The Firefly novel is called My Own Kind of Freedom. The nickname is, of course, My Own Kind of Wheadon.
-novelist Steven K. Brust on his Firefly fanfic
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Hee!
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Thursday, September 06, 2007
A note of advice to jerks
If you are going to be rude to someone, either out-right or using passive aggression, it behooves you to use the language you are using in your jerk-fit appropriately. For one thing, the victim of your jerkiness might not understand what the hell you're saying. For another, the victim might be tempted to mock the living shit out of you for your horrible mangling of English/French/Spanish/Esperanto instead of take the offense your jerk-fit is supposed to give.
'Cause being an English 'tard just turns you into an unimportant ass.
'Cause being an English 'tard just turns you into an unimportant ass.
Friday, August 31, 2007
A note on apostrophes in the possessive
Everyone knows how to create the possessive using the apostrophe, right?
If the apple belongs to John, it's John's apple. If the apples belong to the teachers, they are the teachers' apples. When the possessor is singular, the possessive is created by adding an apostrophe then an S, but if it is plural, the apostrophe is added after the pluralizing S. Simple, easy, everyone knows that. "What do you think we are, Sugar Kat?" I can hear you saying to your monitor. "Retarded? 'Cause we're not."
I know you're not "retarded," Dear Reader. However, I have a question for you. How does one create the possessive using an apostrophe when the possessor is singular but ends in an S? How does one write the apple of Mr. Thompkins using the possessive apostrophe?
National magazines and highly-respected newspapers are getting the answer to that question wrong, which is why I feel compelled to write this.
A lot of people for whom English is their primary language would claim that one creates the possessive form with a singular, S-ending possessor the same way one would with a plural, by simply putting the apostrophe after the S. When told the apple belongs to Mr. Thompkins, they write "Mr. Thompkins' apple." They are wrong.
I know this because my mother's maiden name ends in an S and, in her day, kids were actually taught grammar in grammar school. (How I wish I was taught the elements in elementary school, but no, I had to wait until high school. Man, this country's backwards when it comes to when kids should be taught what.) She passed her knowledge of the use of the possessive apostrophe on to me. Now I pass it on the the English-speaking world at large, which has been pissing me off lately with its ignorance of the English language. (Grr!)
If you have a possessor which is singular yet ends in an S, you treat it as you would any other singular possessor, by adding the apostrophe and then the S. Therefore, if the apple belongs to Mr. Thompkins, it is Mr. Thompkins's apple.
So, Entertainment Weekly, if the mirror belonged to Sirius, it would not have been Sirius' mirror, unless you were somehow actually writing about a multiple of whatever the hell Siriu might be which happened to own the same mirror. No, what you should have written, or what your apparently very lax editor should have corrected it to when you made your error, you dim-witted hack, was Sirius's mirror. Sirius is not a multiple, but one character. And your entire magazine is staffed by English-language 'tards.
Proof
As for proof of this, please take out your copy of Strunk & White, The Elements of Style. In the fourth edition, the rules on possessive singular of nouns is on page 1. If you don't have a copy at hand, go and buy one. It really should be required reading for anyone who wishes to write in English. Also, it's inexpensive, so it's not like buying some other grammar and style books, which can put you back $20 to $40. However, if you're just looking for the rule, Bartleby to the rescue: They have posted William Strunk, Jr.'s original book upon which White expounded and expanded. The page you can find the illustration of the proper use of possessive apotrophes is here. Please note the first two samples end in S (Charles, Burns) and still have the apostrophe S to form the possessive.
If the apple belongs to John, it's John's apple. If the apples belong to the teachers, they are the teachers' apples. When the possessor is singular, the possessive is created by adding an apostrophe then an S, but if it is plural, the apostrophe is added after the pluralizing S. Simple, easy, everyone knows that. "What do you think we are, Sugar Kat?" I can hear you saying to your monitor. "Retarded? 'Cause we're not."
I know you're not "retarded," Dear Reader. However, I have a question for you. How does one create the possessive using an apostrophe when the possessor is singular but ends in an S? How does one write the apple of Mr. Thompkins using the possessive apostrophe?
National magazines and highly-respected newspapers are getting the answer to that question wrong, which is why I feel compelled to write this.
A lot of people for whom English is their primary language would claim that one creates the possessive form with a singular, S-ending possessor the same way one would with a plural, by simply putting the apostrophe after the S. When told the apple belongs to Mr. Thompkins, they write "Mr. Thompkins' apple." They are wrong.
