdrawal, clawing at any information he can.
I laughed. Out loud. It hit way close to home. Anyone who has paid any attention to my online existence knows how much data I'm sucking down. At least it's not as bad as it used to be. That "Get A Life Card" was actually a sticker that I can't scrap off, praise "Bob".
Straight Ahead is a webcomic about a high-school boy who is in denial of his homosexuality, haunted by two queer spirits--one faboo drag queen with a pencil mustache, one massively impressive dyke in flannel--who try their hardest against the odds to get their charge to realize who he is and to come out of the closet. But never mind that, there's another story arc right now. The boy's homophobic brother and his pals were caught making insensitive comments by a gay teacher and ordered to write an essay on homosexuality in order to help them see the error of their ways. Hijinks ensue--the school's computer system has nanny-ware that flags the searches on their assigned subject and makes them the subject of classmate attention. As they try to escape they encounter jocks that, mercilessly, destroy the beloved PDA of the geekiest of the trio. Cut off from his constant source of data, he goes through withdrawal, clawing at any information he can.
I laughed. Out loud. It hit way close to home. Anyone who has paid any attention to my online existence knows how much data I'm sucking down. At least it's not as bad as it used to be. That "Get A Life Card" was actually a sticker that I can't scrap off, praise "Bob".
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Never Enough Awesome Free CDs Department
My Own Wolf: A New Approach
A Russian record label had released a tribute album to the Norwegian eclectics known as Ulver--you know, the band that released a Trilogie of primal, classic black metal with Norwegian folk sprinked, slathered, and sandwiched throughout--only to abandon the metal aesthetic and begin rapidly exploring what electronics could do. They're no less atmospheric--if anything, the desire to create atmosphere, a hallmark of black metal, educates all their experiments. And yet, it can be quite accessible, even tuneful. They can layer minimalistic drones until the sounds breathe on their own, or they can go into complete glitch overload, overwhelming your capacity to make sense of it with ahuman fury.
And it is not as if they completely abandoned metal--Ulver mastermind Garm (AKA Trikster G, AKA Kristoffer Rygg) continued to sing in Arcturus until fairly recently; one of the tracks off Blood Inside bordered close to metal at moments; and the most recent, low-key album Shadows Of The Sun, featured a cover of Black Sabbath's "Solitude". But they are no more bound to metal's conventions than they would be to, say, religious ones. (While I have never seen any indication that Ulver recanted their earlier statements of Satanic belief, if you look at the works in which they are interested, a pattern of gnostic searching does arise. Never mind the song called "Gnosis", there's the whole of Themes From William Blake's The Marriage Of Heaven And Hell--which is so gnostic it makes the pineal gland hurt with joy. And "Christmas", off Blood Inside, is practically a gnostic hymn.)
Anyhow, I recommend using the SendSpace links, unless you pay for RapidShare, or you have an eMule client.
A Russian record label had released a tribute album to the Norwegian eclectics known as Ulver--you know, the band that released a Trilogie of primal, classic black metal with Norwegian folk sprinked, slathered, and sandwiched throughout--only to abandon the metal aesthetic and begin rapidly exploring what electronics could do. They're no less atmospheric--if anything, the desire to create atmosphere, a hallmark of black metal, educates all their experiments. And yet, it can be quite accessible, even tuneful. They can layer minimalistic drones until the sounds breathe on their own, or they can go into complete glitch overload, overwhelming your capacity to make sense of it with ahuman fury.
And it is not as if they completely abandoned metal--Ulver mastermind Garm (AKA Trikster G, AKA Kristoffer Rygg) continued to sing in Arcturus until fairly recently; one of the tracks off Blood Inside bordered close to metal at moments; and the most recent, low-key album Shadows Of The Sun, featured a cover of Black Sabbath's "Solitude". But they are no more bound to metal's conventions than they would be to, say, religious ones. (While I have never seen any indication that Ulver recanted their earlier statements of Satanic belief, if you look at the works in which they are interested, a pattern of gnostic searching does arise. Never mind the song called "Gnosis", there's the whole of Themes From William Blake's The Marriage Of Heaven And Hell--which is so gnostic it makes the pineal gland hurt with joy. And "Christmas", off Blood Inside, is practically a gnostic hymn.)
Anyhow, I recommend using the SendSpace links, unless you pay for RapidShare, or you have an eMule client.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Never Enough Bad Transcripts Department
Never mind that Joe Lieberman is sticking up for John “Nuke Israel Until Jesus Glows” Hagee.
