My recycled tweets for 2010-03-29
Mon, 29 Mar 2010 07:59:00 +0000- The cheap-o carnival midway I went to today was awarding silverfish instead of goldfish. #
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Since everyone was so so so awesome with the last music survey, I thought I’d press my luck. Two survey questions:
1) What’s your dream rock band lineup? I suppose, “with a reasonable amount of people”, “who you expect would work well together”, and (ideally) “are still alive”.
2) Three favorite Beatles songs?
I won’t hide my answers until people reply this time. Answers inside.
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I’ve gotten awfully flaky about these. Sorry about that.
The family in this song will have to wait four years for health insurance, while an effort without power politics would have gotten them coverage sooner. Just sayin’.
Unemployable
He’s got a big gold ring which says “Jesus Saves”
And it’s dented from the punch thrown at work that day
When he smashed the metal locker where he kept his things
After the big boss said “You best be on your way”So this life is sacrifice
Jumping trains just to surviveWell, his wife and kids asleep but he’s still awake
And his brain weighs the curse of thirty bills unpaid
Gets up, lights a cigarette he’s grown to hate
Thinking if he can’t sleep, how will he ever dream again?So this life is sacrificed
To a stranger’s bottom lineI’ve seen the light
I’m scared alive
Nearly deadI’ve seen the light
Still aliveSo this life is sacrificed
Was a dream that had to dieI’ve seen the light
I’m scared alive
Near to deathI’ve seen the light
Scared alive
I’m here to die
Here to dieScared alive
Here to die
Here to die
Scared of life
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Excerpt from “Dear Texas: Please shut up. Sincerely, History” by Mark Morford:
Hey, kids! Here’s something I bet you didn’t know: Black people? Back in 1800 or whenever? They liked being slaves. True! Many savvy, industrious Negroes actually volunteered for that fine, desirable position. It was a completely balanced, fair, hugely successful system, until those damn liberals came along and ruined everything. I know, right? What a shame.
Do you know what else? America was wholly victorious in Vietnam. It’s a fact! Kicked some serious enemy butt! Mission accomplished! Sure it was a little bumpy for awhile, but President Nixon, that great and wronged American hero, put us on the righteous path in the end, wrapped that sucker up beautifully and made America the noble Superman to the world. Hey, it’s the truth! You can look it up in your history textbook!
Of course the venom is justified. But the best use of sympathetic venom is not to curl up and let it take hold but to stand up and find the antidote.
This is not the first time the issue has crossed the mcgees.org desk. It did 8 years ago as Texas Textbook Bonfire. But don’t just get pissed. Get moving. Write letters. Better yet, donate to almost anyone in the “Sleeve” section of the mcgees.org sidebar.
Get moving, people. Work now, snark later.
I’m trying to get this published:
A hellish blight destroys the land. A dude from Maine recovering from drug addiction, his much younger psychic paramour, a retarded guy, and a preternaturally wise (but overly-sexualized) 11-year-old boy — all of whom smoke like chimneys — go on a road trip to combat it.
Along the way they discover a roving band of cannibals, identifiable because they have filed teeth. The cannibals attack them with vicious homophobic slurs that are OK because obviously Stephen King does not agree with them. The wise boy knows it’s no good, but the retarded guy battles valiantly, killing all but the biggest cannibal, dying in the process.
The ghost of some woman the dude from Maine read a lot about appears. So does the ghost of his ex-wife. They begin to battle. In the process they wound the big cannibal.
The cannibal’s guts rupture, and out pour a bucketful of lobsters. The lobsters fall upon the dude from Maine, severing some body parts. His paramour screams. Then the lobsters all burst open and broods of spiders pour out.
But the wise 11-year-old has been pondering, and his cherished book, which contains Edgar Allen Poe in-jokes, holds the secret to defeat the evil ghost. The trick is for the good ghost and the boy to drown her. She drowns graphically.
The world, in the meantime, has largely recovered, most of the evildoers having died. The dude from Maine and his younger love get married and go to start a family. The boy, who has formed a weird father relationship with the Maine dude, stays anyway to think about his fate, evoking one last goodbye from the good ghost, who fades with a whisper.
(So, what did I forget? The rule is that every trope has to have occurred at least twice in the canon.)
Until recently, my maternal grandfather raised chickens. Niall loved collecting the eggs when we visited. He would go from nest to nest to gather them, and put them in a basket.
Walking back to the house, he stumbled and barely recovered. My mouth was open to say “maybe we shouldn’t put all the eggs in one basket”, and then thought Oh. Huh. That’s where that comes from.
Awake since ten minutes before the earthquake. Suggestive, yes? Likely random.