I know this because my mother's maiden name ends in an S and, in her day, kids were actually taught grammar in grammar school. (How I wish I was taught the elements in elementary school, but no, I had to wait until high school. Man, this country's backwards when it comes to when kids should be taught what.) She passed her knowledge of the use of the possessive apostrophe on to me. Now I pass it on the the English-speaking world at large, which has been pissing me off lately with its ignorance of the English language. (Grr!)
If you have a possessor which is singular yet ends in an S, you treat it as you would any other singular possessor, by adding the apostrophe and then the S. Therefore, if the apple belongs to Mr. Thompkins, it is Mr. Thompkins's apple.
So, Entertainment Weekly, if the mirror belonged to Sirius, it would not have been Sirius' mirror, unless you were somehow actually writing about a multiple of whatever the hell Siriu might be which happened to own the same mirror. No, what you should have written, or what your apparently very lax editor should have corrected it to when you made your error, you dim-witted hack, was Sirius's mirror. Sirius is not a multiple, but one character. And your entire magazine is staffed by English-language 'tards.
Proof
As for proof of this, please take out your copy of Strunk & White, The Elements of Style. In the fourth edition, the rules on possessive singular of nouns is on page 1. If you don't have a copy at hand, go and buy one. It really should be required reading for anyone who wishes to write in English. Also, it's inexpensive, so it's not like buying some other grammar and style books, which can put you back $20 to $40. However, if you're just looking for the rule, Bartleby to the rescue: They have posted William Strunk, Jr.'s original book upon which White expounded and expanded. The page you can find the illustration of the proper use of possessive apotrophes is here. Please note the first two samples end in S (Charles, Burns) and still have the apostrophe S to form the possessive.
Friday, August 17, 2007
So long, John
Like I mentioned in a previous post, it seems like my mom and I are the only two people in America who liked HBO's new David Milch series, John from Cincinnati, which just wrapped up its first ten-episode season this past Sunday. In fact, not only did we like it, but as the series went along, introducing bizarre, deeply imperfect yet increasingly endearing characters (more often than not played by former residents of the much-lamented Deadwood; we got to be rather eager for new characters in hopes that another former Deadwoodian would show), who spoke mono- and dialogues in an elevated and profanity-laced speech pattern reminiscent of the mesmerizing cadences of that Old West town (as if the residents of and visitors to IB were the decendents of the whores and criminals of Milch's other HBO creation), and presenting ideas which were neither clear nor explained and about which we theorized and expounded like graduate students in a course on Albee plays, we really got to loving it. Also, best opening credits song, period, since The Sopranos first aired in January, 1999. John from Cincinnati is strange and weird and nonlinear, which are all things which throw off most boob tube viewers, who would rather watch unchallenging televised mental diarrhea like Big Brother 8 (why, Lord, why? ::eyes bleed::), but which my mom and I eat up like chocolate-covered hand-made ice cream.
Now I find out Mom and I may very well have been the only people who liked the show who weren't actually involved in shooting it, as HBO has cancelled the series, not renewing for a second season of an hour-long show for the first time in its original programming history.
For fuck's sake, HBO, you gave that piece of shit Arli$$ seemingly innumerable and unending seasons. Why stop John when it's hitting its weird-ass stride?
Why? Because they are jerks and television critics are jerks and America is just too fucking stupid. I hate you, World.
We'll miss you, John.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
...
When I saw this on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, I actually became physically ill. Bile, headache, etc. I have difficulty finding words to describe my speechless, drop-jawed...horror? Anger? Dismay? Frustration? Horangedistration? Gobsmacked would be a good word, except that I don't think it's negative enough.
All right, here's a story of pure fiction that might illustrate my indescribable feelings at the moment I watched this. Imagine you're at the display of the Constitution and Declaration of Independence looking at the two foundation documents of our nation with other American tourists, foreign tourists, and wounded American veterans visiting from the VA hospital. VP Cheney strides in, has Secret Service smash open both cases, then takes out both documents, tears them to hand-sized pieces, wipes his poop-covered arse with the pieces, shoves these poo-papers in the mouths of the wounded vets, knocks the vets out of their wheelchairs and off of their crutches to the floor, then has Secret Service kick the vets in the face. Not that Cheney'd actually, physically do that. I can't imagine anyone would actually be that horrible. But if he did and I were standing there, watching it, unable to stop any of it from happening, that feeling I'd have during the whole thing might kind of equal how I felt when I watched this. Except in the hypothetical and completely fictional case, I might actually vomit instead of just feeling like I might, sob with despair, go home, write a suicide note, then jump off a bridge.
Protest? Try to stop it? Why? No one listens. No one cares. Especially not the executive branch. They're like the phone company in the old SNL sketches in the 1970s: "We don't care; we don't have to: We're the executive branch."