“Eesh Elo Kim”!? I presume that Lieberman meant “Ish Elohim”, whose “h” is pronounced like the ch sound in “Loch” or “Bach”, and so to those unfamiliar with the Semitic languages, might sound like it should be transliterated as a “K”. Think (C)Hanukkah.
So the person handling the transcripts for Joe Lieberman—a Conservative Jew, we are led to believe—is not in the slightest interested in how to portray Lieberman’s religion correctly? They’re willing to let Joe sound, well, dumb?
OK, between this and the website fiasco during the 2006 election,I'm convinced that we should be very thankful Lieberman was never VP.
“Eesh Elo Kim”!? I presume that Lieberman meant “Ish Elohim”, whose “h” is pronounced like the ch sound in “Loch” or “Bach”, and so to those unfamiliar with the Semitic languages, might sound like it should be transliterated as a “K”. Think (C)Hanukkah.
So the person handling the transcripts for Joe Lieberman—a Conservative Jew, we are led to believe—is not in the slightest interested in how to portray Lieberman’s religion correctly? They’re willing to let Joe sound, well, dumb?
OK, between this and the website fiasco during the 2006 election,I'm convinced that we should be very thankful Lieberman was never VP.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Never Enough Scary Thoughts Department
"The Change You Deserve."
What scares me the most about the House Republicans using this campaign theme is that I have an idea what they think we deserve.
And it's not what we think we deserve, either.
(Shuddering h/t to mcjoan)
What scares me the most about the House Republicans using this campaign theme is that I have an idea what they think we deserve.
And it's not what we think we deserve, either.
(Shuddering h/t to mcjoan)
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Never Enough Devival Reports Department
Scalpod's devival report is now available at The Society of Heretically Hermetic Hermits
Rev. Judas will be so pleased to remember his ginger Viking mustache was appreciated.
Rev. Judas will be so pleased to remember his ginger Viking mustache was appreciated.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Never Enough Craven Desires Department
Quickpost this image to Myspace, Digg, Facebook, and others!I can't even afford a print of it yet. I doubt I'll be able to buy the original off the current owner so easily either.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Never Enough Devival Triumphs Department
Just in case you missed it--YOU REALLY MISSED IT.
Evidence and other fun bits archived at http://finaldevival.com/
Evidence and other fun bits archived at http://finaldevival.com/
Never Enough Ha-Ha-Only-Serious Stories Department
Separation
[N.B.: While this is a funny story, the core it discusses is very real and is described in brief at the end. If you consider yourself a friend of Cynthia and/or myself, please read. Given Cyn's uber-mama tendencies, our friends are kinda like our children....]
Kids, your mother and I have to talk to you--about us.
Now, your mother and I love each and every one of you, and that is not going to change, not now, not ever. But, you might have noticed the burning pile of tires on my end of the sofa two weeks ago, or that your mother found dead puppies in her shoes when she was getting ready for work. In my defense, they were stillborn, so it's not like I did anything that bad, but...
I'm sorry--go run to the potty, let your stomach settle, and then we'll continue.
Feeling better? OK, good. That's our first concern here. Ahem....
Mom and I had a talk, and we decided we still love each other, that we even like each other, and that we'd be willing and eager to date each other. But living together? That'd HURT.
We have decided we would have split custody of each of you, but that I'd find my own place for a while. We're not ruling out future co-habitation, but neither burning tires nor dog fetuses are signs of a healthy relationship, let's be honest.
Earlier today, your mother said that she liked me better when I was just a handle on an online chat room and an unusually flattering picture on my blog. I was hurt a bit, but then realized her point, and realized I liked her better when she was like that, too! See, we still have something in common! In fact, we spent a half-hour talking about our favorite chatroom logs, including the one that led to the conception of you, little Bubba Ghee.
Then we talked about Atlanta--how much we hated that city together, even while we had such a romantic and charmed time there, and realized we loved to go out together, hang out, cut up, snuggle and such, even still.
We even talked about how we've grown together, and have made a lot of progress on rescuing one another from our own screwed-up upbringings, things we've been careful not to repeat while raising you all, so that you become mature adults who are screwed up in your own unique way.