Listening to iPod shuffle. The Doors, The Mountain Goats, Candlebox, They Might Be Giants, Flowing Tears, and Ace of Base have shown up. And rocking the (legal) hallucinogens. Good times. Maybe back to sleep. After I net the faeries for future pressing.
Let’s see how well my HTML renders sleep-deprived and spacey.
Niall story. Nonna (my mom) asked Niall to read her the cornbread recipe aloud:
“One pee kay gee Jiffy corn muffin mix. One egg. One slash three cup milk. Preheat oven to four hundred little circle high up.”
Niall story:
Niall: What nut did you tell me you were allergic to, Daddy?
Joshua: I’m not allergic to nuts.
Niall: Which one did you tell me?
Joshua: I’m not allergic to any nuts, Niall. Why would I tell you I was allergic to nuts if I’m not?
Niall: It was walnuts, right?
Joshua: No. You’re thinking of someone else.
Niall: Oh, that’s right! Cashews!
Joshua: Niall, it’s wasn’t me.
Niall: I’m pretty sure it was. You told me you were allergic to walnuts.
Joshua: People can be sure and wrong, Niall.
Niall: [thinks]
Joshua: Did you know that? That someone can be sure and wrong?
Niall: Yes. [pause] I’ll tell you what we’re going to do. We’re going to have a nut-eating contest. It’s like a pie-eating contest. I’ll take all the kind of nuts, and you can eat them and see if you’re allergic to them. So if you’re allergic, you should say so before the nut-eating contest.
Joshua: I’m not allergic, Niall.
Niall: OK, we’ll see if you’re allergic to any of them. If you are allergic to any of them, I’ll give you a glass of water. There will be lots of water.
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Missed a week. Maybe back on track.
You have no clue how hard it was to pick a song like this today.
Down
Down
Fell by the wayside
No getting outDown
Cry me a river
Dried up and damnedThe names can be changed
But the place is still the sameI am loaded, told that all’s for naught
Holds me downRise
Life is in motion
I’m stuck in lineRise
You can’t be neutral
On a moving trainOne day the symptoms fade
Think I’ll throw these fucking pills awayAnd if hope could grow from dirt like me
It can be doneWon’t let the light escape from me!
Won’t let the darkness swallow me!
Fuck Arnold Schwarzenegger. Fuck him, fuck everything he stands for, and fuck the Hummer he rode in. But I won’t let the darkness swallow me. I’ll make it through this year if it kills me.
It may be good for my mental health to listen to something other than The Mountain Goats for a while.
“I hope that our few remaining friends give up on trying to save us. I hope we come up with a failsafe plot to piss of the dumb few that forgave us … I hope I cut myself shaving tomorrow; I hope it bleeds all day long. Our friends say it’s darkest before the sun rises. We’re pretty sure they’re all wrong … I am drowning. There is no sign of land.”
Checking my email just now, I have new messages from Amnesty International, the National Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty, three different NPR mailing lists, the Center for Inquiry, Think Atheist, Pearl Jam, and the eBacchus wine site. I am such a fucking cliché.
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In France, youth binge drinking (15 – 25 year olds) is experiencing a major rise. A proposed solution? Give university students wine tastings in lunch cafeterias to teach them how to respect and enjoy wine. “Why is there sexual education and not viticultural education? You can learn wine too.” This is being supported by a well-known gastronome and a former director of the Sorbonne.
Actually, that’s a very very French solution, yes?
This weekend I’ll be finding out if I can boot a Powerbook off a USB flash drive with a bootable FAT32 primary partition that’s an Ubuntu live CD running VirtualBox with a Windows XP disk image. The end result of that would be running Windows on a Mac, but I have no idea if that will work. I don’t even know what the hard/impossible step(s) might be. Something something x86 instruction set something something hardware abstraction layer something something I have no idea what I’m talking about something something laser beams.
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My Facebook account was attacked in a method detailed in this online story. Except, in my case, my password and email address were not changed — although they should have been.
If you hear of a Facebook friend in London without a penny, take a moment to check their story — it’s most likely a scam that’s seeped into the social network … Facebook user accounts have been hacked, opening them up to scammers who then use it to send live chat messages to their friends asking for help…
The messages claimed the person was “on a trip to London, but had been mugged, and was now marooned without passport or cash somewhere in North London”.
I was able to change my password, log off, log in again, and post a message to my peeps that the hacker was not me.
Now FB has disabled my account, presumably to make sure everything is fixed, as the story linked to above mentions. This means that, most likely, that Facebook is either monitoring IPs or IMs.
Have I mentioned how much I fucking hate Facebook?
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