No one cares. Except for a frustrated, angry, and deeply saddened Jon Stewart. But all he can do is make a funny TV show while New Rome burns.
Woe is we.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
I ♥ America
yet another regionalist rant by ltsk
BBC | Americas | Washington diary: Land of ideas
Remembering the fires and riots in the suburbs of Paris (and other European cities) nearly two years ago and thinking about the anger French President Sarkozy raises in some in France, I've been thinking about what's wrong with France (as a break from fretting over my motherland). It occured to me that the French need to change what it is to be French, as to the Germans what it is to be German, etc., etc. Frenchness can't just be an inbred set of genetic codes. Otherwise, there will always be people rioting in the streets.
"The poor will always be with you," so there's no need to add to the ranks of the disenfranchised be marking an entire portion of the country not of that country simply by virtue of their not having the "correct" genetic makeup. It's stupid and, honestly, just a continuation of the failed policy of colonization. Yes, yes, America is the Great Imperialist, even according to many here at home, but, honestly, we can't hold a candle to the awfulness of, say, Britian's colonial rule of the China, or what France did in Algeria. America is the child of Europe. We learned well, as you can see in some of our behavior in Iraq. But we, at least, are willing to say that someone from Iraq who becomes an American citizen is American, as are his children. Can't say the same of the French and Algerian immigrants.
The quote above, by a BBC reporter, a Brit, mind, and not some flag-waving FOX News toadie, is exactly what makes the US a country which, while deeply, deeply troubled, I believe will survive and flourish in the long run: This is a nation built upon ideas. Not on "whiteness" (in spite of what Lou Dobbs may think), not the Bible (in spite of what the Christian Right might think), but ideas: Ideas of human rights and equality, freedom and responsibility, potential and work.
The trouble is, the folks in charge right now--in the government, in business, the social leaders, too--don't understand that. Hopefully, we can change this. As Bill Clinton once said, and as Mr. Frei quotes in the linked article, "There is nothing wrong with America that cannot be cured by what is right with America," so long as we remember what the US is really about and remember to fight for our ideas. Our ideals. Our great potential. Honestly, this is what makes us the greatest country in the world: We have potential that no other country has, because they are limited by their self-definitions, while we are a country based of the best ideals of humanity. Anyone who truly swears by these ideals, who carries them in their heart and mind, who is willing to die for them and, better yet, live by them, can call themselves American.
This is why I consider the Bush Government, the Christian Right, the Neocon movement, and many on the extreme right and left to be unAmerican: They do not live to or hold by the ideas which make the US the US, the ideas without which there would be no America. Their selfishness, their inability to see beyond their own agendas, their need to be right no matter what, cause them to act, at least, like they hate America. As a red-blooded American, I often find myself hating them for it.
I was going to forward this rant to my sister who lives in France, thinking she might be able to use this argument, or at least portions of it, the next time an in-law who's never been here mentions What Is Wrong With America. I decided against it, however, as I don't know if she can handle the thought of her little sister, at heart, being so pro-America.
Not pro current American foreign policy or even pro most of the national policies, but definitely, when you cut to the quick, to the core of what America is, yes, I'm a patriot. "American patriot," unfortunately, has been linked by both supporters of the current administration and some of their detractors with being pro-Bush. Why is it I can't be a patriotic American without being a supporter of policies which go directly against the ideas upon which America was founded? Must it not be the opposite? Must not those who would support leaders, national and local, whose policies are directly opposed to the ideas upon which our country was created and by which it is held together, be the unpatriotic ones?
I adore France, but it's deeply flawed. America is flawed, but I love it. Glass houses, anti-America Europeans. And, while America can learn a lot from the French medical system and the French abilities to talk about sex without having a hernia and drink alcohol in reasonable amounts and without the need to get piss-drunk, the French could learn from America about accepting those not like yourself and calling them fellow countrymen. Even and especially those with heavy accents.
Liberté, égalité, fraternité. Remember those France? You have national ideals, too. Do they only apply to the genetically French? Yes, America still has problems accepting whoever has been deemed the Other, but don't pretend you don't have problems like, and possibly worse than, ours.
The US is a nation built not on ethnicity, not on religion, not even on history but on an idea.
Remembering the fires and riots in the suburbs of Paris (and other European cities) nearly two years ago and thinking about the anger French President Sarkozy raises in some in France, I've been thinking about what's wrong with France (as a break from fretting over my motherland). It occured to me that the French need to change what it is to be French, as to the Germans what it is to be German, etc., etc. Frenchness can't just be an inbred set of genetic codes. Otherwise, there will always be people rioting in the streets.