But let's face it, when your mother gets mad, she becomes a Level 27 cacodaimon from... um... what's that game you like? Pokemon? Still!? OK, never mind. All right, remember when I told you a couple months ago to stop calling your mother "T-Rex" because it wasn't nice? Well, it still was not a nice thing to say, but I myself was thinking she was like Godzilla--bigger, and able to spit electric fire at anything in her path.
And me? I'm a loner that hates being lonely. If I could, I'd be holed away and spending most of my waking hours making weird music that only a few dozen people might hear, and creating bizarre art that confounds the viewer, and writing twisted stories based on the actual truth so that people can be told the truth and laugh rather than cry or get angry. But that's been really hard to do. And, let's face it, my mood swings, panic attacks, depressions, manias, and frothing fits have not been good for anyone in this family to deal with, even after the "Bob" Pils.
So it sounds like it'd actually work better for us if your mother is allowed to work on her anger issues without my needs for either seclusion or affection, or my inability to keep an emotional state for five minutes, making her angrier; and, if I can work on being less of a loner and get my mood more stable. I think we might be looking into a bulk-rate therapist, too.
Also, I found out the "Bob" Pils were really "O"-Pils, so I'm taking extra "B"-Pils to balance things out. That's how I was able to run a devival and not have a total freak-out.
And you know something? That devival showed your mother that I'm capable of doing something without her assistance, or even necessarily her approval. I had to assure her that I could do it without spending rent or food money on it, and that she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to do. And I did it. She was really worried I was becoming too dependent on her--me too, actually--but this proved to us both that I can do things without leaning on her. And that's a good thing.
So do not worry about us. We love each other still and actually just returned from a date with a new favorite dish we share, and we'll probably be a lot friendlier to each other from now on. And, children, please--I know that some of you might have issues with me, or issues with her, and might want to talk about them since this issue came up. Please, talk to the one with whom you have the issue, and work it out with them. We're not having any trash-talking of each other. And if you insist on acting like a brat, we'll bend you over our knees and give you a spanking just like when you were three and demanded we buy you the pink Power Ranger.
We love you.
PS: No, really, this is "Ha, ha, only serious," as they say. Yes, Cyn and I will be legally separating. Yes, we are still on good terms--better, actually, now that we've decided to do this--and so it should not surprise you if we're seen together and having fun. And, very seriously, if you got beef with me, talk to me--and if your beef is with her, take it up with her, but do not bother trying to trash-talk one of us with the other. This separation is not your opening to try to wedge us while venting your own spleen, and neither of us will brook it.
PPS: When Cyn read this, she was laughing her head off, just in case you're wondering if it was OK to laugh.
PPPS: Anyone interested in a roommate? I'm pretty good about sweeping, mopping, handling the recycling, and loading dishwashers. MUST HAVE DISHWASHER.
PPPPS: Looks like, since I wrote this, I have found an apartment, in the basement above a lesbian bar. Cyn and I are going to have some fun dates.
[N.B.: While this is a funny story, the core it discusses is very real and is described in brief at the end. If you consider yourself a friend of Cynthia and/or myself, please read. Given Cyn's uber-mama tendencies, our friends are kinda like our children....]
Kids, your mother and I have to talk to you--about us.
Now, your mother and I love each and every one of you, and that is not going to change, not now, not ever. But, you might have noticed the burning pile of tires on my end of the sofa two weeks ago, or that your mother found dead puppies in her shoes when she was getting ready for work. In my defense, they were stillborn, so it's not like I did anything that bad, but...
I'm sorry--go run to the potty, let your stomach settle, and then we'll continue.
Feeling better? OK, good. That's our first concern here. Ahem....
Mom and I had a talk, and we decided we still love each other, that we even like each other, and that we'd be willing and eager to date each other. But living together? That'd HURT.
We have decided we would have split custody of each of you, but that I'd find my own place for a while. We're not ruling out future co-habitation, but neither burning tires nor dog fetuses are signs of a healthy relationship, let's be honest.
Earlier today, your mother said that she liked me better when I was just a handle on an online chat room and an unusually flattering picture on my blog. I was hurt a bit, but then realized her point, and realized I liked her better when she was like that, too! See, we still have something in common! In fact, we spent a half-hour talking about our favorite chatroom logs, including the one that led to the conception of you, little Bubba Ghee.
Then we talked about Atlanta--how much we hated that city together, even while we had such a romantic and charmed time there, and realized we loved to go out together, hang out, cut up, snuggle and such, even still.
