I had not had a genuine giggle spree in some time. Happily, I cannot make that claim again for a few days.
Matthew in Beirut: Backstroke of the West
Update: CG says this is OFN. Ach, weel.
Second Update: the link appears to have died, so I’ve republished it here. If anyone out there has objections or attribution, just email me at buddha [at] steelbuddha [dot] net.
I updated the site for the fencing program that I direct at my high school alma mater. It still may be a little buggy, as it’s my first completed PHP/MySQL project that I coded from scratch. Also, a script resizes your window, which I normally would never do.
Still, feedback much appreciated, particularly in the browser discrepancy area.
Found at the infamously informed Headless Hollow, this robot movie at once titillates and terrifies me. Not surprisingly, the word Daneel appears in the URL.
Project Management: a profession centered around appeasing clients through overpromising, then sitting back and occasionally asking the team the vague question, “How are we doing?” through various communication channels.
I swear I’d get in on that if I didn’t have to wear a tie and be in on time. The punctual fashion-conscious ones among us are compensated out of proportion to those whose shoulders bear the brunt of the yoke, with their heads on the block and their noses to the grindstone.
I have never been one for knowing the numbers on weather. I don’t care what the temperature or heat index are, I only need to know that I am hot and need water. But I have found a need for a thermometer finally. I’m going to put it in my alien-looking cubicle and force people to look at it. Particularly people who have the nerve to say it is cold in our office and proceed to turn off/down the climate control.
I am going to shove their heads under my sweating pits as I drag them in headlock into my office space and show them the temperature. Yes, I’m a big hairy guy and I like it cold, but I don’t subject other people to my extremes. I would wager it is approaching eighty degrees in my chair right now, and while that might be a pleasant working temperature for a roofer in the Philippines, that kind of warmth is simply no fun for coding.
Perhaps this has been obvious to everyone except me for the longest time, but after reading a list over at McSweeney’s I had a revelation. Although I’ve never much cared for the original Star Trek series — or any Trek for that matter — I was always aware of its barely clothed subtext regarding racial harmony and peace among the people of Earth.
Something that never clicked in my mind though was the purpose of the Klingons. Now, suddenly, I get it. The Klingons are animalistic and brutal-seeming in their glorification of battle, to the exclusion of most other personality traits. Duh, Chris. They are the id, the bestial nature of humanity’s war-like tendencies personified in a race against whom we constantly struggle. We must fight against our own ferocious natures to progress “where no man has gone before.”
And all this time I thought they were humanoid to save on costuming. I don’t watch enough of any Trek show to see similar man-vs.-himself struggles in the canon, though I do see a sort of opposite struggle going on in the Vulcan attitude toward logic.
I won’t mentally disagree next time I hear someone say that Gene Roddenberry was a genius.
Well, similar at least. This put a huge smile on my face. It should do for you, as well.
They’re Taking The Hobbits To Isengard [flash]
Also: Jeffrey Ross roasts Pamela Anderson. [.mp4, NSFW, completely worth the download time]
Also Also: Anyone can build a whiz-bang Chicken Scalder. [thanks to JC at work]
I’ve been known to correct people’s grammar and spelling, particularly in typing. I correct my own when necessary (and sometimes when not) and blush at my mistakes. In the event that someone takes offense at my speaking up and argues that it is irrelevant because I (eventually) understood them, I get quite flustered.
You see, good communication to me is not irrelevant. Not ever. If language was misused in a conversation, but I immediately understood the intent, then the foul is on me when I chide the mistake. With the advent of email, IM, IRC, and in-game channels, however, it is all the more imperative that proper grammar, spelling, and usage prevail. Without inflection and the further context of facial expression, miscommunication is bound to occur. Thus, special care should be taken to express oneself without ambiguity.
Yet, the internet — to use a comprehensive, if generalized, term — is riddled with inaccurate statements and arguments made all the weaker by the issuer’s poor command of the language. Examples are everywhere, yet difficult to cite. It goes beyond the simple misplacement of punctuation or the dangling participle. It has evolved into a language of its own, perhaps for the worse. Try to explain to an anonymous soul on a forum the “cry-wolf” implications of an acronym like LOL and see how long it is before the argument degenerates into nothing resembling civil discourse.
Granted, there are times in friendly internet communication that I intentionally put on the airs of an English major; but, even when I politely point out the correction and a concise reasoning for its significance I am often met with resistance to the point of hostility.
I have chosen as my cause the reclamation of accurate communication. To me, it is no less worthy a cause than any political, personal or philosophical ideal. After all, could any one of us claim that they have never had a minor issue turn into a dilemma simply due to poor communication? I could not.
An independent film-maker responds to those heartfelt ads about movie piracy. And I rejoice.
After reading this new theory, I had to spread the word. It’s important that people everywhere learn about the Flying Spaghetti Monster. I want to believe.