"The poor will always be with you," so there's no need to add to the ranks of the disenfranchised be marking an entire portion of the country not of that country simply by virtue of their not having the "correct" genetic makeup. It's stupid and, honestly, just a continuation of the failed policy of colonization. Yes, yes, America is the Great Imperialist, even according to many here at home, but, honestly, we can't hold a candle to the awfulness of, say, Britian's colonial rule of the China, or what France did in Algeria. America is the child of Europe. We learned well, as you can see in some of our behavior in Iraq. But we, at least, are willing to say that someone from Iraq who becomes an American citizen is American, as are his children. Can't say the same of the French and Algerian immigrants.
The quote above, by a BBC reporter, a Brit, mind, and not some flag-waving FOX News toadie, is exactly what makes the US a country which, while deeply, deeply troubled, I believe will survive and flourish in the long run: This is a nation built upon ideas. Not on "whiteness" (in spite of what Lou Dobbs may think), not the Bible (in spite of what the Christian Right might think), but ideas: Ideas of human rights and equality, freedom and responsibility, potential and work.
The trouble is, the folks in charge right now--in the government, in business, the social leaders, too--don't understand that. Hopefully, we can change this. As Bill Clinton once said, and as Mr. Frei quotes in the linked article, "There is nothing wrong with America that cannot be cured by what is right with America," so long as we remember what the US is really about and remember to fight for our ideas. Our ideals. Our great potential. Honestly, this is what makes us the greatest country in the world: We have potential that no other country has, because they are limited by their self-definitions, while we are a country based of the best ideals of humanity. Anyone who truly swears by these ideals, who carries them in their heart and mind, who is willing to die for them and, better yet, live by them, can call themselves American.
This is why I consider the Bush Government, the Christian Right, the Neocon movement, and many on the extreme right and left to be unAmerican: They do not live to or hold by the ideas which make the US the US, the ideas without which there would be no America. Their selfishness, their inability to see beyond their own agendas, their need to be right no matter what, cause them to act, at least, like they hate America. As a red-blooded American, I often find myself hating them for it.
I was going to forward this rant to my sister who lives in France, thinking she might be able to use this argument, or at least portions of it, the next time an in-law who's never been here mentions What Is Wrong With America. I decided against it, however, as I don't know if she can handle the thought of her little sister, at heart, being so pro-America.
Not pro current American foreign policy or even pro most of the national policies, but definitely, when you cut to the quick, to the core of what America is, yes, I'm a patriot. "American patriot," unfortunately, has been linked by both supporters of the current administration and some of their detractors with being pro-Bush. Why is it I can't be a patriotic American without being a supporter of policies which go directly against the ideas upon which America was founded? Must it not be the opposite? Must not those who would support leaders, national and local, whose policies are directly opposed to the ideas upon which our country was created and by which it is held together, be the unpatriotic ones?
I adore France, but it's deeply flawed. America is flawed, but I love it. Glass houses, anti-America Europeans. And, while America can learn a lot from the French medical system and the French abilities to talk about sex without having a hernia and drink alcohol in reasonable amounts and without the need to get piss-drunk, the French could learn from America about accepting those not like yourself and calling them fellow countrymen. Even and especially those with heavy accents.
Liberté, égalité, fraternité. Remember those France? You have national ideals, too. Do they only apply to the genetically French? Yes, America still has problems accepting whoever has been deemed the Other, but don't pretend you don't have problems like, and possibly worse than, ours.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Rising from the e-dead
Once upon a time, I spent lots of time on the interweb. Then I was temporarily employed. Then I was not. Then I was again. Now I post only to say, um, things have happened. A lot more has not. There's a reason I don't take time to post. Well, that, and the lack of readership. Dear Reader, you don't exist!
I am still temporarily employed. If you don't know where, guess. I'll reward points for accuracy and/or creativity. There may even be a prize!
I have been at this place since October 13, 2006. This is a long freakin time to be a temp, guldurnit. At least they're buying me pizza today. And there's a pretty good Indian/Pakistani restaurant next door. And there's a Starbucks a couple of blocks up the hill. Not that I can afford to buy food or coffee when I'm paid a couple dollars over minimum/hour. Arg.
Mom is no longer married to Dad. A lot of crap happened to lead to this dis-marital state. There is a lot of shit still flowing down the pipe, though. Bad, bad shit. I don't want to go into it further, as I don't have time to rant about my asshole father, mysogynists, women who enable them, lawyers, and the clusterfuck of it's-not-what-you-know-but-who-you-know-ness that is the Capital Region.