We even talked about how we've grown together, and have made a lot of progress on rescuing one another from our own screwed-up upbringings, things we've been careful not to repeat while raising you all, so that you become mature adults who are screwed up in your own unique way.
But let's face it, when your mother gets mad, she becomes a Level 27 cacodaimon from... um... what's that game you like? Pokemon? Still!? OK, never mind. All right, remember when I told you a couple months ago to stop calling your mother "T-Rex" because it wasn't nice? Well, it still was not a nice thing to say, but I myself was thinking she was like Godzilla--bigger, and able to spit electric fire at anything in her path.
And me? I'm a loner that hates being lonely. If I could, I'd be holed away and spending most of my waking hours making weird music that only a few dozen people might hear, and creating bizarre art that confounds the viewer, and writing twisted stories based on the actual truth so that people can be told the truth and laugh rather than cry or get angry. But that's been really hard to do. And, let's face it, my mood swings, panic attacks, depressions, manias, and frothing fits have not been good for anyone in this family to deal with, even after the "Bob" Pils.
So it sounds like it'd actually work better for us if your mother is allowed to work on her anger issues without my needs for either seclusion or affection, or my inability to keep an emotional state for five minutes, making her angrier; and, if I can work on being less of a loner and get my mood more stable. I think we might be looking into a bulk-rate therapist, too.
Also, I found out the "Bob" Pils were really "O"-Pils, so I'm taking extra "B"-Pils to balance things out. That's how I was able to run a devival and not have a total freak-out.
And you know something? That devival showed your mother that I'm capable of doing something without her assistance, or even necessarily her approval. I had to assure her that I could do it without spending rent or food money on it, and that she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to do. And I did it. She was really worried I was becoming too dependent on her--me too, actually--but this proved to us both that I can do things without leaning on her. And that's a good thing.
So do not worry about us. We love each other still and actually just returned from a date with a new favorite dish we share, and we'll probably be a lot friendlier to each other from now on. And, children, please--I know that some of you might have issues with me, or issues with her, and might want to talk about them since this issue came up. Please, talk to the one with whom you have the issue, and work it out with them. We're not having any trash-talking of each other. And if you insist on acting like a brat, we'll bend you over our knees and give you a spanking just like when you were three and demanded we buy you the pink Power Ranger.
We love you.
PS: No, really, this is "Ha, ha, only serious," as they say. Yes, Cyn and I will be legally separating. Yes, we are still on good terms--better, actually, now that we've decided to do this--and so it should not surprise you if we're seen together and having fun. And, very seriously, if you got beef with me, talk to me--and if your beef is with her, take it up with her, but do not bother trying to trash-talk one of us with the other. This separation is not your opening to try to wedge us while venting your own spleen, and neither of us will brook it.
PPS: When Cyn read this, she was laughing her head off, just in case you're wondering if it was OK to laugh.
PPPS: Anyone interested in a roommate? I'm pretty good about sweeping, mopping, handling the recycling, and loading dishwashers. MUST HAVE DISHWASHER.
PPPPS: Looks like, since I wrote this, I have found an apartment, in the basement above a lesbian bar. Cyn and I are going to have some fun dates.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Never Enough Seattle Devivals Department
http://finaldevival.cjb.net/
It's happening. And you can't stop it. BWAH.
It's happening. And you can't stop it. BWAH.
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
Never Enough Moving Days Department
Today's the day that I move--the second time since I started this blog. Considering that I must officially declare the past month to be the worst holiday season EVAR (in my experience) I am actually rather relieved, and yet incredibly stressed out at the same time. Much has been packed, but there's always a few last-minute things to rush through, such as taking down this computer and packing food and utensils I've been using. Nothing major, really. Plus, I will have next weekend for moving any remaining bits that might be left behind today.
As promised, here is the link to Cyn's MySpace page so you may read her travelogue blog. (Travelblog?) It was a very, very crazy trip, from all accounts.
OK, it's time to get another megadose of B12 etc. and get busy. My Internet will be down for a few days and I'll probably have a new ISP by the end of all this, but I'll post updates if at all possible as soon as I can.
As promised, here is the link to Cyn's MySpace page so you may read her travelogue blog. (Travelblog?) It was a very, very crazy trip, from all accounts.
OK, it's time to get another megadose of B12 etc. and get busy. My Internet will be down for a few days and I'll probably have a new ISP by the end of all this, but I'll post updates if at all possible as soon as I can.
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