I should be getting back to work. Work which is leading me to knowing a hell of a lot more about patent prosecution and intellectual property protection that I will ever, ever need anywhere but here. Damn it. Work which also entails cleaning up the fuck-ups of the past fifteen or so years. It's weird to look at agreements and patent applications and think, I was in sixth grade that year, and then realize how fucking old that makes the patent/agreement. This makes me sad. Which is why I watch cartoons.
In other, fluffier news...
I think my mom and I may be the only two people in America who like HBO's new series, John from Cincinnati. I am mostly convinced that every critic from EW is smoking crack: they hate JfC but love, love, lurve American Idol, which I almost spelled American Idiot, which is how one would describe someone who actually likes the celebration of mediocrity that is AI. No one, naturally, cares about my opinion re television programming, except for my mother, who agrees with me.
Watching Flight of the Conchords makes me happy like eating ice cream shop ice cream from an in-shop-made waffle cone makes me happy. Huzzah for kiwis!
Where the hell did Creature Comforts go? Three weeks and it's gone? WTF, CBS?
Have yet to see Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End. I'm the last person on earth who wanted to see the movie but hasn't who isn't living in a war zone or slum of some sort.
Go see Ratatouille. It is hilarious and breath-takingly animated and very well done. It also made me leave the theater, not just hungry for good French food, but wanting to cook. Yay, Brad Bird!
I am still temporarily employed. If you don't know where, guess. I'll reward points for accuracy and/or creativity. There may even be a prize!
I have been at this place since October 13, 2006. This is a long freakin time to be a temp, guldurnit. At least they're buying me pizza today. And there's a pretty good Indian/Pakistani restaurant next door. And there's a Starbucks a couple of blocks up the hill. Not that I can afford to buy food or coffee when I'm paid a couple dollars over minimum/hour. Arg.
Mom is no longer married to Dad. A lot of crap happened to lead to this dis-marital state. There is a lot of shit still flowing down the pipe, though. Bad, bad shit. I don't want to go into it further, as I don't have time to rant about my asshole father, mysogynists, women who enable them, lawyers, and the clusterfuck of it's-not-what-you-know-but-who-you-know-ness that is the Capital Region.
I should be getting back to work. Work which is leading me to knowing a hell of a lot more about patent prosecution and intellectual property protection that I will ever, ever need anywhere but here. Damn it. Work which also entails cleaning up the fuck-ups of the past fifteen or so years. It's weird to look at agreements and patent applications and think, I was in sixth grade that year, and then realize how fucking old that makes the patent/agreement. This makes me sad. Which is why I watch cartoons.
In other, fluffier news...
I think my mom and I may be the only two people in America who like HBO's new series, John from Cincinnati. I am mostly convinced that every critic from EW is smoking crack: they hate JfC but love, love, lurve American Idol, which I almost spelled American Idiot, which is how one would describe someone who actually likes the celebration of mediocrity that is AI. No one, naturally, cares about my opinion re television programming, except for my mother, who agrees with me.
Watching Flight of the Conchords makes me happy like eating ice cream shop ice cream from an in-shop-made waffle cone makes me happy. Huzzah for kiwis!
Where the hell did Creature Comforts go? Three weeks and it's gone? WTF, CBS?
Have yet to see Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End. I'm the last person on earth who wanted to see the movie but hasn't who isn't living in a war zone or slum of some sort.
Go see Ratatouille. It is hilarious and breath-takingly animated and very well done. It also made me leave the theater, not just hungry for good French food, but wanting to cook. Yay, Brad Bird!
Monday, May 07, 2007
ZOMG! I ♥ the interweb!
Probably everyone and their Great Aunt Sue has seen this site already, but I had to put a link here as Book of Numbers is awesome weirdness. It's like the internet grandchild of the animated sequences Terry Gilliam did for Monty Python. ♥!
Saturday, May 05, 2007
No one is reading this blog anymore
If this is not true, post something in the comments. If it is, well, I don't see me not posting anything. Well, I will continue to maintain my occasional posting of nothing much which no one reads.
That still makes no sense.
Have I mentioned my cat, Lucy, knowns how to open doors? Lucy can open doors.
I am finally reading Death Note and now understand why people like L, though not to the point of licking fanart. That is just fucking weird, man.
That still makes no sense.
Have I mentioned my cat, Lucy, knowns how to open doors? Lucy can open doors.
I am finally reading Death Note and now understand why people like L, though not to the point of licking fanart. That is just fucking weird, man.
Monday, April 23, 2007
A thought on lapsed relationships
I've a feeling the only reason this blog has not been removed from a particular list is that person can't be bothered to mess with their template.
At some point, this person will decide they are bored with their template and remove the link and then, well.
It's sad, but it's also weird, as I'm not sure. And I really can't bring myself to ask. I should just ask, honestly. I guess I don't because I just don't need that, too, to add to the total list of things which make me very sad right now.
I could be just jumping to conclusions, but I've had a sneaking suspicion for a long time now. I'm such a coward with this stuff.
Also, when I do this sort of thing to other people, I tend to, you know, write letters that are held on to for years due to the bitterness they inspire. Or whatever. I don't know why he held on to that letter so long. God, I hope he doesn't still have it. That would be pathetic beyond words, and give me way too much significance in his life. I am anything but significant.
Still, it's depressing, as I rather admire this person. But, I'm not admirable, so I don't see reciprocation. And, I'm annoying. So there's that.
C'est la vie, ne?
At some point, this person will decide they are bored with their template and remove the link and then, well.
It's sad, but it's also weird, as I'm not sure. And I really can't bring myself to ask. I should just ask, honestly. I guess I don't because I just don't need that, too, to add to the total list of things which make me very sad right now.
I could be just jumping to conclusions, but I've had a sneaking suspicion for a long time now. I'm such a coward with this stuff.
Also, when I do this sort of thing to other people, I tend to, you know, write letters that are held on to for years due to the bitterness they inspire. Or whatever. I don't know why he held on to that letter so long. God, I hope he doesn't still have it. That would be pathetic beyond words, and give me way too much significance in his life. I am anything but significant.
Still, it's depressing, as I rather admire this person. But, I'm not admirable, so I don't see reciprocation. And, I'm annoying. So there's that.
C'est la vie, ne?
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
S.O.U.S.es
I have weird facinations. One is with WWII movies. I don't know why, as I'm not all, "Woo! Greatest war ever!" as I'm not particularly fond of war. Not to say we should have capitulated to the facist forces (for longer than we did, at any rate, which was for a really fricking long time, considering), but war bugs me. Still, WWII movies are the bee's knees. Even crappy ones.
Then I took a course on WWII through Japanese literature, pre-Pearl Harbor, during WWII, and during the occupation. I've read pieces that most Japanese don't even know were ever written. (The Japanese denial of much of what happened just before and during WWII is the subject of a long, exhausting essay for which I haven't the mental energy right now.)
So, when NOVA has a program about the famed Battleship Yamato, it's like ...well, not mental chocolate, but definitely crystal-methish.
Naturally, when you're dealing with the Pacific front, with the Japanese navy's successes shortly after Pearl Harbor, with the American aircraft carriers, with the freakin' Yamato, largest battleship ever created, you're going to get tons of superlatives. Still, "ships of unusual size" tickled me in a movie/book-geek-slash-WWII-geek mash-up.
Side Note
An interesting story which I vaguely remember getting some coverage nationally, about the grandson of an American WWII Navy vet returning the personal effects of a kamikaze pilot to his family. The last sentence, included in an article written a little over five months before the attacks on the Twin Towers and the Pentagon, is somewhat bittersweet a read.
Also of note is that the kamikaze volunteers were nearly all university students, "though science students were deemed too valuable to sacrifice."
Then I took a course on WWII through Japanese literature, pre-Pearl Harbor, during WWII, and during the occupation. I've read pieces that most Japanese don't even know were ever written. (The Japanese denial of much of what happened just before and during WWII is the subject of a long, exhausting essay for which I haven't the mental energy right now.)
So, when NOVA has a program about the famed Battleship Yamato, it's like ...well, not mental chocolate, but definitely crystal-methish.
Naturally, when you're dealing with the Pacific front, with the Japanese navy's successes shortly after Pearl Harbor, with the American aircraft carriers, with the freakin' Yamato, largest battleship ever created, you're going to get tons of superlatives. Still, "ships of unusual size" tickled me in a movie/book-geek-slash-WWII-geek mash-up.
Side Note
An interesting story which I vaguely remember getting some coverage nationally, about the grandson of an American WWII Navy vet returning the personal effects of a kamikaze pilot to his family. The last sentence, included in an article written a little over five months before the attacks on the Twin Towers and the Pentagon, is somewhat bittersweet a read.
Also of note is that the kamikaze volunteers were nearly all university students, "though science students were deemed too valuable to sacrifice."
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Saturday, March 31, 2007
If I can't have a flying car, I want a supertrain, damn it
From The Pinstriped Bible:
The poor quality of our rail and commuter systems in this country drive me absolutely bonkers. There's no reason why the greatest country in the world (yes, as an American, I am biased, but still) should not have kick-ass train systems equivalent to those in Japan, Germany and France. France! France beats us out! That's just wrong, America!
If I ever hit the jackpot in some way or form, after paying off my debts and the rest of Mom's mortgage, I will start a campaign to get a decent commuter rail system set up here in the Capital Region. There is no reason on God's little green Earth that the commute from Saratoga to Albany should take over an hour. That's just retarded. (No, not mentally or physically disabled, retarded. There's a difference.) Once I succeed there, I will move on to doing something about our interstate rail system. ...and then pigs will fly out from my tuchus and soar through the sky. ::sigh::
::crickets::
AAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUGH!!!
::head goes 'splodey::
Parenthetically, it's amazing that we live in the greatest country in the world, but our high-speed trains between New York and Boston putter along like a toddler's wind-up toy. Why is it that France, Germany, and Japan get the cool transportation toys? Okay, part of the answer is because we spend all our money protecting those countries and freeing them up to buy choo-choos. Still, it's frustrating.
The poor quality of our rail and commuter systems in this country drive me absolutely bonkers. There's no reason why the greatest country in the world (yes, as an American, I am biased, but still) should not have kick-ass train systems equivalent to those in Japan, Germany and France. France! France beats us out! That's just wrong, America!
If I ever hit the jackpot in some way or form, after paying off my debts and the rest of Mom's mortgage, I will start a campaign to get a decent commuter rail system set up here in the Capital Region. There is no reason on God's little green Earth that the commute from Saratoga to Albany should take over an hour. That's just retarded. (No, not mentally or physically disabled, retarded. There's a difference.) Once I succeed there, I will move on to doing something about our interstate rail system. ...and then pigs will fly out from my tuchus and soar through the sky. ::sigh::
Update: April 3, 2007, 13:37 GMT
From BBC News | Europe | French set new rail speed record:A French high-speed train (TGV) has smashed the world record for a train on conventional rails by a big margin, reaching 574.8km/h (356mph).
...
The absolute train speed record was set by a Japanese magnetic levitation train - Maglev - in 2003. It reached a top speed of 581km/h (361mph).
...
After the record was broken, President Jacques Chirac conveyed his congratulations on "this new proof of the excellence of the French rail industry."
::crickets::
AAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUGH!!!
::head goes 'splodey::
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Awesome!
Ancient, giant things are, by their very nature, awesome. #54398 in the series of Things I've Learned About By Watching Nova: Glacial Lake Missoula and the Ice Age Floods.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
A note on grammar
I've been thinking for years now that I ought to start up a blog where my mom gives daily or weekly grammatical tips for English writers. Honestly, interweb. Your English blows. Even the better-written posts have sucktacular English. Mom's busy with her divorce, and I'm busy with my crappy-ass temp job, so, instead of the new blog, I bring you the
ENGLISH LANGUAGE GRAMMATICAL TIP OF THE DAY:
There is a difference between "fewer" and "less." Here's the way you can remember it. Say some lucky schmuck is walking down the beach, ducks down and scoops up a handful of sand. Not paying attention, the schmuck opens his and a little, allowing some of the sand to slip between his fingers. You can now either say that lucky schmuck has LESS sand in his hand or FEWER grains of sand.
"Less" applies to overall amount, or a mass which cannot be divided so that you can count it (sand, water, control...). "Fewer" applies to things you would count individually (grains of sand, raisins, controls...). If you pour water out of a glass, you have less water in the glass, as you can't count a mass such as water individually. (Granted, if you're an asshole, you could say you have fewer drops of water, but then, again, that'd make you an asshole.) If you poured peanuts out of a bowl, you would have fewer peanuts in that bowl, as you could, technically, count the number of peanuts which you poured out.
Less is for mass, fewer is for items. Capice?
ENGLISH LANGUAGE GRAMMATICAL TIP OF THE DAY:
There is a difference between "fewer" and "less." Here's the way you can remember it. Say some lucky schmuck is walking down the beach, ducks down and scoops up a handful of sand. Not paying attention, the schmuck opens his and a little, allowing some of the sand to slip between his fingers. You can now either say that lucky schmuck has LESS sand in his hand or FEWER grains of sand.
"Less" applies to overall amount, or a mass which cannot be divided so that you can count it (sand, water, control...). "Fewer" applies to things you would count individually (grains of sand, raisins, controls...). If you pour water out of a glass, you have less water in the glass, as you can't count a mass such as water individually. (Granted, if you're an asshole, you could say you have fewer drops of water, but then, again, that'd make you an asshole.) If you poured peanuts out of a bowl, you would have fewer peanuts in that bowl, as you could, technically, count the number of peanuts which you poured out.
Less is for mass, fewer is for items. Capice?
Saturday, December 09, 2006
... WTUF?
Holy crap. Further proof of the end of civilization. For some reason, the part which stuck out like a purple-clad dancing cat was the following:
Like my deeply troubled mother said when I told her about a mother who possibly nuked her own baby girl (for God's sake, WTUH?!), not too many bodies fit into a standard microwave oven, so it wouold be difficult to gather data on that sort of thing.
One, if she did it, it's simply yet more fuel for a sneaking suspicion I have that we need to start up some sort of law which requires that people get thoroughly vetted before they're permitted to breed. Completely fucking wrong, I know, but, for Christ's sake! Nuked babies! Come on!
Two, if she didn't do it, if it was the babysitter or someone, that poor, poor woman, going through this hell and being accused of committing such a completely fucked up and evil act.
I'm too tired to deal with this. I'm going to go watch this week's Scrubs on the DVR again.
Speaking at news conference last week, a Montgomery County coroner's office spokesman said the investigation had been complicated by the lack of research on the effect of microwaves on human beings.
Like my deeply troubled mother said when I told her about a mother who possibly nuked her own baby girl (for God's sake, WTUH?!), not too many bodies fit into a standard microwave oven, so it wouold be difficult to gather data on that sort of thing.
One, if she did it, it's simply yet more fuel for a sneaking suspicion I have that we need to start up some sort of law which requires that people get thoroughly vetted before they're permitted to breed. Completely fucking wrong, I know, but, for Christ's sake! Nuked babies! Come on!
Two, if she didn't do it, if it was the babysitter or someone, that poor, poor woman, going through this hell and being accused of committing such a completely fucked up and evil act.
I'm too tired to deal with this. I'm going to go watch this week's Scrubs on the DVR again.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Wow. That looks positively shitacular.
I'm a dork. I saw the trailers for The Lord of the Rings movies and I squeed. I was even excited to see a dragon fly back when the exceedingly disappointing Dragonheart came out.
Eragon is a derivative piece of shit. I shudder at the thought of kids reading it and thinking that's what good writing is. And, judging by the trailer over at Moviefone, it looks like the film based upon it is just as crappy: see for yourself.
Bad costuming, bad magical animal design, cruddy effects, misuse of good actors, shitty actors in central roles. Yup, all the marks of a decidedly mediocre fantasy flick. It's like Peter Jackson never happened. Then again, reading Eragon, it's like high school English never happened. Oh, wait. He was home-schooled, wasn't he? Guess it didn't happen.
Eragon is a derivative piece of shit. I shudder at the thought of kids reading it and thinking that's what good writing is. And, judging by the trailer over at Moviefone, it looks like the film based upon it is just as crappy: see for yourself.
Bad costuming, bad magical animal design, cruddy effects, misuse of good actors, shitty actors in central roles. Yup, all the marks of a decidedly mediocre fantasy flick. It's like Peter Jackson never happened. Then again, reading Eragon, it's like high school English never happened. Oh, wait. He was home-schooled, wasn't he? Guess it didn't happen.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Go work in comics!
I know way too many English majors who grew up reading X-Men et al not to post this here.
Go work for Marvel! They're looking for an Associate Editor at Marvel Entertainment in NYC. Job details behind the link. I can't imagine I don't have at least one geeky and über-intelligent friend (and this describes pretty much all of you) who could manage to fit the bill. Okay, yeah, comics ain't what they used to be, but comics! Squee! You'd be working for Marvel Comics! Home of Spiderman and Wolverine and Nightcrawler! Dude! Nightcrawler! Go apply! I know you could do this job.
I'm not applying 'cause I'm not qualified. I've work experience, but not appropriate work experience. I have this growing, creeping, chilling fear I'm going to be an admin for the rest of my days. My life is going to continue to be teh suck of suck for the forseeable future. How the hell do people start proper careers without internships?
They can't, can they? ... Crap.
Go work for Marvel! They're looking for an Associate Editor at Marvel Entertainment in NYC. Job details behind the link. I can't imagine I don't have at least one geeky and über-intelligent friend (and this describes pretty much all of you) who could manage to fit the bill. Okay, yeah, comics ain't what they used to be, but comics! Squee! You'd be working for Marvel Comics! Home of Spiderman and Wolverine and Nightcrawler! Dude! Nightcrawler! Go apply! I know you could do this job.
I'm not applying 'cause I'm not qualified. I've work experience, but not appropriate work experience. I have this growing, creeping, chilling fear I'm going to be an admin for the rest of my days. My life is going to continue to be teh suck of suck for the forseeable future. How the hell do people start proper careers without internships?
They can't, can they? ... Crap.
